Not So Merry-Go-Round

8/9/2019 Not So Merry-Go-Round

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Dedication

To everyone who have been affected by violence even though youcalled out for help, there was none to be found.

How you must have longed for a TT to come at your rescue.

This book is a testimony that you will always be remembered, no

matter how difficult erasure has been, your ordeal will help you

grow stronger, so don’t feel ashamed, you were never at fault,

then Look Up!


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Copyright © Vincent Clarke

The right of Vincent Clarke to be identified as author of this work

has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the

publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims

for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British

Library.

ISBN 978 184963 868 5

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2015)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada Square

Canary WharfLondon

E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain


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Preface

Everyone possesses secrets buried in their pasts.

Secrets best left locked away where they belong. Simon wasno different, He vowed that his secrets would never be

revealed and he would take them with him to his grave, as he

rode this not so merry go round of life.


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Simon was home alone.

It was his choice, as he had told Nicola that he would beaway on business, so he just couldn’t visit her parents with her

this year. So he had taken the children, and had gone early that

morning to visit her parents.Bliss.

He lay in bed until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He wasn’t a man who loved his bed. Six hours wereusually as much as he could manage, but today, free from the

normal noises of the family; and conscious that no one wouldcall him until after eight, the time he had agreed with Nicola;

he was free to enjoy his own company, and that’s exactly whathe was going to do.

It’s probably fair to say, he loved her and the children; but

only if love could be defined the way he had.

His mind went back to those early days in Content.He wasn’t quite sure whether he was an orphan or what, he

merely remembered having to take care of himself at a veryearly age, as there was neither mother nor father around to

help.Schooling was not part of his general agenda, but more

importantly, no one could ever take the credit for his

successes. Everything he achieved was down to his own effortsand motivation.

He had gone down to the town of Hope Bay, (he was thenaround fourteen years old).

He did not stop to say goodbye to the lady he called Miss

E.She had brought him up from a three month old baby and

as far as he could understand; but really all decisions were his

own. Yes she had prepared some really great meals, but thatwas all.

According to Miss E, his mother had, “fallen for the young parson”, and things only came to light as she began showing.


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In those days, and in such a place, it was impossible for themto make a success of their lives together; they left town.

His father had to resign his office as a pastor becausechurch blew a fuse over his involvement with his young

parishioner.

His mum also had to leave town in a hurry, because of theshame and attention that was being levelled at her, in that

small village community.

It transpired that she asked Miss E to look after her babyfor just one day, but she never returned.

Miss E was not even a relative, but became his carer from

then on anyway. She did her best, but didn’t have the energyand strength of character to deal with this young wild boy.

In Hope Bay, he was instinctively drawn to a church justoutside the town, so he entered, and sat down at the back of the

church.A smile broadened revealing pure pearly whites, as he

remembered meeting Mrs White.

She must have been some kind of a prophet, because she

somehow knew he was hungry, and invited him home forlunch. He thought she must be really clever, as people kept

referring to her books; so he felt humbled in her presence.Lunch turned into supper, and supper to breakfast. He slept

on the veranda, as the family had spent the evening swappingyarns, and fascinated; he listened until it was too late to leave.

Mrs White’s sister was a market trader, and would travel

around the district buying various produce to sell at Kingstonmarket; and as he was both a willing and eager learner, he

became her constant companion on her excursions. Withouthesitation she offered him a home, and unofficial adoption.

This he grabbed before the words had left her mouth. Not only

because the environment was more suitable for a young man todevelop into; but also because her daughter Virginia was the

most beautiful person he had ever seen, and being near her was

as close to heaven as he could imagine. His face portrayed adeep-seated frown as he recalled her rejection; and looking

back, he could almost understand, but unforgivable just thesame.


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After all these years, he still felt the pain, and the laughterthat accompanied her rejection.

A key turning in the front door jolted him back to reality;then he remembered they had a housekeeper, so he figured he

would stay quiet so no one would realise he was at home. He

listened and he supposed the gardener had arrived at thekitchen door; followed by some muffled tones, interspersed

quite frequently by bursts of laughter.

He thought “am I hiding in my own house?” Then he thought again and figured he was most certainly

not up to holding small talk, so he laid still, and for what

seemed like hours; all the time wishing they would actuallytake his money under false pretences, and go home.

Another chuckle rattled in his throat when he heard thedoors opening, a few muffled sounds and then they were gone.

Great.He could always count on the basic instincts of the British

worker; take the money, and scarper when you think the boss

isn’t looking.

“I don’t even have to take a shower,” he mused to himself,“yes, today is my scruffy day. I deserve at least one of these

per year.” Having time to himself, gave him the chance to muse over

all kinds of things, but the taboo was business. He had made aresolution to keep Sundays for independent thinking. For just a

moment or two he thought through the issues that would result

from the changes he intended making to the business structure.He had talked it through with spider, (his business name for his

daughter Nancy).Like brother Anancy in the stories, she was shrewd,

especially for one so young.

She had a brilliantly analytical mind, and would oftencome up with solutions to problems he had not even dreamed

about. She was smart alright, and would one day make a

worthy successor; but not quite yet. It concerned him just alittle that she had not fully committed to coming into the

business, but that didn’t really present many real worries; afterall she was still very young, and as there was plenty of time


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yet, there was no point in mounting real pressure and besides,there was no possibility of him moving over for many years to

come; so she would have to wait to prove herself anyway, heconcluded.

It was during breakfasting that he decided, as the day

looked great, he would amuse himself by cutting the lawn.Today he felt very British, so marmalade and toast, washed

down with a glass of hot Ribena, fulfilled the role; but then

who drank hot Ribena?He would not have to have another pointless discussion

regarding the virtues of hot Ribena, or anything else he chose

to do that would annoy Nicola. She never fully understood histaste in food; or anything else for that matter; but he figured

that as long as she fulfilled her part in his quest for socialacceptability then all would be well.

She probably loathed him, if the looks she threw in hisdirection were anything to go by, She would grow to love him

properly, after all he had given her two beautiful young ladies

in Gem and Spider, so what more could she expect from him.

He thought just how quiet things would be at the breakfasttable, if he never engineered these moments and he somehow

felt left out of their conversations, so what was this all aboutanyway? Then he deliberately broke off the thoughts, as they

would always lead to angry confrontations between Nicola andhimself, and as she wasn’t there today, there was no point in

working himself into a frenzy.

Was it really worth it?Then maybe it was a price worth paying for success.

He felt like doing something energetic, maybe evendangerous; so he would treat himself and cut the lawn.

It dawned on him that he hadn’t done anything like this in

years; and thanked his maker for the invent of the gym. Hefigured he’d grow to be bigger than a house, had it not been for

the regular twice-weekly workouts, and in the privacy of his

own home.There can be no doubt that being rich does not make you

happy; and he wondered if he ever even knew the meaning ofthe word. Sure, he was not truly unhappy; not really, but as


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sure as eggs are eggs, there seldom anything happening in hislife that brought joy.

Not the girls; no one.The mower was different. Oh yes, he remembered writing

the cheque. He cursed his luck, then smiled on reflection that

as a Christian he was not really supposed to curse; but then noone heard, so it was probably ok.

Still, he would pray later, in case it helped.

He found the key but still the machine would not start;then he noticed the diesel lock, opened it, tried again, this time

the magic of the Ferguson became apparent as the great

monster roared into life.It felt good.

Maybe he ought to get rid of the chauffer and drive thismower to the office. Lord knows; it’s fast enough.

Money can bring happiness after all, he contented; anddrove at breakneck speed, back and forth; zigzagging this way

and that in total ecstasy.

Oh well, maybe he should cut the grass now; and this

increased his excitement; and he found himself yelling indelight.

WowAfter two, maybe three trips up and down the lawn, he

noticed a red light flashing, followed by a buzzing sound. Thelight indicated the grass-box needed emptying, so he brought

the engine to a halt, removed the box, and decided to empty

the contents over the fence at the bottom of the garden. It was public land that backed unto his, and although there were lots

of signs prohibiting fly tipping, he had long ago reasoned thatas grass cuttings were often used as fertilizer, there was

absolutely no problem with dumping the fertilizer over the

fence. It was his public duty to do it; and it would save thecouncil the problem of collecting the cuttings.

His was a particularly large Victorian house, with stables,

and other utility outbuildings. He always felt they were un-necessary, but they came with the house. Nicola had always

referred to it as his house, and that was true; because it was


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from her parents that he acquired it, against her every wish dueto the damaging memories, which came with the house.

She grew up in that very house, with all the hauntingmemories of her earlier years.

For him, this was evidence of his becoming master of his

own home and destiny.He had chosen the house; and yes you could say she knew

about it, as she viewed it with him, before he actually bought

it; but all decisions were taken by him, and why not.He had arrived from the bush in Jamaica, with mega driven

ambitions, and had worked hard to achieve his current status.

Natural talents had given him the foundation, and the thrill of performing would guarantee a life devoid of boredom.

Money makes money, even if it doesn’t carry a title, but

that would come soon; of that he was convinced. It was moneythat helped him acquire the Financial Advisor tag and now he

was on his way.

He didn’t need to have a label to succeed in business; but

social success; well that’s quite a different matter altogether. That he knew instinctively, and although it didn’t take that

long to achieve the number one status in the UK financialmarketplace, he was still not invited to the best clubs, and

party invitations were almost non-existent, he needed help ifhis self-imposed goals were to be realised.

Oh yes, he did need Nicola after all.


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The Man

Simeon had been replaced by Simon; and Jamaican bush had

become the countryside.His exploits into the entertainment industry he dismissed

as being vulgar, but the royalties bought him the space and

time he needed on his way to acceptability.

The old money brigade occupying the boardroom would

truly look down their noses if they realised not only was hismoney new, but it was also vulgar.

No way could he ever allow any of this to leak out.

These were the kinds of subtle changes that facilitated hisseemingly meteoric rise to prominence in the financial

business world, but really it was the vulgar that gave him his

start, and maintained him there.It was his investment brain, whilst maintaining the ten

percent tithe that gave him that initial air of acceptability.As the money flowed in, he faithfully paid his ten percent,

expecting his blessings; and they came in abundance. The

more he gave, the more he seemed to get in return, so God wasnot that fussy how you got your money, just as long as He got

His cut; and that suited him real fine.

If God could use the promises of blessings to follow, then

why couldn’t he use the same promises to secure his life’sambitions?

Seems fair.

His faithful giving of tithes, and generosity in local

offerings were soon noted by the church’s hierarchy and theyfurthermore encouraged him to sign up to the deed of

covenant; although strictly speaking this was not allowed, ashe was a nonstandard tax payer; but a blind eye was turned,

after all returning to the Lord was not an offence in itself.The many write-ups he received in their internal magazine,

coupled with his appearance on their world broadcasting


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network, ensured he would be noticed in the businesscommunity.

There is no such thing as bad publicity, and his was verygood indeed, so he revelled in the prominence and fame of the

hour. He would copy the real old money brigade, and

withdraw from publicity, figuring that rarity carried its ownrewards, and future interviews with the media would be kept to

the bare minimum.

Nicola was relatively easy, as he represented the new PC,he figured she couldn’t have resisted him.

The man.

It was nice to have this up and coming businessman intown she thought, and as he was young, that helped, and as he

was black that helped further, so she was quite happy when herfather informed her that Simon would be joining them for the

weekend. Simon was becoming a big player in the financialmarkets, so he would be expecting her to be a good hostess,

and ensure the young man enjoyed the experience.

Their meeting was perhaps best described as lust at first

sight.She was tall, slender, tiny waisted, small but inviting

bosoms.Legs that went on seemingly for miles; and a dimpled

smile to match. Her wrinkled nose seemingly pointing up atthe sky, made her even more desirable to Simon, so there was

no way he would not be having her, one way or another.

She a true English Rose; was everything he had beenlooking for.

He wasn’t a man used to not having his way, so all that preoccupied his mind on that first sighting; was how and

where he would be having her.

He could imagine those tender breasts heavingrhythmically to the sound of his own heartbeat, and he could

almost feel her legs entwined around him. This was his true

reality.The English Rose plucked by this Jamaican from Content.

The memory of that first encounter would stay with himforever.


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That’s how he remembered it, and he wondered how Nicola would remember that afternoon, but one thing was for

sure, she was going to be his.When her father Sir Richard invited him to their weekend

shoot, the stage was set for his acceptance within her English

society, and Nicola would prove the crowning glory.This often brought a chuckle to his face; fond memories to

his mind, but such thoughts did nothing to fill the void in his

heart.The humming of the Ferguson brought him back to reality,

and not a moment too soon, because he was just in time to

stoop in order to avoid banging his head on the low lying limbon one of the border trees. As he approaching the fence; he

straightened himself, only to trip on a pot someone had leftlying there. Accidents come in threes he mused to himself, but

not quickly enough to find himself pitching headlong towardsthe fence, grass box deserting his grasp, and completely out of

control.

He fell headlong onto the fence; as one of the stakes went

straight through his neck.So there he was left sprawled across the fence, and a pole

running through his neck.The pain was instantaneous, and relief just as quick.

Instinctively his left hand moved timidly up the side of hisneck, and although the pole was clearly buried in his body,

there was no pain, neither any bleeding; so what was going on?

He tried calling out in the vain hope that maybe thegardener, or housekeeper or anyone else for that matter was

there, but no answer came back. He reasoned that maybe the pole had penetrated his voice box, but through the pain he

smiled to himself in the certain belief someone would find him

soon; alive.He knew almost instinctively that focussing on something

specific, would help, but he could not find anything to hold his

attention for even a split second; then it dawned on him, thiswas the end.

“Damn! I’m going to die.” His entire life began to flash before his eyes.


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He thought of Nicola.God! Legs.

She was beautiful, but he would never get the chance totell her so.

Not just to look at; tall, naturally blonde, and with dimples

to boot, but now all that was being left behind.He chuckled through the pain.

She was brave too, It was one thing marrying someone so

you can hold your head up in your community, with yourfriends, it was quite another thing giving birth, if once was not

enough, she did it firstly with Gem; but she repeated the feat

just a year later with Nancy. Nancy with the penetrating eyes, and disarming smile.

As beautiful a young woman that you could ever hope tofind anywhere on the planet, coupled with that dark mystery

filled complexion; she was a real beauty.Gem was great too, but Brother Anancy as he called her,

was just that extra bit special.

Then his attention turned to wishing.

Wishing the girls were here now.Wishing he had spent less time at the office, and invested

some real quality time with the girls. Maybe had he done sothey both would not have gone with Nicola, and he wouldn’t

be hung up on a fence.What a waste.

New dangers flashed across his thoughts, then he must

have lapsed into unconsciousness.He couldn’t have been out for long, or could he?

He truly felt completely alone, and he didn’t like it one b it.If God was all they said about Him, He could not be fooled

by fake contrition, so there was no point going down that

avenue.He felt cold, but the sun was still high in the sky.

As he tried looking up, his vision began fading, then

returning into focus, then fading again.Oh how he wished he was back in Jamaica with Miss E,

his true protector. If she here he would be safe by now.


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But then he remembered he did not even turn back to thankher, so why should she help him?

Joe.That’s it.

Joe!

Where was he when he needed him?Joe!

A tear fell; as he recounted the events that brought him to

this country; and another smile interrupted the tears.That’s the picture Nancy saw when she found him stuck on

the fence, as white as could be, stomach swollen.

He was dead.

Nicola was not coping very well, neither for that matterwere the girls, but hers was a stomach binding grief, and with

no one to talk to, she sank deeper into herself.For the first time in her life, she was expected to make

decisions, but how?

Simon had done very well in making provisions for his

family.The twenty million pound insurance had been paid out, in

its entirety, the policy was set up in trust, and as such was notwithin the scope of the death duty legislation; and although to

most families this was a tidy sum, it soon became evident thatthere were other pressures on their resources.

The business was directed exclusively by Simon. It was his

baby; he started it, financed it, and to the best of herknowledge he didn’t trust anyone enough to place any

confidence in anyone else, so he held the reins, whipped thehorses, and collected the passengers all by himself.

In his rare moments of pretending to show interest in the

family, the name Joe would crop up, but as it meant nothing toher, and his reluctance to being questioned, she would only

pick up the odd snippets, but one thing could not be matched to

another. No one was expecting a year old, fit male, to die, and in

the manner he had.


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Her position was essentially that of a trustee, as Nancywas, in accordance with the will, the one bequeathed by Simon

to be responsible for the business, bank accounts, andeverything financial.

She was still fifteen and would remain so for another three

months; so things would remain in limbo until then. He hadseen in her similar qualities his own, and believed she was best

qualified in taking the business forward

In frustration Nicola took to her bed; whilst all around herwas chaos.

She had realised that all the senior managers had taken the

opportunity of his death, to go on holiday.They were clearly having a laugh, and they would be made

to pay, if she had anything to do with it.The wage bill continued to mount, whilst income levels

fell sharply.Both girls, almost in a morbid way, spent most of their

days at the fatal spot.

Neither could understand the smile on his face.

Surely he was in quite some considerable pain at the timeof death; so why the smile?

Who was their dad really?It occurred to them that no one knew anything about their

father. His life seemed to start on his arrival in the UK. Noone, not from his church, his friends, or anywhere knew

anything about him. It was a strange eulogy.

They both wanted to find out more about him, and withoutactually mouthing the words, vowed to find out.

The church service was a little embarrassing; because tryas they might, there was no one who could witness about his

earlier life.

It was here that even Nicola admitted she never knew him.The parson who had so often, and so willingly taken his

money, knew even less; and was in something of a panic,

because the source of so much of their funding was gone.The church service was a little embarrassing; as try as they

might, there was no one who could witness about his earlierlife. It was here that even Nicola admitted, she never knew

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Not So Merry-Go-Round