Dawn - The conclusion

20/03/2008 by Uncle.

Gina too was pretty contrite but a little more guarded than her step sister.  It was obvious that Fiona was not happy at what Gina and the BIL had done to Dawn and found it hard to come to terms with their calculated and heartless duping of her in an effort to get her to produce more material.

The BIL was not present.  Apart from his broken fingers and dislocated ankle the two sisters felt it better that he should be excluded.  I haven’t seen much of him since Peterborough and don’t suppose I will have much cause to.  He hasn’t really had much to do with his children since the split which is a shame.  That may change when he gets over his mid life crisis and bucks up.

Jon the sort of ex husband of Fiona was present.  He was there to look after Fiona’s interests and he did just that.  He was firm but fair, but was left in doubt that he had met a superior adversary in Dawn.  He kept quiet about his role in the affair and it was never mentioned that he had paid Gina and the BIL off on the day I saw them in the Peterborough.  I decided to keep quiet as it was worth keeping this bit of black on him up our sleeves just in case we needed it.

An agreement was reached and Dawn was actually given the position of consultant contracts lawyer to Fiona as a way of rationalising the whole sorry saga.

Dawns kids took the news of their parents split with resignation.  It would seem that being the child of divorced couple is the norm now rather than the exception, which is a sad state of affairs.  Affairs gedditt- affairs- divorce- 0h please your selves.

L and Dawn have become very close and have done a lot of girly things together.  In fact L has been down to stay with Dawn and to help with the kids while I was away on a couple of jobs.

All in all a right sorry saga but I still maintain that whilst this internet and blogging thing is OK, but one cannot let it take over your life, if you do, you will loose touch with reality and those around you.  When that happens your life will start to come apart.

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Dawn 8 - Stranger Than Fiction

12/03/2008 by Uncle.

The girl on reception that had checked in the BIL had gone off somewhere and another rather pretty blond girl had taken her place.  I reckon she was about 19 or 20.  I walked quickly up to the counter and in a breathless voice gave my BILs name and said I was in room 212 and that I had checked in about half an hour ago but had managed to shut my key in the room.  Could she really help me out as I was late for a meeting and give me another key. I gave her my best smile and my deadliest gamma death stare at the same time.  She blushed and stammered and then said certainly sir in a very heavy Eastern accent.  She handed me the card key, I smiled and walked quickly to the lift.

Second floor.

Hotel quiet.

Dead quiet.

silent foot fall.

212.

Muted voices in the room.

Card key slips into the slot.

Red indicator goes green.

Handle down and I am into the room.

There was money and papers all over the place.  Not in a disorganised way but in piles.

Vinnie Jones time

“Hello Girls and boys, would you like to tell me what the fuck is going on here?”.

BIL Shot to his feet like he had had a cattle prod rammed up his arse and bleated “NORMAN”

Gina shot to her feet and shout “Who are you, what are you doing, how dare you, call security, get out you beast” and then darted toward the phone.

She was quick, but I was quicker and then she went to hit me.  I grabbed the wrist of the flying hand turned it through an arc and she found her self on the floor enjoying a home office approved hold known in the trade as a flying angel.

I continued mode a la Vinnie

“I think my Brother in law was in the process of doing the introductions when you decided to try to give me a slap” I applied the pressure to her hand ever so slightly so she winced.  “No manners some people”.

“Let go of me it hurts” she gasped

“Its meant to” I said wittily,  rapidly trying to work out what was going on.  “I tell you what Gina, I’ll let go of your hand providing you promise to be a good little Dee, but one wrong move and I’ll rip off your arm and beat you to death with the bleeding stump, do I make myself clear”

She didn’t say yes but she did say “Dee, how?”

I let go of her hand and she whisked it towards her and sat on the floor rubbing her hand and wrist.

BIL looked at wide eyed and mouth open like a friggin goldfish in a bowl.  It got too much for me and it was certainly too much for Gina who snapped “Oh for God’s sake shut your mouth and say something will you.  Who is this person?”  The word “person” was spat out, as if she was only grudgingly acknowledged that I was a member of the human race.

BIL opened and shut his mouth and then croaked “Its Norman, he is my Bother in Law”

“Oh fuck You’re Dawns brother” she suddenly looked frightened “I didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did” she stammered

“No dont, no..” Said BIL holding up his hand and walking across the room.

I turned and faced him and pointed at him with my right hand

“Shut up shit head, I want to hear what she has to say and if you interrupt again I will remind you in no uncertain terms just how rude it is to interrupt.  Do I make myself understood?”.

“Are you going to take that?” asked Gina in disbelief

“Yes he makes living fighting wars and killing people.  He would kill us and know we were dead before we did,  so yes I am going to take it  and I am going to listen to him and if you have any sense, you will do the same thing”  His voice was getting shrill towards the end of his little speech and he was clearly not a happy chap.

“So we’re cool then?” I asked

He nodded. and then said “Why are you here Norman?”

I laughed and said “Well, you know its funny you should say that, because I was just about to ask you exactly the same question”

There was silence and they looked at each other

“Right then, why don’t we all start by getting nice comfy in this hotel room.  Lets all sit down and you can tell me what the fucks being going on and then we can have a nice cup of tea and be pals”

They sat, but they didn’t exactly start spilling the beans and I got the feeling that they didn’t feel too paly towards me.

After a painful silence I said “Ok so let me ask a few simple questions to get this session going shall I? Lets start with how do you know each other?

“Uni” they said together.

“Ah yes good old Bangor, is that where you met Alan as well?”

“Yes” she said slowly, “How did you..”

I held up my hand.

They say confession is good for the soul and maybe they are right, but it is also good for making what seems like a very complex situation very simple.  I was tired of all this poncing about when suddenly the dam burst.  I would have thought it was going to be him, but it was GIna.  I think she had just had enough.

“We all met at Bangor.  I was going out with BIL and Alan was sort of going out with Dawn.  Fiona is my step sister and she was a year above me.  We all went to France fruit picking one summer.  It was all very “studenty” ( she did that quotation mark thingy with her fingers) we lived in a real gite, an old sort of barn and had barbies and drank cheap wine smoked pot and ate bread and cheese.  Oh we read Satre, Pagnol and other great stuff some of us wrote poetry and started that ground breaking novel. All very bohemian” she said with a wry smile. “It was sunny and we were bright young things who were going to change the world.  We were tanned, fit and all in love or so we thought.”

“So what happened?”

“He fell in love with Dawn and on the rebound I fucked Alan.  He was very clever was Alan, a professional bull shitter and destined to be a carer academic, he had no intention of dirtying his hands in the real world.  He came from a very good family.  Talk of yachts, well connected friends and family not to mention the paintings they owned, but as I was to find out later it was all in the past tense. In reality nobody in his family had ever really worked or done anything and Alan was no different.  He was spoilt, but he knew people and the system and so he always had money and drink.”

She took a big breath “Fiona left uni and went into publishing and a few years later her first book was published.  Initially everyone said she had used her position to get herself published, but when they read the book everyone thought it very good and so it no surprise that she sold well.  Things hadn’t gone so well for me and so when our parents died I got the house.  It was really Fiona’s, but she didn’t need it but didn’t want to sell it either.  Alan didn’t really have a pot to piss in but he was full of bull and managed to persuade some old friend of the family to give him a seat at the university at XXXXXXXXX and so we moved to Peterborough.  How very suburban in comparison to those halcyon days in France”

“But you work for Fiona and her publishers don’t you?” I asked

“Yeess sort of” she said hesitantly and then sighed.  “She asked me to help with her admin and research.  There wasn’t much to it really and then Fee dried.  She was suffering from “writers block” - she did the finger thingy again.  Fee had told me that the stuff she had published was from our summer in France with a bit of padding here and there and I assumed that it was her stuff.  Then it really got to her and she was very depressed.  Suicidal.  I love my sister and she has been wonderful to me.  I was seven when my dad died and only eight and a bit when my mum decided to marry Fees dad.  My dad was everything to me and I thought he was everything to my mum.  I think he was, but I didn’t understand the adult world.  In books you get wicked step sisters, but I got an angel.  She used to take me to see my dads parents and to his grave and never told me not to be baby when I would wet the bed or start crying because I missed him.  To see her falling apart was more than I could stand.  I took her back to France in the hope it might jog her out of her black hole.  If anything it seemed to make her worse.  Then one day, out of the blue she told me how one day when we were due to leave France she had picked up all the note books that were lying around the gite.  It was just before we went back to uni and she put them in her rucksack.  When we got home she forgot about them until several months later when she read Dawns stuff and was just blown away by it.  To cut along story short -she gave a little snort at the little joke-She did a bit of padding out here and there but her books were all written by Dawn during our time in France, and that’s why she couldn’t write anymore.  It was Dawns material.”

“Dawn?” I said incredulously “Wrote”

“Oh yes” they said together

“Books”

They nodded and Gina said “Not only was her stuff bestseller material but she had produced enough to produce four books.  That is some going”

“Well I’ll be” I said “So what’s all that got to do with now and where does Dee come into it?”

To my surprise BIL started to yak ” There was reunion, you know one of these Friends Reunited things and I was contacted by Gina and Alan.  I didn’t know about Fiona then.  Dawn didn’t want to go and in fact was really anti me going.  We hadn’t been getting on well and I had my suspicions that she was in love with someone else, well put it this way she wasn’t in love with me.  Anyway we had a huge fight and I ended up going on my own.  We all met up again” he pointed at Gina “And it was like all those years hadn’t happened.  We spent the weekend together and it was like we were back before we went to France.”

“I have to be honest” Said Gina ” I never forgave Dawn for taking him away from me and I was so angry at how she treated him like dirt when she had him,  that I saw a perfect way of getting my revenge and our little Emily Bronte to put pen to paper. I started a blog sort of based on something she, Dawn that is had written.” She pointed at the BIL “He would leave it up on the Pc at home and set it as a default page on his web browser and surruptiously got Dawn to read it and then to comment and ultimately correspond with Dee

“But who is Dee, does she exist” I persisted

“Ah yes, well you see about four of us girlies had a bit of a drunken lesbian romp after a party here one summer.  I think we were in our first year, I cant remember, it was all a bit of a laugh really, not a real serious thing just a bit of kiss and  fondle and touching in the shower together.  One of the girls had been at school with me and had gone to Oxford and was called Dee.  She and Dawn really hit it off and they stayed in touch for quite awhile.  We found out and used to tease Dawn about it but then she got really pissed off with us and we dropped it.  It must have been her legal studies eating away at her sense of humour.  So  I decided to model my blog on Dee as I thought she would be now.  It was a simple as that and she took the bait and started writing to Dee.  She never came out and asked “Are you THE Dee?” but it was obvious she remembered Dee and still had feelings.  I just fuelled that part of the  inspirational fire and he did his bit by making Dawn want and need Dee more and boy did we her fire burn.  We have enough material for a trilogy of books and some short stories”

“Have you indeed” I said

They looked a very happy pair as they nodded without even realising they were doing it. “Fee has finished the first book and that has just come from final editing there is an advance on the other two PLUS film rights.” Gina gloated.

“Well that’s OK then” I said “But erm I have three other questions.  Number one is where the fuck does Alan fit into this little love triangle number two is who was the other bloke you picked up in  Bourne and lastly what about all this money that’s lying around”

“Oh well number one is easy.  Alan has been sleeping with female students for years.  I let him get on with that and in exchange he lets me have the man I really love and we have a happy family setup, no hang ups” She beamed at me as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“And the other bloke and the money” I prompted

“That’s Jon,  Fiona’s husband.”

“I thought they were divorced”

“Well yes, they have divorced for some kind of legal or financial reason.  He deals with the financial side of Fees writing.  He negotiates the film rights and contracts etc.  He was bringing us our cut of the first book and the advance of the second two” said BIL. “Cash” he added just in case I hadn’t worked that out for myself.  There was a lot of wedge.

I looked at the two love birds, the money and then out of the window.  I suppose I knew more or less all I wanted to know, but know the question was what to do about it. On the one hand Dawn had been a right pain at times and could be really unpleasant.  However that didn’t change the fact that in the first instance Fee had originally nicked Dawn’s material.  The naughtiness was compounded by the fact that Gina and the BIL had deliberately set out to get Dawn to write and in the process had fucked around with her emotions and mental health.  I reckoned that Gina and the BIL were worse and Fiona.  I also noticed that the dastardly duo skipped over the little matter of the threatening to blackmail Dawn.  I wasn’t bothered about the fact that the BIL was over the side with Gina that was not my problem and would come out in the wash.  My big consideration was the effect all this would have on his kids.  All in all I decided what was done was done and I saw no reason why anyone should rock the boat too much, after all these books were a nice little earner.

Silence.

“So then killer what are you going to tell your sister?” asked Gina.

“Nothing, but my client will be very interested in what you have told me” I said

“Client?  you didn’t say anything about a client, I thought Dawn was your sister” she said

“Ah no, you see you got the wrong end of the stick there.  My wife was his sister” I said nodding at BIL ” My Client is his wife”

I stood up and they followed.  “What are you gong to do?” asked BIL.

“I think you mean what are we going to do.  First off there are going to be some changes which will include Dawn getting a suitable payment for the original material and a financial settlement for the most recent stuff.”

“What if we dont agree” said the BIL

“I will expose you two as blackmailers and Fiona as a fraud and a thief”

“You can’t do that” exploded GIna

“Why not?” I asked

“We’ll fight you in the courts” said the BIL

“Oh really and you think the publishers will be happy to see their name in the papers.  I dont think so pal”

“So what happens right now” asked Gina after a few seconds stony silence.

“Well as I said that really depends on how you want to play things, but I will start by having a few quid from this pile here for my time and expenses as a result of your little jape” as I picked up two packs of fifty pound notes ” Plus an initial ex gratia payment  for my client as a good will gesture on your part plus some money to take his kids away on holiday” I picked up another 3 packs of money and put them in my pocket

“But its ours” he protested flecks of spit shot from his mouth

I looked him in the eyes and saw a greedy forty something sado.

“Look shag Do yourself and everyone else a favour, don’t be an arse all your life take a day off”

I went to leave the room and he stood in front of me and blocked my way.

“Move”

“Not until you give us our money back”

“Its not yours. I have already told you that you that we can either come to a nice little business arrangement or  be an arse which will me we expose Fiona as a fraud and you two as blackmailers.  I think the sensible approach for all concerned is to negotiation a reasonable agreement, but if you don’t want to do that then that’s up to you”

I really didn’t expect him to punch me in the face, but he did and he did it with surprising force.  My  nose broke and although not the fist time it still hurt and blood cascaded and my eyes filled with tears (cos I am sensitive like).  I staggered backwards caught completely off guard and a second blow blow hit my cheek.  I heard the sound of breaking bone - his hand not my face.  I got my act together and unable to hit me he directed a kick to my nuts.  I blocked the kick and grabbed his foot and yanked it upwards with considerable force.  His leg went up and his head went back and as he did so I twisted the foot inwards and round with both hands.  He howled in pain as I either dislocated or broke his ankle. I didn’t know which and to be honest I didn’t much care.  He hit the floor like a sack of spuds moaning.  At this point in an unprovoked attack II would normally have stamped on his face, however we are family and I could see this causing problem the next time we had lunch at his mothers.  I dropped to one knee and grabbed him by the hair at the side of his head instead and pulled.  You know the hair just in front of the ears - the old school masters hold.  I then spoke unto him in words of one syllabub which even a tosser like him would understand.  I prevailed upon him to see reason and not to continue in this foolish act or the hand of the Norm would smite him down.  Permanently.

I stood up and as I did so he made a sudden movement with his right arm and attempted to grab my leg.  I stamped on the fingers of his injured hand and kept my weight there.  He squealed and convulsed in pain and brought his knees up into a sort of foetal position and gasped for breath.  His other arm flayed around wildly and he yelled.

“What is your problem, which bit of wise don’t you understand”  I applied more pressure to his hand “Just stop trying to fight me please” He whimpered.  Great blobs of blood dropped from my nose on to his face and shirt.  He squirmed and tried to block the blood falling on him.

My face was throbbing and my cheek didn’t feel so great either.

“I wouldn’t be bleeding over you if you hadn’t decided to whack me.  You really should have taken your own advice and been sensible shouldn’t you.  You’re greedy that’s what your problem is.  Well I have just upped my fees and will takes some extra to cover the dry cleaning”  I leaned over  and took immediate payment by way of another pack of fifties from a bundle on the dressing table.  I took my foot off his fingers and he pulled his hand to him and nursed his injured fingers.

More blood plopped on to the BIL.

I picked up the receiver and dialled reception.

“This is MrXXXX in room 212.  My friend Uncle Norman will be leaving this afternoon and I would like his bill adding to my account please.”

She confirmed that the room for 327 would be added to 212 and I thanked her.  I put the receiver down.

Gina was crying and looked at me. “Sorry” she said

“Apology accepted.  Now then I suggest you two get your act together and clean up in here and then take him to A&E. We will talk tomorrow when you are both ready to be sensible”

“How will we contact you?” she said

“Gina you’re forgetting that if you shack up with him that we will be the next best thing to family. I know where you two are and Rambo here knows where I live, but if you like I will send a couple of my men to pick Fiona up.”

“What if she refuses to go with them” I smiled a friendly bloody smile whish I suspect wasn’t too friendly at all “Oh she’ll go alright,  they are ever so persuasive and charming and she wont really have much say in the matter.”

she looked alarmed.

“No please don’t do that, I’ll speak to her and explain what has happened.  Its better coming from me after all this bit of the problem has been caused by me.”

“Norman” she said quietly looking at the floor “I am sorry this has happened”

“So am I chicken”

“Do you think we can start again on a better foot next time we meet?”

“I don’t see why not provided you two act sensibly”

She then stood up and held out her hand I took it and we shook hands.  She managed a sort of smile.  I stepped over the BIL and grabbed a towel from the bathroom for my nose.

“You can see he tripped on the bed clothes”  before heading to my room.

I changed and cleaned myself up, it was time to go home.

It had been a very long and weird week.  One of the weirdest I have ever had and I had had enough.

I wanted a bath a curry and several Cobras but more than anything I wanted a little Estonian minx.

I missed L.

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Dawn 7 - Newark

10/03/2008 by Uncle.

Having had an early night and a good kip I  was up at sparrows fart and determined to sort out this load of old tosh once and for all.  Apart from anything else, I was getting paid and its all very well and good being charitable but I had a shed load of work to sort out as it was.

I reckoned that our lady would probably head off sometime just after  8 ish to take the kids to school.  This would give me time for a fat boys breakfast before getting out and about and being on the ground in time for her school run.  I checked my GPS and saw that the tracker was still in the same road and so presumably so was my suspects car.  Breakfast called.

I had a good breakfast and ambled back to my room well in time to get my lucky bag and clean my teeth and it was only by pure luck that I took a cursory glance showed that the tracker was moving.

Bollocks.

My original plan had been to sit up on the car, watch our woman and follow her off.  That plan was not going to happen.

I hot footed it down to my hire car and got myself sorted out and then took stock of which way the vehicle was going. I don’t know Peterborough apart from the fact it had a pretty reasonable public golf course with some bloody deep bunkers-not far from the hotel actually.  I have to say that knowing there is a golf course with som  deep bunkers aint exactly what I would call local knowledge,  so I was at a bit of a disadvantage but the car seemed to be heading North.  I suppose most people would leave Peterborough by the A47 and then take the A1 but the A15 also goes North and with traffic and all that, oh deary me which way to go.  Decisions decisions.  I waited and the tracker stuck to the A15.  I would go with that.  Mind you I was assuming that our woman was driving the car, so I could be on a right old wild goose chase.   Fuck it head for the A15 and toe it and just hope that I had the right target in the car.

The day had not started well, but I got a break and found myself whizzing along the A15 and not far behind my target.  I suppose we had been going about 20 minutes or so when the I saw that the tracker had stopped moving and the car was parked up in a place called Bourne.  I figured this was as good a time and place to make a visual confirmation that I was following the right person.  Then I had it insight, the Chrysler Voyager was parked outside a hotel called the Angel.

Bourne is Ok in a sort of something and nothing sort of way, but the hotel was a charming old coaching inn by the looks of things.  I made a mental note that I might bring L up here on a weekend away.  I digress. I managed to park up so I could see the car, but because of the dark glass I couldn’t see if anyone was in there.  I waited about 30 minutes and then bingo out came Gina and two blokes.  One I recognised from a photo on Ginas blog as being her husband but the other was somebody I did not remember seeing before.  They got to the car and after a few minutes of what looked like agitated almost aggressive confrontational yak they got into the car and drove off.

We left Bourne and drove along the A151 I think it was before eventually getting on to the A1.  We trundled along the A1 and eventually they left the A1 and drove into the inspiring town of Newark.

Newark is the only town in the Uk which is an anagram of wanker.

They parked up in the station car park and Gina got out of the car.  With no better plan I decided to stretch my legs and follow her.  She walked very purposefully into the entrance.  I sauntered after her.  Newark Northgate is not Kings Cross and so it was not hard to keep my girl in sight, but  by the same token if she was surveillance conscious then it would be a bit of a nightmare.  On my side was the fact that she didn’t know me and had no real reason to pay me any attention.  I don’t know why, but for some reason I suddenly had bad vibes and decided not to risk being burnt by following her into the station and so stopped dead in my tracks and went briskly back to my car to see what was what.

Hpow does sixth sense work?  I am fucked if I know but if I had a quid for every time I had that feeling I would be a wealth man.  I would be even richer and less damaged if I had a quid for every time I had ignored that gut feeling and being wrong.  Research shows that a gut feeling is 95% right.  Ignore that gut feeling at your peril.  That goes for wind as well by the way!

I had just got into my car when Gina came out of the station with another bloke carrying a black brief case.  Actually it wasn’t just another bloke, it was my brother in law, Dawns husband.

The little Newark.

In a blink of an eye a lot of things became clearer.  It didn’t answer any the questions, but it sort of gave things a degree of perspective.

The Chrysler headed back towards the A1 and this time whoever was driving did not hang around, but showed a very clean pair of heels.  The journey back to Peterborough was quick.  This was just another quirky day in what so far had been a very very odd week.

It didn’t get any better when they drove into the car park of the Holiday Inn where I was staying.  Actually in the long run this turned out to be a real result.  I had a reason to be there ie I was actually a guest.

Gina and the BIL got out of the car and went into the hotel.  I followed, but quite what I thought I was going to do I don’t know.  I was in a shit or bust situation and so had no option but to play it off the cuff.  Gina and the BIL were very comfortable with each other and obviously knew each other very well judging by how tactile they were.  They checked in and got a key and whilst he was filling in a form or something Gina  moved away from the desk, got out her mobile and rang somebody.  The conversation was short, very short and I reckoned it was to her pals outside to say which room they were in.  Gina and BIL went to the lift and headed up to the room.  The indicator showed the second floor.  I called the lift and went to the second floor.

The lift opened onto a sort of sitting area.  There was a door giving access to the stairs just nearby so just like in those corny films I ducked in there. A few minutes later I heard the lift arrive and the sound of mens voices.  I needed to be fairly close to them to clock which room they were going to.  As I said earlier, I had no reason to believe they knew who I was or that they were under surveillance,  so I could afford to be fairly brazen in my approach.  I walked just behind them as one does in hotels and when they stopped and knocked at a door I carried on past at the same speed, clocking the door number- 212- in the process.   I heard the door open then close but I carried on through a set of fire doors without looking back.

So Gina and her old man have driven from Peterborough to Bourne to pick up one bloke and then to Newark to get another, who as it happened turned out to be my Brother in Law before driving back to Peterborough.

Why not get everyone to meet in Peterborough in the first place?

What was going on?

I was fairly sure they weren’t all in that hotel room shagging, but I might be wrong.

I decided to head back down stairs to the public area and to keep an eye on who left from there.

I had only been downstairs for about 15 minutes when Gina’s husband and the bloke they had picked up from Bourne emerged from the lift.  They looked very pleased with life and were smiling and talking animatedly as they headed ou to the Chrysler.  They got in and drove off.  I waited.

I waited a while and now I wasn’t so sure that the two that were left in the hotel room weren’t shagging.

Bollocks to this, it was time to grab the thistle by the thorns, or in this case the brother in law by the throat.

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Dawn 6-Cyber love

05/03/2008 by Uncle.

Maybe I am just a middle aged old fart, but I have to be honest and say I just cannot see how people fall in love over the internet. I am even more perplexed by cyber sex. Still, my view doesn’t matter, the fact is there are lots of people from all levels of society who get involved in this. On the face of it they are intelligent normal people, but for some reason this cyber life just takes over and it seems that it becomes more real than real life. If you know anyone like this try telling them that they have a problem and they will just not see it.

Fortunately for Dawn she had pulled out of the cyber life when she suddenly realised she was being set up to be blackmailed.

Maybe it was love or maybe it was her lawyers brain, but she had kept all the emails that had passed between her and “Dee”, plus she had an address in Peterborough where Dee had received things sent by Dawn. Dawn was reluctant to say what things, and I didn’t press her, but I had sneaking suspicion they would cause embarrassment at respectable dinner parties.

I wasn’t really sure how I was going to play this job, so I started by checking the electoral roll for the address in Peterborough and this showed the following people

Alan W
Gina W
Fiona P
Jon P

You will not be surpised to hear that there was nobody called Dee at the address or even in the same street.

I had read all the emails between Dawn and Dee for two reasons. The first was voyeuristic curiosity to try to get some insight into what people get from these internet relationships, and the second was that somewhere Dee will have told a truth or half truth about herself which would help me find out what she was up to.

In several emails, Dee referred to when she had lived and worked at Bangor University in North Wales. She also said that she was the head mistress of a private girls school and that she had had a lesbian relationship with another woman called Fee.

Dawn had told me that the blog that Dee had written was no longer in existence, but a rummage around Google turned up a blog by a woman called Gina living in Peterborough. Bearing in mind we had a Gina registered at the address Dee had received stuff at I decided to take a looksey at Gina’s blog.

She had three kids and was married to a bloke called Alan who it emerged worked in higher education. There were some pictures of the house they apparently lived in and a number of references to having lived in Bangor North Wales before relocating to Peterborough. Well that’s a coincidence if ever I saw one.

There was a load of stuff on this blog about her kids and friends, holidays etc and although well written, it was not exactly earth shattering, but I felt that this Gina was our girl Dee. I read the whole damned blog and there were quite a few photos of people and places. There weren’t many clues as to who the pictures were of but a few of the same woman gave me reason to believe that she was Gina. She was in her early forties and very striking, with very nice teeth. I found another photo which was of Gina at a school fete, but for some reason and as my mouse went over the picture a tag popped up saying “Dee something or other jpg”. What a break. I saved the picture and printed it off. I bet you a tenner to an an once of shit this was our girl?.

I started researching the occupants of the address. It was a long weary process, but then this sort of stuff always is, but as I dug I discovered the following interesting things.

An Alan W used to work at Bangor University and now works at another University in the Eastern Counties.

A Gina W had also worked at Bangor and had been responsible for administration of some research studentship and is mentioned in a book that Alan Walker has written.

In her emails Dee mentioned a number other people by name, but there were four in particular who seemed to be more than just good friends and with whom she had socialised a lot. and in one instance, had a holiday romance with. I have to say that she went into such explicit details that I got a stiff neck just reading about the positions and where they had done what. After a cold shower I pursued the university connection and and blow me down there were people of these names connected to Bangor.

When I went back to the blog I had found that this Gina also mentioned people with the same first names as Dee. It could be a coincidence but I didn’t think so.

And then I found something that caused me concern which was about Fiona and Jon. There is top selling author called Fiona P who until recently was married to a Jon (with no H). However she was supposed to live in Dorset BUT after some more ferreting around, would you Adam and Eve it, she originally came from guess where…Yep Peterborough.

There were quite a few pictures of Fiona P on the net and then I found one which I knew I had seen on GInas blog. I double checked and it was the same photo. Alright it did not prove much, but I was fairly sure there was a connection between Fiona P and Gina. Way to go Sherlock.

I rang Fiona’s Publishers and told them that I was “freelance” and wanted to speak to Fiona about a project I was working on. I was directed to her research assistant Gina W and they gave me her telephone number.

As luck would have it, she was not ex directory and the telephone number came back to the address in Peterborough I had been given by Dawn.

I was even more convinced that Dee and Gina were the same person. What I did not understand was the headmistress bit and how Dee apparently knew Simon the BIL well enough to blackmail Dawn about their relationship. That did not quite fit together and was just too out on a limb.

As I said earlier I was not really sure what was going on here not how I should play it. I had more or less exhausted the desk bound research I could do and I didn’t want to spend ages on this if I could avoid it, so I decided there and then that there was nothing for it I would have to head to Peterborough and have a little look at Gina.

I sorted myself with a room at the holiday Inn which was advertised as 5 minutes from the ton centre and a hire car from the station. The car was an outrageous price and my comments about only wanting to hire it and not buy it fell on deaf ears.

I headed off to Kings Cross and got a train to Peterborough. Instead of getting my car and going to the hotel I got a taxi to Gina’s street and then went by foot to have a look at the place. The house was a sort of Victorian/Georgian Semi on three floors. It was quite big and although homely looking it was slightly shabby and looked as if the owners weren’t quite on top of looking after it. More importantly it was the one that had been in some of the photos on Ginas blog.

It was just before 4pm and a Black Chrysler Voyager pulled up and Gina got out with three kids. She was a fairly attractive woman. Not pretty pretty or skinny, but she had an air of confidence and a certain sexuality that made her look smug. She was well dressed and gave off an air of affluence which did not go with state of the house. I decided almost immediately that I did not like this lady. My gut told me she was clever and dangerous.

I did not want to start a long street street surveillance tonight so I had a rummaged through my kit bag and found a wireless vehicle tracker. I walked towards the car and stopped to tie my shoe lace and quickly popped the tracker underneath the car. That would be it for the day, time to sort the car and hotel. I found a pub and rang for a mini cab which took me back to the station where I got my hire car and then went to the hotel.

A couple of beers and some grub before an early night so that tomorrow I would be ready to see what Gina was all about.

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War Child

19/02/2008 by Uncle.

 

War Child works with children affected by war in Afghanistan, Iraq, Democratic Republic of Congo and Uganda. Our work with former child soldiers, children in prison and children living and working on the streets gives them support, protection and opportunities. To make sure we provide them with what they need we involve them directly in all our decision making.

If you don’t think there is a need for charities like this then I would ask that you read my post about Joseph

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Italian Job 10 - Float like a Butterfly….

14/02/2008 by Uncle.

I knew how the Italian judges assistant felt, because I felt the same way about this job.

What had started out as a straight forward nice little earner had developed into a right old can of worms.  I have to admit to being intrigued by this latest twist in the tale, but by the same token there was also a very real danger of being fingered for the old blokes death by some slimy legal git trying to make a name for himself.

I figured it was best to come clean and tell him all I knew about the dear departed Mr Hawthorn.  The legal Italian listened in silence.

“This just makes matters worse

What I need was a plausible and practical solution to bring this rather unfortunate episode to a mutually satisfactory conclusion.  It occurred to me that f I needed such a solution then so did the judge.

As we spoke a lazy wasp or bee droned around me.  I paid it little attention until the fucker stung me.

“Oww you little bastard” I said quite loudly.

“What did you call me?” said the Italian indignantly.

“sorry, not you, I was stung by a bee or wasp”

Fortunately I apart from them hurting I have no reaction to these things, though of course thousands of people do.  In fact I had a colleague who was stung while on patrol in Northern Ireland who died of anaphylactic shock.

At that point if I was a cartoon character a a light bulb would have come on over my head.

“Yess” I exclaimed

“Are you all right signor?” asked the Italian

“A bee sting!” I said out loud half by way of explanation and half in a flash of inspiration

“Si, che cosa?” said the Italian

“I have been stung by a bee” I explained

“Yes senior you said.  That hurts and can be very dangerous” said the Italian  with what I thought was quite an amount of concern. “Bee stings can be fatal and we have some bees here in Roma with a very toxic sting”.

“Yes I know I had a colleague who died from a bee sting” I said with more enthusiasm than may have sounded decent.

“So why you say yes?” He said

“Could it be possible that this old man Mr Hawthorn was stung by a bee?” I said slowly

“No no no, de tests say poison probably German!” exclaimed the Italian

“The tests say poison but they say probably German but not definitely” I said “Look I didn’t kill Hawthorn or whoever he was and you know that.  Whether you admit this to me or not now doesn’t matter, but what it is very important because instead of dealing with a murder you are dealing with a suicide”

“I cannot a commenta on whether it is se murder or de suicide” He said all legally.

“No of course not, but you have not said you don’t believe me” I pressed “And if you were so sure you would have not let me go or leave Italy no matter how flash the lawyer”

“So?”

“Look Signor, Mister Hawthorn was an old man and he was at the end of his life.  As it is we don’t really know who or what he really was.  He told me a story about being an American but that could have been a load of bollo… lies.  He could have been Italian, German, American or just plain old English Mr Hawthorn.  We just dont know and to be honest at this stage does it really matter.”

“A man is dead nonetheless” said the Italian all righteously

“Yes I accept that, and I also accept it is mysterious but it is not really suspicious is it?  Sure we  could all spend some time investigating aspects of his story and I have no doubt we could verify some of what he said, but what is it really going to achieve?  The only difference it would make is to his family. What do they know of his death?”

“We have said that he died suddenly and that we are establishing de cause of death.” He said very legally again.

“OK so there has been no talk of murder or suicide” I said seeing a light at the end of the tunnel

“No there haza not a” he said slowly

“So from what you said earlier if it was said he died more naturally…., I mean your tests are not entirely conclusive yet, so there could be an error and if an old man in a weak condition had …”

“Been stung by a bee ” Interrupted the legal beagle

“And died as a result of ..” I continued

“Ze toxic shock” He said slowly and his voice told me that he was warming to the idea

“Exactly” I concluded

Unfortunately for me he cooled to the idea as quickly as he had seemingly warmed to it “Yes I suppose we could, but oh I donta know zat I really lika dis” he said slowly and with reservation.

Despite this little set back he was taking the bait despite his reservations.

The best form of defence is attack and I felt this was the time to turn the tables on the Italian authorities.

“Look signor I am giving you a way out here”

“Yo are giving me away out, I dont a understanda” He sounded puzzled and concerned I think he almost laughed.

“Well” I continued  “You have an awkward case that could be very embarrassing for a lot of people.  Technically he died at the time of an Italian police operation so he died in police cusotdy and the Police are responsible for his death”

The lawyer interrupted me “That is ridiculous”

“Is it, if you want to know how much trouble and expense a foreigner dying because of the Police can cause, why don’t you ring the Police commissioner in London, I am sure he will be more than happy to fill you in.”

“But zat is not an issue here” He protested.

“Look at it this way.  Hawthorn was alive when I left him and I will testify to that.  Now bearing in mind the little fracas with your officers in the house I could not have been with him when he died.  However when I came back he was surrounded by police and was dead.  You now ring me and tell me he died as a result of poison.  As far as I know Mr Hawthorn had no reason to kill himself, so I think the Italian police must have poisoned him” I said with theatrical force and emphasis.

Rumpole of the Bailey eat your friggin heart out.

“That just is not a true” He exclaimed

“Isn’t it, prove it then”

Silence

“Go on” I said “Prove it is not true.  I left him alive and when I came back to him he was dead from poison and surrounded by the police.”

“Well you know I cant prove it at a de moment” He protested”And it is not appropiate for me to comment any further on this”

“What other explanation do you have for this innocent old man’s death at the time the police arrived.  How else could an apparently healthy old man with a comfortable lifestyle, loving family and distinguished life behind him die in police custody and from some kind of toxic reaction at that”

There was silence

“Well signor how do you think Mr Hawthorn died?”

“A bee sting maybe?” he suggested

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Dawn 5/Hawthorn Again - The weirdness Continues

13/02/2008 by Uncle.

After my somewhat bizarre night I did not really sleep very well. The bit I could not rationalise was how the “Other” Woman knew the BIL.

Before we parted company I went over a few things and found that Dawn actually had an address for this woman in Peterborough. Apparently Dawn had sent gifts to her. It also transpired that she had seen her on a webcast, although she was very hesitant to admit this and I suspect the web cam thing had been of what you might call an “intimate” nature.

Even so, an address is a very handy starting point.

I headed for home and was pleased to that L was waiting for me, although I must confess to having a mega guilt complex after the night at the hotel.

“I didn’t expect you till tonight” she said whilst kissing my face and neck.

“Oh why was that?” I asked

“Well Dawn rang and said she had a big problem and could she borrow you for the night. I said yes, but she had to promise to get you a good room in an nice hotel and to make sure you had a good meal and plenty to drink”

“Well she did that” I said

“I also told her she had to be gentle with you”

“What!”

“You know that she is mad in love with you” L said seriously.

“Madly” I corrected

“Mad, madly she is still in love with you” L said unabashed

“How do you know?” I asked

“How, how? Are you blind? Every time she look at you, she is like a puppy”

“Ahh but every time she talks to me she gets my goat” I retorted

L shrugged and smiled ” She is only upset with you because things worked out wrong for her.”

“How can you be so sure” I said more aggressively than I had intended

“I am a woman and I love you and……”

“And what?”

“She told me”

“She what?”

L laughed “Now you are blind and deaf, she told me”

I must have looked shocked.

“She rang me up when you were away and she was really upset and crying. I rang Cynthis and she went down to stay and look after the children and Dawn came here to stay with me. I looked after her we talked”

“How erm..what did errr…”

“Well you always say a curry and a few beers makes the world seem a brighter place, so I took her for a curry and a few beers. Actually it was a lot of beers and she teld me everything” I did not correct her error.

“Oh right I see” I said a little taken aback at the conspiracy.

“She told me all about this woman and her idiot husband and everything and I said “no point having a dog and being the hunter yourself” She beamed back at me “You are going to help her aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah of course if I can” I said

“If you can! of course you can and what are you going to do about her stupid husband?”

What indeed. However I had more pressing buisness with L and it did not concern my BIL.

Later that day I was pottering about and catching up with a few things when my mobile rang and a man with a thick Italian accent introduced himself as being an assistant to the judge examining the investigation into Hawthorns death. I hope you haven’t forgotten Hawthorn.

“Signor, the man dead in your car de Mister Hawthorn you say he was a de Engelesh”

“Yes that’s correct as I understand it”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” I said feeling a little uneasy

“Was he ever from or in Germany?”

“Not as far as I know, why do you ask?”

“Well you see signor Misder Hawthorn he died of a poisoning, but you see de poison was used by de Germans”

“The Germans, what Germans, What poison when, I am sorry I don’t understand, you will need to explain”

The man sighed and spoke more slowly and loudly as one does when trying to get something simple and obvious across to a foreigner. “Our tests show that he seems to have died of a poison de Germans used as de suicide in de war.”

“Oh I see” which I didn’t really

“Signor I am glad you see because I dont” Said the Italian “Why does an old Engelesha man hava de suicide pill of de German when he is Eneglesh and why and dis is de bigga question, why he taka it in your car?”

Why indeed. My little brain was racing to a rather nasty and possibly premature conclusion and consequently my actual response was louder than I intended “Fucked if I know” I said

“Me too signor” He sighed heavily “You know I hate a dis kind a case”

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Dawn 4 - Love on the Rocks

28/01/2008 by Uncle.

Hands up those of you who thought I had done or would do the dirty deed with Dawn?

Well you were wrong.  Tempted, oh yes, but I did not give in to temptation.  What a hero!

Flattered as I was I kept a level head (if you will excuse the expression) and very gently told her that she was very sexy and beautiful, but in these circumstances it would be very wrong.  If she wanted me to help her with her little problem I would have to maintain a professional distance so as to be objective.

She responded by saying she understood and immediately removed the rest of her clothes and got into bed and started to outline the problem.  I was done in and in need of some shut eye, so I got down to my boxers and tee shirt and trying hard to conceal my traitorous friend got into bed beside her.

She lay in the bed on her side and looked me.  She smiled and stroked the side of my face.  I smiled back but did not say anything.  She then started to tell me her story. As I mentioned before Dawn was some kind of International contracts lawyer and her story was articulate and without superfluous details or frills.

To cut a long story short, it would seem that the BIL had been spending a lot of time working late.  Initially this was genuine and fuelled by his desire to be richer than he is.  This came as a surprise, because although a bit prissy and always had a very flash jam jar and designer threads he has never struck me as being greedy.  I suppose they liked their Club Med Holidays and the like and they don’t come cheap, but even so I had not had him down as being so financially motivated..  This was only the first of several revelations about him that made me look at him in a different light.

The working late went from being occasional to the norm.  Then he started coming home smelling of drink, then this became semi pissed every now and very soon it was almost every night.  This sort of drinking is not good not matter how you looked at it, but bearing in mind he worked in London and they lived out on the Surrey/Berkshire borders meant he had a long way to drive was not the best idea.  Dawn by way of retaliation was getting stuck into the grog as well.  She stopped cooking his grub, which instead of getting his goat, just didn’t bother him.  He got home later and later, they both got more and more pissed.

Their sex life started to dwindle.  Jeez, what a shocker.

Apparently they had been an every other night couple with some very interesting deviations.  For the benefit of the more sensitive reader I will skip some of the details, but I have to say I was starting to look at both Dawn and the BIL in a very different light from before.

The sex stopped totally.  He would get home at about 10pm maybe later, sober enough to be coherent but pissed enough to be clumsy and have memory loss the next morning.  It would seem that they already had an extensive collection of sex toys already and she would wait till he came home and got into bed and then she would start using them on herself.  He would read his Andy McNab book and the doze off.

“You know” she said “I would use those big vibrators and imagine it was you and I wanted you so badly.  I always have, but by this stage the feeling of needing you was over whelming”  I wasn’t sure of the size she was talking about, but I had an inkling that reality would not match the plastic.  She went quite and then looked at me in a very odd way “When Alison died I thought that God had given me a break and that I could come and look after you and that would give the the opportunity to get you to fall in love with me” she laughed “You never even noticed me and in fact you became so distant from everyone that I could have sat on your face and I don’t think you would have noticed.”

I knew what she was saying, but I think even I would have noticed her sitting on my face.  Its the sort of thing one notices.

“I tried so hard, maybe too hard, because you just got more and more snappy with me”

I thought about this and recalled a few of the spats I had had with her over the last few years.  With horror I realised she was dead right.  At the time I thought she was just being a pain, when in reality she was trying to get closer to me rather than alienating me.

“I am very sorry” I said rather lamely “I….” she held a finger to my lips

“Don’t say anymore.  Sorry is enough and really I should have done things differently.  Anyway what’s done is done.  I became more and more lonely, Simon was obviously having an affair and my one love..” she gave me a playful dig in the ribs “Did not want me.  I contemplated suicide one day.  Actually it was for about 30 seconds, but it did cross my mind.  And then I started surfing the internet just killing time.  I found and  started reading a blog written by a woman called Dee.  I liked her style and started commenting and then we started exchanging emails”

“So how did that become an affair?” I asked

“To be honest I don’t know, it just happened.  We started communicating more and more by email and the emails became more and more…intimate, until we were having…” she tailed off.

“Sex by correspondence?” I offered.

Dawn laughed “Yes that’s it”

“So what’s the problem then?” I asked a little bemused

“Well, it would seem this woman is not who she says she is”

“So?”

“Well she knows a lot about me and I don’t know anything about her and then she emailed me one day about a week ago and said it was over and that she was not who she said she was”

“Right, so you broke up effectively, but you had never met is that right?” I said a little confused as to what the problem really was.

“No we never met” she confirmed

“And so you never had any actual physical contact”

“No we didn’t” she confirmed

“So what’s the problem” I asked

“She has tried to blackmail me”

“How”

“She says she will tell Simon everything if I don’t do as she asks” she said sounding genuinely worried and looking frightened.

“Fucking big deal, from what you say he wouldn’t give a toss”

“Well that’s the rub” she said slowly “I think she knows Simon, because she said something that only Simon and I would know about a client he was working on.  We don’t sit in total silence you know.  Despite the things I have said the weekends are civilized and we have not reached the point of open hostility in front of the kids.  Wes till function as a family during holidays and when the kids are around, so we do talk about things”

“What does she want from you?”

“Permission to use my emails in a book”

“Look Dawn,  I don’t see that you have a problem with this woman that cannot be controlled and possibly turned to your advantage.  lets be frank here you have not actually done anything with her have you? No physical contact at all let alone lesbian sex. To be honest  you would have more difficulty explaining being in bed naked with me to somebody than your relationship with her wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t blackmail would you, and the very fact that she has made the threat suggests to me that she has something up her sleeve”

She was not going to be persuaded there was nothing wrong.  The months of hitting the bottle, the break down of the marriage the sexual aspect of her relationship with this woman was all so inextricably connected that there was no way Dawn would accept there was not a problem.  I had a couple of ideas of how this could be resolved.  One was subtle and could actually make Dawn some money and the other was not subtle and would involve a couple of the lads.

“Ok” I said “Lets get this sorted, I will start on it asap for you, but you must trust me 100%”

“Do you think I would be lying here if I didn’t”

“No I suppose not” I admitted

She smiled and said “Thank you” and then kissed me.

“I am silly aren’t I” she said rather sadly

“No you’re not silly, you just want to be loved like everyone else.  The problem is that you have fallen in love with an insensitive, murderous, black hearted self centred bastard” I said

“But I love YOU!” she blurted

“I know, Who the hell did you think I was talking about”.

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Italian Job 9 / Dawn 3- Welcome Home

22/01/2008 by Uncle.

When I got through the customs and to the meet and greet area at Gatwick I was not prepared for what was to come. Regular readers will know that I have not had the best relationship with Dawn my Sister in Law. The feeling has been mutual. I didn’t like anything about her, especially her looks, as she was far to skinny for my cup of tea.

I was looking for Dawn when suddenly this babe threw her arms around my neck and kissed me on the lips. This might happen in films to the likes of Hugh Grant but it doesn’t happen in real life to Normans.

“I’ve missed you so much” she gushed kissing me again.

“Hughwughheerwugher” I said.

She hugged me and I tried not to dribble everywhere, because I knew that I must have looked like a basket case with , mouth open and not saying anything intelligible. It did not help that I was tired after being attacked, arrested and having my travelling companion op his clogs in my car. All in all, a long and somewhat arduous day. This warm and loving welcome from someone who I have shared a mutual loathing was just the icing on the cake.

I caught the words “room” and “Hilton” and although I understood them did not fully appreciate their context. The next thing we were in a double room in the Hilton and Dawn was passing me a scotch from the mini-bar. I never ever drink from the mini-bar in hotels (except in Eastern Europe where it is very cheap) as a matter of principal. I don’t have many but this is one of them.

Dawn was wearing what you would describe as a little black number and I could not get over how bloody good she looked - body wise that is. Her eyes and body language however were something else. The other thing is she was gushing conversation. Fuck me she was rabbiting away ten to the dozen.

She was on the brink.

I suggested we went to the restaurant and she agreed.

The food was good but the meal was surreal. She acted as if we were an item. Not just an item but a HOT item. She kept holding my hand and rubbing my leg near my Norman McMan stick and all that sort of malarkey. Now don’t get me wrong here, I am not adverse to woman rubbing my leg or my McMan stick, but this was Dawn who hated me. Having fed and watered I was ready to head upstairs to do the business, by which I mean find out what the fuck was going on.

We got into the room and she went into the bathroom and had a wee. I got rid of my jacket and shoes and lay on the bed. When she came in she was in a very fetching set of underwear. She came straight over and lay down on the bed and snuggled up to me. The panic bells were going and what I real wanted to do was to leap up and shout “WHAT’S GOING ON”. I didn’t of course.

I put my arm round her and said “This has been a great evening and you look fabulous, but to what do I owe this sudden change of fortune”.

“I love you.” she said in a very resigned way ” I have always loved, you but you were not available and when you were you never noticed me and when you did you didn’t like me”

“Only because I didn’t think you liked me at all” I said

“Idiot, it was self preservation thing all that..that back biting and sniping at you, why do you think I always sit opposite you at family dinners, it’s so I can look at you and imagine what it is like to be with you all the time”

“Actually I don’t think being with me all the time is probably that great” I said In all honesty.

“Maybe not, but I just wanted to be able to have you. Its because I couldn’t have you and because Simon isn’t interested in me really that I…..”

I pulled her close to me, not because I wanted to fuel her hope that I was available or right for her, but just to give her some comfort. Actually there is the small matter that she felt very nice as well if I am in entirely honest.

“What’s happened Dawn?”

I thought she was going to cry but she didn’t, she let out a big sigh and said “I love you and could have you. Simon doesn’t love me, he loves work and money and his PA. I was lonely and got more desperate and oh fuck Norman I have been a prize idiot. Do you think you could help your old arch enemy to get out of the shit?”

“You helped me today for which I have not said thank you yet”

I went to kiss her gently on the forehead but some how I missed and her lips got in the way. It was a brief gentle kiss but one charged with warmth and a love I had not noticed for so many year. I will never forget it.

“Of course I will help you but what’s the problem”

The tears I expected earlier now came flooding out

“I have had an affair for almost two years” she sobbed

“It happens” I said “I am sure we can sort that out”

“With a woman” she sobbed

“So what difference does that make?”

“On the internet, we were lovers and now she is going to blackmail me”

“Ah I see”

“Oh Norman I have ruined everything” she sighed again

“Nah probably not” I said in all honesty “You know, when you are up to you neck in alligators its hard to remember that the original objective was to drain the swamp”

She laughed and kissed my cheek “That’s why I love you” I was suddenly aware of her hand touching my Norman McMan stick. “I would like you to thank me properly for helping you”

“So I see”

Cue pictures of crashing waves and a magnificent sunset.

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Sitting Comfortably

18/01/2008 by Uncle.

I am very pleased to say that the second medico has done the biz with my arm and buttocks. Actually, that first sentence makes me sound like a member of the Lib Dems.  The point is that I am now able to sit in relative comfort and should be able to crack on with the last part of the Italian story in the next day or so.

On a work front Africa is still providing a lot of employment which maybe good news for arms deals and the like, but it seems as if the whole bloody continent is slipping into war.   To be honest the Kenyan problems are really small fry compared to what is going on in some places.  The humanitarian price is just off the scale.

Maybe I am just getting old or soft, but it is just a total and utter fucking disaster, and the big news in the British media is some stupid Scouse trout calling a teddy Mohammed.

Mind you, the Uk is providing plenty of work with ASBOs and yobs to sort out and all sorts of weird and wonderful little jobs.  Some are interesting and some are just plain daft.

I should be back in full swing next.

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