Million Pound Appointments Read online

  "I'll run it past you again shall I?" He says to the terrified landlord.

  "We keep the keys we keep the money you keep your little fingers."

  Ken offers the landlord his hand. Nervous and terrified the landlord shakes it.

  "That's good." Says Ken. "Now get us some drinks."

  The landlord doesn't really have a choice, he's rather attached to his little pinkies, so although it did enter his mind to run as fast as he could out of the pub, he eyes up Craig and works out that the best he could do, even with a strong wind on his back, was make the curb. So he gets the drinks instead.

  "Effective, I'll give you that." Says a dumbstruck Marcus.

  "So this A-lister you're sending me, got all her limbs has she?"

  "There's no need for sarcasm Kenneth, but for the record, yes she has."

  "Oh good, that'll make a nice change then. So, who is she?"

  The landlord comes over with three pints of beer on a tray and he puts it down on the table. Ken stops talking and looks at the pints and then looks at the landlord who's thinking about the curb again.

  "Do I look like the type of man that drinks out of pint glasses to you?"

  "Oh I'm sorry. Would you prefer wine?"

  "No I wouldn't. I'd prefer Champagne."

  "Oh, right, yeah, no worries. Champagne it is then."

  The landlord goes to pick the tray up, but Ken grabs his wrist.

  "Why are there three pints?"

  "Oh. One was for me. I didn't know if you wanted to say anything else to me regarding the fruit machines."

  "Do you need telling again then?"

  "No."

  "Good. Drink them."

  "How do you mean?" Asks the landlord.

  "As you seem to like beer so much, and think it's the right drink to toast a successful deal with, you drink the fucking things."

  The landlord gives a little laugh; even though deep down in his boots; which he's about to fill, he knows he's going to have to drink three pints of beer.

  "Ken, let him go." Marcus says smiling at the man.

  Ken gives the landlord an extra hard squeeze with his hand.

  "I said drink."

  Nine and a half minutes later the landlord finishes the third pint of beer.

  "Now you can take them away." Says Ken.

  The landlord doesn't need telling twice, and he certainly won't ever be making that mistake again. From now on he'll have a bottle of champagne behind the bar ready for when they come to take away the money. Craig is playing one of the slot machines, and once again the curb pops up in the landlords mind, but that's probably because he's somewhat tipsy. He settles for fetching a bottle of Champagne from the cellar instead.

  "Are you going to sit there all day, or are you going to tell me who she is?" Asks Ken.

  Marcus smiles.

  "We agreed on five hundred pounds for each celebrity that I send you, correct?"

  Ken's no fool; he knows when a noose is being put around his neck.

  "What the fuck are you doing?"

  "Renegotiating."

  "You're what?"

  "Renegotiating terms dear boy."

  "Fuck off are you. Five hundred quid a celeb."

  "Ah, but that's the point, there are celebrities, and then there are celebrities."

  "Five hundred. That's it. You agreed. Shut up."

  "You want celebrities Kenneth, so like it or not you need me."

  Ken stops Marcus, and looks at Craig.

  "Oi,' Ken screams. "Where's the landlord?"

  Craig spins around and looks for him. He looks at the open door and runs over to it and out into the street.

  "Look, bottom line Kenny, an A-list celebrity comes with a bigger price tag." Ken just gives him a condescending snort.

  "You couldn't be more of an old penny-pinching Jew if you tried."

  Marcus takes that as a complement, and knows that with that sentence, he is going to get his mark-up.

  "How much? And who is she?"

  "Five thousand pounds."

  "What?" Ken screams getting up.

  "And it's Karen Millburn."

  "Who?"

  "Karen Millburn."

  "I didn't ask you to repeat the name, a name I don't recognise by the way. Who the fuck is Karen Millburn?"

  "She's married to Noz Millburn, lead singer of Injured Party."

  "And she's A-list is she? I only ask as I've never heard of the pair of them, funny that don't you think? Considering how much telly Jane makes me watch."

  "Do you know Sharon Osborne?"

  "Yeah of course I do."

  "Well she's like her."

  "Well fucking get me her then. Don't stick Sharon Osborne in my head, don't let me think I'm getting Sharon moneybags Osborne if I'm not."

  "If we're talking moneybags Kenneth, then Sharon and Ozzy use Asda smart price giveaway plastic ones, and Karen and Noz, Gucci. Diamond encrusted." Ken stares at Marcus for a few seconds.

  "Are you telling me they're bigger than the Osborne's?"

  "Much bigger my boy."

  Craig bursts back into the pub out of breath.

  "The little shit's gone boss, I can't find him anywhere. I'll have to get some help."

  The landlord stumbles up from the cellar with a bottle of champagne in one hand and two champagne glasses in the other. He walks over and pours Ken and Marcus a glass each and leaves the bottle on the table. Ken shakes his head at Craig.

  "Stop playing with the fucking slots and do your job. You can't win on them anyway."

  That's not entirely true, most slots; (slot machines) pay out sixty pence for the first two pounds paid in. Then eighty pence when six pounds has been paid in. A further one pound twenty when fifteen pounds has been paid in, and when the machine has been fed with twenty-five pounds, it'll cough out five pounds. Then the machine will reset itself and start again. Sixty-pence. Eighty-pence. One pound twenty. Five pounds. If the pub or club is particularly busy, the landlord can press a hidden button, and the next punter will hit the jackpot of twenty pounds. This will make all the punters want to have a go. Ken's slots pay out twenty pence for every two pounds paid in, and five pounds for every thirty pounds paid in. If you look very carefully in pubs and clubs, you'll see people slot watching, these are called Slotters. They stand by your side, or just behind you, and count how much money is going into the machines, and hope the punter will give up and walk away just before the sixty-pence, eighty-pence, one pound twenty, or five pounds are due to be paid out. That is when the Slotter will pop his or her ten pence in and win the sixty-pence, eighty-pence, one pound twenty, five pounds, or the jackpot.

  "Injured Party?" Says Ken. "Why have I never heard of them?"

  "Thrash metal Kenneth."

  "What the hell's that?"

  "Music."

  "Oh is it. Any good?"

  Marcus picks up his champagne glass and takes a sip.

  " No. It's horrendous."

  Chapter 6.

  Karen Millburn is sitting in a high back chair holding a small dog. Craig is standing behind the chair making her feel uncomfortable. Ken enters the room.

  "Our fee begins at two hundred and fifty thousand pounds Minimum." Karen says to Ken.

  "Whatever happened to good morning, nice to meet you? Fee, what fee?" Replies Ken.

  "For whatever it is you want me and Noz to promote of course."

  Ken looks at Craig standing behind the chair.

  "What the fuck is she on about?"

  "Hey." Karen protests.

  "She's lost me boss."

  Ken thinks for a moment.

  "Fee? Do you mean fee as in money?"

  "Well of course I do, what do you think I mean."

  "You have it all-wrong girl, I don't pay you, you pay me."

  "Charity? I think we're wasting each other's time here, we're involved with far too many charities as it is."

  "Is it me, or are we having two different conversations here?" Asks Ken.

  "It
's making my head spin boss." Answers Craig.

  Karen has had enough of Craig standing so close to the back of her chair.

  "Is there something about the back of my head that fascinates you, or do you talk to everyone like this?"

  "I like the back of women's heads. What can I say?"

  Ken is confused and holds a hand up to Craig telling him to keep out of it.

  "What's the fiddler told you you're doing here?" Ken asks Karen.

  "The fiddler?" She answers.

  "Marcus."

  "Oh." She says as she half smiles. She gets the Fiddler reference.

  "He said that it would be very beneficial for me and for Noz."

  Ken comes closer to Karen who backs away as if she's backing away from a bad smell; only there isn't a bad smell.

  "What a lovely little doggy." Says Ken. "Can I hold him?"

  "What?" She says rather surprised. "No, she won't go to you, she doesn't like men."

  "Oh go on, I bet he will; let me try."

  No matter what Ken's selling, Karen's not buying and doesn't need. Ken starts to take his jacket off.

  "You don't have to take your jacket off to hold her, her breed doesn't moult." She says to Ken.

  "Oh, does that mean you're going to let me hold him then?"

  Karen has already decided that while Ken is holding Daisy, she'll get her coat on, grab Daisy back, and leave.

  "Well don't blame me if she bites you." Karen says has she hands Daisy to Ken.

  Karen gets up and starts to put her coat on.

  "You wouldn't bite me would you little fella?" Ken says to Daisy.

  Ken puts his hand around Daisy's head, and breaks her neck. The sound of her little bones twisting and breaking reverberate around the room. Stunned, Karen turns and looks at Craig who gives her a big wink and walks over to the door and opens it. Larry Rajeev and Amir enter the room. Karen has her head in her hands. Her face is saying… is this really happening? Did he really just do that? and if so, why is everyone calm and smiling. She wants to scream and shout, do something but she seems to have lost the ability to speak.

  "See, I told you the he wouldn't bite me." Ken says as he throws the lifeless Daisy unceremoniously at Karen's feet. It's only then, when she feels Daisy's lifeless body on her left foot that she realises this isn't staged. This is real.

  "You're a dead man." She yells. "You'll pay for that. Hells Angels I'm talking about mister. Hells fucking Angels; they love my Noz."

  Karen isn't expecting the reply she gets from a smiling calm Ken, and although it registers in her head, it means nothing.

  "If you wear glasses." He says. "I think now would be a good time to put them on."

  Amir drops to his knees and places his hands on Daisy's head, he begins to rock gently back and forth. All Karen can think is that these two Indian men are about to cut Daisy into little pieces, and the glasses Ken referred to are those industrial ones, because there's going to be a lot of blood and guts splattered all over the place.

  "Get away from her." She screams.

  She runs forward and pushes Amir over, grabs the motionless Daisy with one hand and tries to dial 999 on her mobile with the other. Rajeev comes forward. He gestures to her to give him Daisy. Karen is in shock and shakes her head, no. Rajeev gestures to Amir to come over. He does. Amir places a gentle hand on Daisy's head. Karen pulls away. Rajeev persuades her to allow Amir to continue. He gently rocks back and forth. Karen suddenly gasps. Daisy moved. Her natural reaction is to part her arms, which she does, and Daisy begins to fall to the ground. Rajeev quickly catches her and places her on the floor. Amir starts to bring her back to life. Karen falls back onto her chair and watches with eyes wide open, as Daisy comes back to life and jumps into Karen's lap. At first Karen doesn't want to touch her; she's unsure.

  "Daisy?" She asks. But dog lovers know their own pets. She grabs Daisy and hugs and kisses her. "Oh my poor little baby, what did the nasty man do to you?"

  "Do we all agree." Asks the nasty man. That the scruffy little mutt was dead a few minutes ago?"

  Larry Craig Rajeev and Amir, all know the question is aimed at Karen, and after she notices everyone looking at her, so does she.

  "I don't know what to think anymore." She says. "What the hell's going on here? What is this place?"

  Ken makes a move towards Daisy.

  "Hand him over then and we'll do it all again." He says.

  Karen isn't about to hand Daisy back to Ken and hugs her tightly.

  "Ok ok she was dead. But I don't understand."

  "What's to understand?" Asks Ken. "He was dead and now he's alive. It's known in the trade as a fucking miracle. Good aint it?

  Karen's confused.

  "I don't know, is it?" She Asks.

  "Trust me girl, it is."

  Karen strokes and hugs Daisy and sighs…

  "Ok, you've got my attention."

  Ken hands Karen three pieces of paper. It takes a second or two for her to become conscious of what she's holding. Copies of Karen and Noz's birth certificates, and their latest bank statement.

  "Our birth certificates? She gasps. "How the hell did you get these?"

  "We found them under a pyramid." Quips Craig, having a little dig at her age.

  She's about to hit back at him, but notices what the other document is.

  "Jesus Christ, our bank statements?"

  Ken takes the documents back and looks at Larry Rajeev and Amir, and nods to them to leave the room.

  "This birth certificate tells me you're no spring chicken, and as for your husband, Nigel."

  "Noz if you don't mind. Noz." She snaps. "He hasn't been called that, since he was a little boy."

  "When was that, 1845?" Asks Craig laughing.

  She looks at Craig and laughs back.

  "I've met so many little wannabes like you over the years, you wouldn't believe."

  "I can see why he changed his name boss, not very rock and roll is it?" Says Craig who then deliberately and slowly walks back behind Karen's chair.

  "How would you and your husband like to look twenty years younger?" Asks Ken.

  "That would be you and Nigel by the way." Taunts Craig.

  Karen doesn't even bother to turn her head to look at him. Wherever beyond contempt is, that's where Karen is with Craig right now.

  "You should get yourself a little girlfriend to play with, you sad little boy, instead of hiding behind grown-up's chairs."

  Craig is about to come back with something when Ken gives him a 'shut up' look. He shuts up.

  "I said, how would you and your husband like to look twenty years younger?"

  "We already do." Answers Karen.

  Ken's becoming more and more annoyed with the pace of Karen's replies. He moves directly in front of her, making her and Daisy sink back into the chair only to realise she's now nearer to Craig. She's about to get up when…

  "Now what can we learn from these documents? Asks Ken waving them in her face.

  "One, you're stinking rich. Two, the grim-reaper has his beady-eye on you both."

  "Oh, so that's it is it? You're after our money. I'm being kidnapped by a fat dog-killing lunatic."

  Ken closes his eyes in frustration. He's still not getting the answer he's after. He suddenly becomes conscious of Karen's fat comment.

  "Oi, what do you mean fat? I'm not fat."

  Being called a dog killing lunatic is one thing, but being called a fat dog killing lunatic, is quite another.

  "I'm not fat, if I'm fat, then you're a whore. Am I fat?"

  "Just get to the point will you fatso."

  "Me get to the point? I've been trying to get to the fucking point for the past half an hour woman."

  "Get to the point or I'm walking." Shouts Karen.

  "Fine, but trust me, if you interrupt me again you won't be walking, you'll be fucking flying. Straight out that window. So, let's try it another way shall we? How would you and Nigel like to be twenty years younger then?"

 
; Karen is kissing and hugging Daisy again and still not answering Ken. Considering just seconds ago she was screaming at him to get to the point, Ken finds this somewhat surprising. He looks at Craig as if to say, 'can you believe this woman?' Craig lifts his hand and gestures, 'shall I give her a little slap around the head boss?' Ken gives a slight shake of his head and Craig begrudgingly lowers his hand.

  "I said… how would you both like to be twenty years younger?"

  "What are you talking about?" Says a confused Karen. "I've had to sit through some weird meetings in my time being married to Noz..."

  Ken looks at Craig as if to say, 'can you still believe this woman isn't answering me'? Craig lifts his hand and gestures 'shall I give her a little slap around the head boss.' Ken thinks for a second or two this time, and then gives a slight shake of his head and Craig begrudgingly lowers his hand again. Karen carries on.

  "Proper weird meetings, but this, this is something else."

  "Fucking hell woman, have you finished or what?" Shouts Ken.

  Karen gives him a 'Get on with it then' look.

  "When you two get out of bed in the mornings, what does it take, an hour or so before your joints start moving properly?"

  Being around the heavy metal scene since the late 60's takes its toll on a girl, so trying her hardest not to show Ken that he's hit a raw nerve she shrugs her shoulders.

  "Couple of minutes maybe… sometimes… for Noz."

  "Rubbish." Sneers Ken. "A couple of minutes? I Googled you. You've been around since year dot, it would be quicker for me to say who you haven't slept with, than who you have."

  Karen shrugs her shoulders again and dismisses Ken and hugs and kisses Daisy.

  "What if I told you I could take all your aches and pains away, give you the mind and the body of the twenty-year-old slut you once were." He looks at the birth certificate, and tries but fails, to work out her age.

  "Instead of the old slut you are now. Would you be interested?"

  Karen hears the question and although she doesn't answer, Ken knows she's thinking about it because the dog hugging and kissing has changed; they're both still happening, but they're both on autopilot now. Craig isn't as well-read in body language as Ken, and he lifts his hand and gestures, 'shall I give her a little slap around the head boss' but before Ken can give him yet another shake of his head, she nonchalantly asks.