Trader Jack -The Story of Jack Miner (The Story of Jack Miner Series) (11 page)

They sold their house and went to Johannesburg, South Africa, Wardle continued. Slimcop became friendly with a geologist and learnt about the gold mining industry. Later there was a gold mining boom and Slimcop made a lot of money. He came back to London and bought a house in Hampstead.

'The Silver Fox is so canny that he bought the house at a fire sale price during a property depression,' said Wardle smiling. 'Leila has a studio there.'

Wardle continued: 'What I really like about Stan is that he went out of his way to find Safron and Slimcop clients who had lost money. He first paid back pensioners and other poor clients. Recently he settled his debts with the richer ones.'

'Some guy,' I said.

'I haven't come across another like him,' Wardle replied as we walked back to the office. 'You couldn't find a better friend.'

*   *   *

Dr Klugheim wants to see me again. Why the attention? What about the other cons? He's excited when I enter his room. His face, red from sunburn. Doesn't have his jacket on. A shirt button undone. Hairy and fat. I can't help but smile. He looks down and sorts out his shirt.

'Your book's getting really interesting,’ he says keenly.

I know that look. Seen it many times before. Greed! I glance at file on desk. It says 'Portfolio'.

'What's that?' I ask, fully aware what this is all about.

'My shares.’

'O fuck, here we go again,' I whisper, loud enough for him to hear. 'What about the hypocritical oath?'

'The Hippocratic oath states that the doctor must do his best to take care of the patient. Any complaints, Jack?' he snaps.

'You scratch my back and I. . .'

'We're not going to get into that Jack. Doctors are entitled to make a living. Save for school fees, holidays, old age.'

'How your shares doing?'

'Not so good. We can talk about that later. First you.'

'What about me?'

'When you made your first few thousand, how did you feel?'

'Shit of course, what you expect?'

'Stop trying to be funny,' snaps Klugheim. 'I'm giving you extra time. I've got other patients. If you don't want to be here . . .'

'Obviously it felt good,' I reply, deciding I'd better play ball.

‘I want to know how you really felt. Was it like gambling? Did you get a buzz when you beat the system? Was it a high?'

'Not like that. Never thought it was a gamble. Just made sense.'

'I'm not sure I understand,’ says Klugheim, drawing me out.

'Dunno how to explain. When my gold shares did great, it was like slamming a ball into the goal post. Felt like doing high fives with the brokers.'

'Did you?'

'No. I could see they felt crap when I got it right. They were losing. I was winning.'

'How did you feel afterwards? When it sank in?'

'Pretty good. Funny though, it wasn't so much about the money. It was the respect. They began to take me seriously. Saw that I wasn't just a boy. Was someone.'

'Good. I want you to start feeling that way about yourself again. Regain your self-esteem,’ says Klugheim, snapping his fingers.

'Time's up.'

He's smiling a genuine smile. I'm beginning to like him.

'The deal is that I take a look at your shares, right?'

'You'll continue with your book and we'll see each other again,' he says.

'Can I look?' I ask, as I open the portfolio file.

It shows that Klugheim owns shares in thirty companies. No wonder he doesn't know what's going on.

'What you reckon they're worth?'

'They've fallen from around 200K to 120K.'

'OK, get me stock prices and charts. Provided. . .'

'Provided what?'

‘I get ten per cent of the profits.'

Klugheim smiles: 'Know what chutzpah means?'

'Got some idea.’

'This is between ourselves,' says Klugheim.

We shake on it. Not sure if I'll get my ten per cent, but maybe he'll get me out of here.

9 - NEW FRIENDS

Reading a map that Wardle had given me, I crossed Hampstead High Street and walked through some narrow alleyways into Church Street. At the end of the road, I wandered into the church's shady graveyard. Tombstones, three to four hundred years old were in the shadows of beech and oak trees. John Constable's tombstone was there. He must have lived in Hampstead. Mum was a fan of his landscape paintings. We often walked in 'Constable Country' which was in Suffolk.

The church and graveyard were on a hill. Over the fence, about twenty metres below, I spotted the gravel road that Wardle had drawn on the map. I ambled out of the graveyard, turned right, walked down a path and reached the road. Iron railings surrounded a modern bungalow. I rang the security button and called out my name. The gate opened. Giant sunflowers and roses were on either side of a short, narrow, winding stone path that lead to the front door.

A large bronze sculpture of a bird was near the entrance. A boy and a girl opened the door. They were both blonde with freckles and looked about twelve. I guessed that they were twins.

'Hi Jack, I'm Tom,' said the boy in a broad South African accent. 'Stan told us you were coming.'

'I'm Tess. Are you going to swim with us?' asked the girl.

I followed them through a large open living room with wide windows and lots of light. The walls were covered with paintings and charcoal etchings of sparrows, eagles, vultures and other birds. Sculptures of birds, heads and torsos were on pedestals, bookcases and stools.

Slimcop was sitting on the patio with a woman dressed in white trousers and an emerald, silk, blouse. She was about seventy, with grey hair in a bun, lined but pretty, with lots of make-up. So much so that she looked like a painted doll. Slimcop stood up, came towards me and shook my hand and introduced the woman. He towered over her.

'Good to see you Jack . . . Leila, my wife.'

She held out a limp hand and I shook it softly as she looked me up and down. I felt a bit nervous.

'Take off your dark glasses, young man. Let's take a good look at you.' She turned to Slimcop: 'He's got an interesting face. You said he's sixteen. He looks older.'

'I turned sixteen on June 1,' I said.

'Marilyn Monroe's birthday.'

'Yes, my Mum always reminded me.'

'Gemini. Dual personality. Know what time you were born?' asks Leila, looking at the palms of my hands.

'Just before midnight,' I said.

I wondered if she was a mystic or something. She let my hands go.

'You could be a good subject, Jack. Want to sit for me?'

'Leila's an artist. A sculptor. Relax and sit down,' said Slimcop.

'You seem to like birds,' I said.

'Fascinating creatures. Did you ever see that Hitchcock film . . . The Birds?'

'No.'

'Flocks of birds attack families who are on holiday.'

'Wow!'

While we were chatting, Tom and Tess were running and jumping into the swimming pool, that was in the centre of the back garden.

'Come and join us Jack,' shouted Tess.

'Don't have any trunks,' I called.

'I'll lend you some . . . Let's talk first,' said Stanley.

Leila got up and came back soon afterwards with a drawing pad. She moved her chair to a spot where she could have full sight of my profile and started sketching.

'Don't take any notice of me,' she said.

'They're South Africans, aren't they,' I said, getting up to fetch a ball that Tom had thrown in our direction.

'Please sit down Jack. Don't move,' insisted Leila. 'The family immigrated here a year ago. They now live in Salisbury. Know many South Africans?'

'Only one. He was a friend of my Dad. I met him years ago. He was a prospector. Searched for gold, diamonds . . . that sort of stuff.'

'I know a few geologists. What's his name?' asked Stan.

'Fred Carrender.'

'Heard of him. The South African mining community is small. Everyone knows each other,' said Stan.

Leila stopped drawing and looked up: 'Maybe he's a friend of Ivor. Tess, Tom come here, please.'

They grabbed their towels and ran to us.

'Did your Grandpa have a friend called Fred Carrender?'

'Yes, he used to come to our house sometimes,' said Tom.

'Brought lots of chocolate,' grinned Tess.

'You know Fred Carrender?' I asked amazed.

'Their grandfather's also a geologist,' said Stan.

'Grandpa's going to be here in a few days. We're going to Scotland,' said Tom excitedly.

'We have some cousins there. We're going to ride horses and walk in the Highlands,' said Tess.

'Then the Edinburgh festival and back to school,' said Leila.

Their faces dropped.

'Life always turns up with something interesting, Jack. Time for a celebration,' said Leila cheerfully. 'Perhaps you can meet Ivor and find out more about your Dad's friend.'

She went inside and a little later came out with some biscuits, beers and cold drinks. 'Want a beer, Jack?'

'Thanks,' I said, and quickly downed a bottle of Castle, a South African lager.

The children went off to change and Leila sat down again to etch me.

'I'll show you my drawing of Ivor later,' she said. 'He's a good friend. Helped us when we were down.'

I didn't want to tell the Slimcops everything, but it just came out. It felt safe there. They were so open and friendly. I told them about Dad's letter, how he had saved Fred Carrender from drowning and that Fred had given Dad the OilFinder and MineDeep shares. How I sneaked out of Bridlington and kept the shares away from Mark Baton, the liquidator. I didn't tell them about Sandy. As far as I was concerned, she was history.

'Do you know how much your Dad owed his creditors?' asked Stan.

'Not sure. I think that Baton said it was around £25,000,' I said.

'I think Jim Wardle's right. Your Dad gave you his shares before he died,' said Stan thoughtfully. 'It doesn't belong to the insolvent estate, but that Baton sounds nasty. He could make your life uncomfortable.'

'Remember when we went under. The liquidators grabbed most for themselves,' said Leila bitterly. 'Get some legal advice, Jack.'

'I've got a better idea,' said Stan. 'Let's get shot of him. I'll settle your Dad's debts through my lawyer.'

His generosity was astounding. I didn't know what to say.

'You don't have to do that,' I stammered.

'The creditors will be happy. All they want is their money. My lawyer will act on behalf of an anonymous benefactor,' said Stan.

'What about Baton? He'll want to get his hands on it.'

'No way. My lawyer will obtain the list of creditors and pay them directly.'

'Mrs Derby. We owed her a lot of rent. She's a good woman,' I blurted out.

'Mrs Derby will be first on the list,' laughed Stan.

He was pacing up and down, walking up towards the swimming pool and back again. He seemed to be remembering something that had happened to him; possibly when he lost all his money.

'What if Baton wants more?' I asked.

'Baton will get a fee for his services,' said Slimcop.

'The lowest possible fee,' said Leila, clenching her teeth. 'We were insolvent once, Jack. We know what it's like. Liquidators scavenging, grabbing most for themselves.'

'Did Jim tell you that I'm giving you some money, Jack?'

'Yes . . . No need . . . You're doing more than . . .'

'You did me a good turn Jack . . . You helped me make my mind up. I've made a lot of money out of those gold shares. Will fifty thousand do?'

'You're already settling my Dad’s debts . . . That’s more than enough.'

'Fifty thousand pounds it is. What will you do with the money, Jack?'

'Not sure. Maybe I'll buy more shares.'

'Investing is a good idea. But so is education. What about finishing school and going to university?'

'I'll think about it. I'll see how I do in my GCSEs.'

'You get your results mid-August don't you?' said Leila. 'How do you think you've done?'

'Not sure. No point in guessing,' I said, thinking to myself that I would be lucky to get a few Cs.

*   *   *

I borrowed swimming trunks from Stan. They were too big for me, but I tied them as tight as I could. The pool seemed to be heated, as it was much warmer than the ponds on the Heath and the Lido at Gospel Oak. I had never swum in a private pool before, so I had to get used to it. With only a few strokes I was at the other side, turned and was back again. I must have done twenty or thirty lengths, but I reckon that I probably swam only three hundred metres. Pity Jazz wasn't around. He would have jumped in.

The pool was in the middle of a lawn that sloped down towards a fence about two and a half metres high. I climbed out and dried myself in the bright early evening sun and looked around me. Since the house and the pool were about midway up a hill, there was a good view below. To the left of the pool, which was eastwards, I could see a line of cars on the main road heading uphill towards the village. Further east were the green trees of the Heath. Southwards, through a heat haze, I managed to spot the dome of St Paul's, some five or six miles away. The pool and lawn dominated the garden. On the borders of the lawn were a variety of bushes and shrubs and multi-coloured flowers ranging from dahlias and marigolds to geraniums and fuschias. Sculptures of birds were placed in corners of the garden. They were elevated above large Grecian pots that were overrun by creepers. Nearby there was a large brass sculpture of a young boy with a ball in his right hand. I went up to it and when I was about to gently feel the clean-cut nose, I heard the voice of Tess.