Chapter 8: A New Way of Life

What a change in our circumstances that had been thrust upon me! Strangely, the ease that I could obtain anything, my wealth, I hardly noticed. There were other distractions that affected me far more. My activities had been, and would be for weeks, determined by others.

That was why the following morning I felt most comfortable with a cup of tea in bed. I sat back and savoured it, admiring the moves of my athletic nude beauty and pleased that she had woken up early enough to provide me with the decadent luxury. I felt I was in nirvana as I came to my senses in the luxurious room. Yet it was her personality rather than the opulence of the surroundings that pleased me most.

It took until the cup was half empty for me to appreciate the enormous changes that I, no, we, faced. Reality struck, with a mundane thought, I still had no pyjamas or sports gear that was on the agenda for today, the pyjamas in case someone else came in to clean the apartment while I was in bed.

My metabolism was already missing my morning runs, and I knew that too much of this food would make me wind down very quickly if I didn't keep up with exercise. For years I'd thrived on an adrenaline pump a couple of times a day. As a short term measure, Charlie and I ran through my slow Tai Chi routine before we had a shower.

More importantly, I was disturbed by the change in my circumstances. The enormity of the drastic transformation began to scare me. If it had not been for Charlie's presence I think I would have been quite scared.

That was why preparing breakfast was fun. It brought back some semblance of reality to our situation. Yes, it's far better cooking your own, isn't it?

I won't go into details, but that bit of 'home life' made me feel a damn sight better. Charlie complained at the sheer quantity of food. Well, we had to try all four varieties of sausage and both black puddings. The chef had chosen well, none was over spiced and neither too fatty nor lumpy, just what you want, with a good meaty taste.

I made a mental note to let the chef know he had been on target particularly for the bacon, and that we liked three of the sausages and either of the two selections of black pudding, it was some of the best I'd ever tasted. I did ask myself how he'd been able to source it over here so quickly.

Later I found he'd been in touch with a fellow chef in London and had it all flown over. If I'd have known I'd have vetoed the extravagance.

Today there was a lot to do. First things first, when we were dressed I enquired about gym facilities and found an appointment was made for that afternoon with a gym specialist here at the apartment.

Before I was ready to submit to more demands from Her Gunter, I got a telephone call and recognised the voice of Herr Flockel. Without introducing himself by name he simply suggested "Perhaps you would like to take a coffee with me?"

Why the hell should I want that, was my initial reaction, before I recognised he must have had an ulterior motive and I agreed. We followed his instructions to a pavement café and saw him sitting there with another man.

"This is Mr Schmidt, perhaps I can leave you three alone?" he looked askance at Charlie's presence but said nothing more except, "I think Mr Schmidt might expect confidentiality," with the unspoken suggestion that I should not have brought Charlie along.

Once the three of us were sitting at the table I looked at Mr Schmidt who had said nothing as yet. I kicked off, "I don't know how much you know, but someone's been after me, almost killed me and had his gun to Charlie's head." I brought that up so he could see Charlie had a vested interest in what was said. She was no idle companion who was just here for coffee and some interesting tittle tattle.

"Yes, the information has been intimated to me," he said in a peculiarly accented trans-Atlantic voice. I later gathered he was from the States, but he had been raised somewhere else in Europe during the formative years of his speech.

"Can you help?" I queried hesitantly.

His response was very equally tentative, as if he didn't want to commit to anything, "Perhaps I can. One can never be sure, but Herr Flockel is aware of my credentials and the sources I can call upon. He also assures me that you are able to finance an operation that can exceed over a million dollars?" he posed this as a question.

I nodded, taking my cue from him to be circumspect.

"I have gone over details with Her Flockel, who has exceeded his mandate. I have no such restrictions. I understand the objective is to seek some proof of the complicity of one or more citizens of Nevada." This let me know that he must have been told many details of my enquiry.

Then followed a quietly worded but detailed resumée of his capabilities and what he was prepared to do, warning me, "It is unlikely the contract will be completed in a short time frame. I should say months rather than weeks would be the most likely scenario.

"We shall initially have a preliminary operation in reconnaissance, sighting and planting listening posts, and I must warn you there is a danger that such things would be discovered. This is potentially the most dangerous part of the exercise and cannot be hurried. We have to be very careful. Such activities involve trespassing on the land and entering their buildings. If our presence is identified and they are as violent as you say they are, they would have every right to shoot anybody on their property as 'burglars' without any qualms. Judging by what we know, they would not hesitate."

He made clear the dangers and what might face his operatives he would use, "The danger alone makes the choice of whom I select quite difficult, but then we want no sign of our incursions to be seen so we have to engage the most highly trained men there are, with the capabilities of temporary disabling alarms and the like."

He really was making this sound very complex. And I had thought it would be a relatively simple exercise!

"Although my team is very capable, and includes a number of specialists, I may well have to engage other experts to combat any particular problems we encounter."

"Such as?"

He smiled, "If we knew what they were, they would not be unforeseen. In the past we have had to use divers get access, or even float down on property by parachute if the perimeter alarms are insurmountable. I cannot foretell what the problems are that you are hiring me to solve."

"And once you have the surveillance bugs in place?" I enquired.

"Then it is pure luck. It could entail hours of monitoring a large number of different premises. There is no guarantee that anybody will come out precisely and say, 'We were fucked up when the killer we hired didn't do a good job'. That type of thing only happens in literature. We may get a number of clues but we can never be a hundred per cent to get actual proof of their complicity in the actions that took place in the United Kingdom."

"You don't think you can identify who it was?"

"I can probably assure you now that we shall get no proof that would be acceptable in any law court in the United States. I suggest before we embark on the venture, you consider very carefully what you are going to do if and when we discover who has been trying to kill you. There are various options open to you, none of which is particularly cheap. I leave you to think about that. How far are you prepared to take this? Do you want to put a stop to the culprit's activities?"

His tone lowered, "Do you want to take action that will deter others, and if so, you must gauge your own reactions. I have seen many moral persons regretting hasty and violent retribution, no matter how deserved. Are you prepared for extreme measures? Could you live with yourself afterwards? If you do decide not to execute the ultimate sanction do you really want to know the details of any retribution or leave that to us? I think you should consider those questions BEFORE we identify your targets, as you do not strike me as a violent man. Ask yourself if you really are sure you want me to go ahead, knowing this."

Oh yes, there was no doubt about that. "I need you to find out who it was, even if it is just to keep a check on them to see that they don't try to set somebody else onto me." I said, but he had certainly jolted my ideas by his thought provoking comments.

Yes I needed to discover who it was, if for no other reason than to put an end to the any further attacks. They could not get away with what they had done to the Stirrupsons scot-free*. Yet After a few more formalities I decided to agree to an initial down payment of a million dollars. It appeared to be a bit steep, but not after he had specified the problems and the enormity of the task.

Getting into a taxi the three of us went off to a Lamborghini showroom when, using my debit card, I got a receipt for two Lamborghinis totalling almost one and a quarter million Swiss francs, two vehicles which I knew I would never see. It appeared to be a peculiar way to pay someone to my mind, but I was new to this type of covert operation. I wasn't quite sure how much of it was legal, probably not much.

It was only later that I came back and found that I had shaken myself at having spent so much money with so little thought. I tried to ease my conscience with the fact that the expenditure was necessary to ensure my safety and that of Charlie.

Before we returned to the apartment, I picked up a map of the town and discovered that running alongside Lake Zurich was some parkland that I could use as a running track. We were not too badly placed for access to the open space, but I would look further into the following day.

On my return to the bank we found that Herr Gunter had set up a more viable timetable for me, starting, of course with a good forty minutes of legal documents.

Charlie and I took lunch again next door, but I decided that I would go into the workers' canteen restaurant. There was a choice of two specials, and, after our enormous breakfast, today we choose something lighter, the fish, a very pleasant meal.

Charlie retired to the apartment where she commandeered the aid of the secretary designated to help me. Though we were in a German-speaking area this clerk was multilingual. As a native French speaker she spent the rest of the day helping Charlie to cope with her languages. It impressed me tremendously that she had taken the initiative in doing this.

After another couple of hours studying under Herr Gunter, this time at my pace, I was relieved to be called to the apartment to meet the sports machine expert.

By the time I had arrived Charlie had picked up the phone and summoned an architect who showed me that there was a space at the rear of my apartment which could be incorporated into an exercise room. Just looking at the machines in brochures didn't help me. Within twenty minutes we were on our way to a private leisure centre.

The first thing we did when we arrived was notice that showcases displayed rather expensive sports kit. Both Charlie and I dropped into their 'boutique' and picked up a couple of sets of sportswear. I had never been to one of these places before, and the prices were astronomical. I tried to get my shorts and vests in muted colours, but I'm sure that most of them were designed to be shown off, it wasn't my thing at all.

Then both Charlie and I went into the gymnasium where we were shown and practised on a variety of different machines. It wasn't really my forté, but living in an apartment I recognised that I couldn't do as much running as I'd like to. I think that I disappointed the salesman, because I only opted for three exercise machines and a running machine. As far as I was concerned I think that these would keep me fit and healthy.

By the time that we had returned Herr Gunter was waiting for me, "You're out!"

I had no idea what he meant until he produced a photocopy of a page in that day's Sydney Morning Herald.

This is him girls!
AUSTRALIA'S RICHEST BACHELOR.

There was a photograph of me and Charlie at the restaurant on the front page,

"An unknown supermodel makes moves in on Australia's richest bachelor. In Europe yesterday court records show the heir to a Western Australian mines and shipping magnate took formal control of his Australian business empire. He is identified as Scott Mather, a distant relative of the renowned businessman known as The Prospector. He was the subject of the 1981film of the same name, which described his life story in the outback when the character discovered many of the mineral deposits to which Australia owes its present prosperity. It was he who established the business empire that prospered under his son Samuel, who was killed with his family in the air crash in America late last year

"That bloody restaurant!" I let off.

"I'll call Public Relations," announced Herr Gunter.

The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. I was still aware there could be someone searching for me, but Herr Gunter assured me, "As bankers, we generally prefer to conduct out business in private. Our public relations staff spends as much time trying to bury news at it does in publicising our achievements."

The thirty-something woman who came up took one look at the photocopy and of the newspaper and went to a computer, running off another copy of the article this time in full colour, "Yes," she said with a determined look. She stared at me again, "The original looks as if you have a red beard,"

"The lighting on the table was that colour," Charlie admitted.

For some reason this gave the woman a big smile, "Correct me if I am wrong, but part of my remit here is to ensure you are not in the public eye?"

'Too right, I wanted a low profile', ran through my head as I nodded agreement.

"That might not be as easy as you think. We must not appear to have a secret millionaire, nothing excites the public more than a Howard Hughes. Nothing raises the frenzy of the media more than a furtive personality. Ostensibly we must present you as the next head of a large business organisation. Sometime in the near future you must attend a press conference, but that would be at a later date when we have had time to groom you.

"At this moment in time the worst thing we can do is keep you under wraps. That will just arouse the interest of the media."

I didn't like the way this was going, but the advertising woman appeared to know what she was doing. "We must act now. The best thing is to publish formal photographs of you. Distribute them to the business news media in a way that says very little, but appears to act as if you are not trying to hide away."

She got things moving pretty fast. A couple of suit jackets from somewhere, a hairdresser who altered my appearance and who ran a brush through my beard and hair a few times, giving it a decidedly gingery appearance, then the photographer came in and took a number of photos of me behind the desk, holding a pen, in a meeting with a colleague or colleagues, and then standing up in front of different backgrounds, once or twice with a glass in my hand and with other people milling around.

Afterwards, in the bathroom, I soon found out that the hair colouring quickly washed out before I returned to the study.

"We'll use these photos to spread a little misinformation. How does the name Red Mat suit you?"

"Suit me?"

"It should draw attention to your hair colouring. We want people to identify you with that feature then, if they catch sight of you, with your normal light brown colouring, they are unlikely to recognise the new international entrepreneur."

She was not slow, and returned some half an hour later to tell me that the Australian paper's restaurant photos had already been picked up in the latest editions of the Los Angeles Business Journal. " ... and are likely to be in much of the business press here in Europe by tomorrow morning," she added knowledgably.

She was already taking efforts to counter the initial more dramatic comments, by getting a tame news agency on the phone to distribute 'official pictures', and dropping hints that I was known simply as 'Red' around the office.

Her ruse appeared to be successful, because by the following morning various photographs and brief comments appeared in a number of papers from the Western Australian and the Financial Review Asia-Pacific region's premier source of business and finance news and analysis, The Malaysian Business Times.

A few hours later the Europe printing presses had a short piece in Der Spiegel as did the Frankfurter Zeitung, In Paris Le Monde, Italy's La Repubblica and the English Financial Times ran it. Later in the day, the morning business pages of the New York Times and the Washington Post used one of the articles referring to the Nevada holdings.

From these, over the next few days, the item was picked up and used as a filler from the Far East to South America. The public relations expert had succeeded. I was no longer an immediate figure of interest for the paparazzi.

I think that I recognised the common sense of my adviser's argument. "In the next few months you must visit Australia and conduct afew interviews, probably on the inaugural voyage for the new bulk carrier, when you can confirm that you will be continuing the business policy of Samuel and are devoting your resources to developing the ore business just as the company always has."

"You really think that I have to do that?"

"The more we can present you to the public as a run of the mill, though young, business man, the less interested they will be in your private life, and that is what we want, isn't it?"

I suppose she was right.

I know I had to limit my days in the UK, but I owed it to Charlie to get her settled down revising and had allowed myself a long week-end to establish her in the hotel. I also wanted to shortlist and interview a number of tutors. Another day's studying, and before I knew it, we were flying back to Chester.

We set off early on Friday morning from the airport. This time we went to a stand on the outfield of Zurich airport where I saw three or four other planes all in their subdued light and dark grey livery neatly painted in small letters, Swiss Seas Leasing and Charter.

I was surprised that we boarded one of the larger ones, but inside it appeared as though the cabin was foreshortened. My first reaction was that it was used for freight as well.

Once we had settled in, I asked the stewardess, "No, sir," she got up and walked to the rear, opened the door to reveal a large bed set across the width of the rear. "This is a Falcon DX and was the private jet of Mr. Samuel. Although it needs to refuelled twice on the way to Australia, that did not overly concern him, as he generally timed himself so as to have much of the journey in bed in order to arrive quite refreshed.

"A Falcon DX?"

"It's made in France, but since this was manufactured there are other aircraft on the market that you may prefer for your own. I was asked to enquire if you have been considering the selection of another for your private use."

In all honesty the last thing I want to be doing was making decisions about things of which I knew nothing. My knowledge of private jets was zilch, and I realised I'd have to know a lot more before I decided to change. The last thing that I wanted to do was buy a white elephant*.

How do you go about choosing a business jet? How important was the distance it could fly without being refuelled? How much could it carry? Was it expensive on fuel? And I'm sure that there were other questions that I should be asking.

Forget it, I had enough on my plate.

Arriving at Hawarden airport we had brought quite a bit of luggage. Once it had been transported over to the parking area the VW was laden to the roof. Strangely, I was more nervous now about being picked up by the police for driving without a licence, and was very careful to drive into Chester safely. I got out of the hotel and vowed that I would not drive again until I had passed my test and was legal. There was no need, I could hire a taxi whenever I wanted.

"What are you going to do about the car, can I have it for when I reach seventeen*?"

I considered Charlie's bid but before I made a decision. I grabbed hold of all the car's documentation. I had to thank Mrs Welcome, the old dear who had sold it to me and arranged for the insurance. I decide to 'phone her and tell her to cancel it now.

She was quite lively and certainly remembered me, "So you've got back from your last voyage?" she asked, reminding me of the tale that I had told her that I was going back to sea.

"Yes, I just got back from abroad and I was phoning to tell you that you can cancel the insurance now."

"Of course, my dear, if you'll just give me your address and I'll return any balance that the insurance company repays me."

I insisted that was unnecessary as she started giving me a rundown on how her family was doing. I detected a slight regret that she had sold the car to me, as one of her grandson's, recently married, had enquired after it, as it was just the thing to carry around all the paraphernalia for a second baby.

On the spur of the moment I took his name and address. What was a few thousand pounds to me now? That car had proved invaluable to me with Mrs Welcome's help. I was really grateful to her.

Getting off the phone, I arranged for it to be valeted and delivered to her grandson's address in Lichfield. At least I wouldn't be tempted to drive it without a licence. It amused me that Mrs Welcome would never be able to contact me and thank the unknown benefactor because I'd originally offered her a false name and never registered the car in my own.

With all our own luggage brought in from the car, it was quite obvious that we needed another room in which to store it. Unfortunately the hotel would not have one free until after the weekend, so a lot of the stuff that we had brought went into storage in the hotel until the Monday.

I suppose it was getting on for mid-morning before I switched on my mobile again.

The phone started ringing almost immediately and I started taking brief notes from potential tutors. The rate of pay that I offered was certainly drawing teachers, old and new, out of the woodwork. Very quickly I told the newly qualified teachers that this was not a job for an inexperienced person. The calls continued throughout Saturday, at all times of the day and night as people read the newspaper.

By Sunday morning I had rung a few of the callers back to clarify various points and made shortlists for various subject teachers, arranging appointments starting that morning.

In the meantime Charlie got one of the rooms in the suite sorted out as a study room, with a few tables from the hotel for her books.

If I thought I was going to have a rest this weekend I was disappointed. Sunday was full of interviews until seven at night. It was that evening I gave her annuities that had been drawn up.

"I don't want the money," she complained the moment I presented them to her.

There were two reasons that I had arranged for them. The first reason, I didn't tell her. I saw a problem in our relationship in my having the money. I didn't want her to feel, either now or in the future, that she was attached to me by the money and didn't feel free to make her own decision to leave. I wanted any decision to stay with me to be made whether she relied upon me financially or not. I wanted to set her free to make any decision without that problem.

I set out my second reason, "It came to me when you had your debit card and you were talking about the limit. I want you to feel that you've got your own money and don't have to come to me every five minutes if you spend more than a few thousand pounds."

"I was never going to spend that much."

"Don't be silly, if you're with me and we stay in a five star hotel, you buy a few meals, some clothes, you'll be paying top prices. I should hate having you come to me every time you wanted a bit more." I had a half remembered memory of Mum's having to ask Mr. McAlpine for the week's housekeeping on a regular basis, and had sensed her distaste. I told her how I'd felt, even as a child, when that had happened.

"But you're my master," she said very quietly in a deferential way.

It was difficult to answer that but I tried, "And I don't feel that I have the right to tell you what to do, if I feel that you have no choice and are tied to me. In this way, I know that it is your choice to serve me and you are not being forced by circumstances."

She only accepted it very reluctantly, after I had explained that I wouldn't even notice the amount of money having disappeared from any of my accounts. I was right, money was a problem.

That night the issue was still there and we didn't make it up, neither of us slept very well.

It upset me. But it was only later in the week that I was relieved that I had broached the subject as early as I had. I hoped we had got rid of the complication. Only time would tell.

Monday morning came and we had a full complement of tutors.

The most difficult thing was to arrange was a timetable. We tried to do that on Monday afternoon, having five tutors in the room and making phone calls to the others. By four o'clock we had a rough timetable drafted out whereby Charlie had five lessons a day every day Monday to Friday. We also allowed time for her to have lunch or breakfast with a language teacher to improve her speaking skills in French and now German. German was a subject which my ignorance of had previously left me unable to help her with.

Then a problem raised its head. Two of the tutors raised a problem. "The GCSE November examinations are for resits only."

Charlie had not sat exams in May.

Nevertheless, we decided to go on with the studying and attack that problem separately. On the way back to Zurich I considered the difficulty and wondered how to overcome it. I didn't know how to do it myself, so I contacted Messrs Catchpole, Stirrupson and Fisher of London. I'm not sure who I spoke to, but whoever it was, was well aware that I was a client of substantial means who had been referred by their Swiss correspondent. I was put on to a younger solicitor who dealt with family law.

After some discussion he realised that this was not a case of taking a negative decision of the rules and regulations. He was to do everything to search for loopholes to ensure that Charlie could take the exams in November.

The rest of the week I spent bogged down in getting to grips with more details of the vast empire.

The following week-end I arrived in Chester early Saturday morning and stayed until Sunday night, to discover Charlie had lots of work to do and we had very little time to ourselves.

During the week I had a telephone call from Mr. Brothers, the lawyer in the office of Catchpole, Stirrupson and Fisher. "I think we might be able to get your daughter to sit examinations in November."

Well, I put him right about the 'daughter' bit. He needed Charlie to come down to Southampton with him at the end of the week and get sick notes from her parents and from the doctor as well as a letter from the school confirming the fact that he had been unable to sit the planned exams for which she had been entered. Then he would ask for a change of examination centre to Chester for the resits. It all seemed very complicated to me, and I resented the fact that Charlie would have to give up a day's studying to waste going to the south coast.

In the event, I arranged for a flight from Hawarden to Southampton Airport on the Friday where she met Mr. Brothers who had come down from London by train.

NARRATIVE

Mr. Brothers met up with Charlie at the information desk at Southampton airport, called a taxi and went directly to Charlie's home.

Immediately her mother got on the offensive and made for Charlie again, making a grab for her hair. Had she learnt nothing? This time Charlie pulled no punches, she raised her knee and rather than just giving the woman a bloody nose she broke it. The scuffle was heard by her brother, Robert.

In dirty underwear he rushed downstairs, took one look at who was there and made to grab his step sister. Coming so close in, Charlie raised her knee right between his legs, using one of the women's self-defence tactics.

As he fell back clutching his crotch, her father staggered in. She had no trouble with him as he had been drinking the night before and was still hardly awake. He too ended up splayed on the kitchen floor.

Mr. Brothers stood, shocked just as Scott had done in similar circumstances. He stared, not knowing what to do until he took out his cell phone to start dialling for the police.

Quick-thinking Charlie grabbed it from his hands, just before Robert staggered back with a wildly swinging haymaker. As if lazily practising her Tai Chi slow moves, Charlie wove her head out of the way, gave a little pull on his arm, and helped his to head collide with wall behind with a crash.