The Wager
- 2 years ago
- 16
- 0
July 1971, age 16
I love Los Angeles. I love the buzz, the beaches and the bikinis.
On the other hand, I hate California’s age of consent law.
I hadn’t really expected to be bedding anyone during this trip, but when I saw one particular young lady appear by the hotel pool, she got a definite rise out of me, and suddenly the law was an annoyance. The girl was probably a little older than me and well developed in a good way. And her two piece swimsuit was barely legal. She certainly knew how to turn heads.
I must have been a bit obvious in my leering, as Corey slapped the back of my head. “Don’t bother, dude. You don’t stand a chance with the ice queen.”
He had a peeved look on his face, so I asked, “You’d know, would you? Turned you down, maybe?”
“Eww, no! That’s my sister, Madison.”
Madison Wilson? “She has a forename and surname both ending in son? Your parents didn’t think that through, did they!”
He shrugged. “They always intended her to be Madi.”
“I take it you two aren’t close.”
“We used to be, till she started high school. That’s when Madi was replaced by Madison the queen bitch. This year I was a freshman while she was a senior. First, she set the football team on me. Then, she put the word round that any girl who even smiled at me would be on her shit list. I’ve gone a whole year without a date. Thank fuck she’s graduated. Kinda tired of it being just me and my right hand.”
I didn’t really know what to say to that semi-admission of virginity. I’m sure girls must have thought he was hot, with his body-of-a-Greek-God that made me so jealous. I found myself embodying the voice of my shrink from a few years back, asking, “You think maybe she’s angry at your dad about the divorce and misdirecting at you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But that doesn’t help me any.”
“So, she’s 18?”
“Yes?”
“How would you like some payback?”
“How?”
I smiled. “I think I’m up to the challenge of thawing out your sister. I’ll take one for the team, you walk in while she’s banging an underaged boy, ammunition for life!”
“Nice idea, but you’ve got no chance, dude. She only gives boys the time of day if they help her social standing.”
“Interesting.” I could work with that. “How much you wanna bet?”
“I wouldn’t wanna take your money, man.”
“Loser does a dare then. You game?”
“She’s gonna make you cry.” We shook.
It took a little organisation to put my plan into play. I knew I was debasing myself by engaging in the stuff of trashy high school movies. But (a) she was fucking hot, and (b) I felt for Corey and wanted payback on his behalf. Unlike the aforementioned movies, there was zero chance of us falling in love and living happily ever after.
At breakfast the next morning, I went to the Wilsons’ table to meet their father. “Good morning sir, my name’s Finnley Harrison. I thought I’d come and say hi as I’ve been hanging out with Corey the last few days.”
Polite small-talk followed, with Madi pointedly ignoring me. That changed with my opening gambit.
“We’ve chartered a yacht for today, and I was wondering whether you would allow Corey to come along? Madison too, if she’d like? We were planning on sailing up the coast a little toward Malibu.”
I deliberately avoided looking at Madi, but I saw in my peripheral vision that her head came up.
“Corey, would you like to go?”, his father asked.
“Yeah, dad. Sounds awesome.”
“Madi?”
She winced slightly at the use of that name in front of me. “What sort of yacht?”
“It’s a 90-foot motor yacht with a professional crew”, I told her. Then turning to Corey, “It also has jet skis aboard for when we moor somewhere.”
Corey was sold. Madi too, but she played it cool. “It might make for a pleasant day.”
I caught their father rolling his eyes, which made me smirk. “Should I speak to your parents?”, he asked me.
Before I could answer diplomatically, Corey blurted out, “Dad, they’re dead”.
Mister Wilson was a little shocked. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done”, I said casually, noting Madi’s close attention. Time to stir the pot. “I have a guardian with me for this trip if you’d like to speak to him. And a company lawyer is always nearby if necessary.”
That peaked the interest of both father and daughter, but the conversation didn’t progress much from there.
An hour later we boarded the gorgeous yacht at Marina del Rey and were soon at sea. The charter crew were suitably attentive, if rather surprised their principals were so young. Ewan and two other guys were aboard with us but stayed hidden below deck.
The cruise up the coast took less than an hour, during which Madi sunned herself, and Corey and I explored. I noted the occasional low-level snarky comment from Madi to her brother, though she was always civil to me. With Corey out of earshot, I had to say something.
“Miss Wilson, the way you treat your brother is unbecoming for a lady of your beauty. Improve your behaviour, or I’ll put you ashore.” I walked off without waiting for a response. It may have blown my chances with her, but it felt worth it.
We anchored in one of the bays west of Malibu and spent the rest of the morning doing water sports. Madi even deigned to join us. A fabulous lunch aboard was followed by a tender ashore to spend an hour or so on the beach. This was where we had planned the next step in my conquest of Miss Madison Wilson.
While she was sunning herself, ignoring us boys, two guys approached and started chatting her up. They must have been 19 or 20, and were shirtless but not exactly buff. For a social climber like Madi, they didn’t seem her type. Both guys were actually actors, provided by the studio and playing a role. As planned, they were persistent despite Madi’s lack of interest. The climax of the little scene was them getting a bit too pushy and finding themselves picked up and frog-marched off the beach by four big guys.
Corey and Madi just sat there with their mouths agape.
“What just happened?”, Madi asked.
“Sorry about that”, I replied. “My bodyguards don’t like it when aggressive people get too close to me.”
“Bodyguards?!”, they both asked.
“Well ... yeah. Did you not notice the three guys with guns on the boat. There must be a dozen here on the beach.”
“Seriously?!”, Corey asked.
Ewan was sat barely three yards behind us, so I asked him loudly, “Do me a favour: have everyone wave at us.”
Ewan dutifully said something into the mic on his polo shirt collar, and hey presto, a whole load of inconspicuous men and women waved.
Madi stared at me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I just laughed and replied, “I’m Finn. Nice to meet you. Corey, you wanna play frisbee?”
The next day brought the next tactical move. Corey and I were in the pool, Madi on a lounger, when Ewan called me out of the water. With him was the reporter I had met in New York, and one of our lawyers.
“Mister Dorrington, nice to see you again”, I commented on the poolside, shaking his hand despite being dripping-wet. I led them to our sun-loungers to get my towel. “I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble at the New York Times”, I asked, knowing Madi would hear.
The young reporter grinned. “My colleague was kinda hacked off when you refused to see him. My bosses were mightily relieved when your people rang to give us a second shot.”
“No problem”, I replied. “I just don’t like people pissing me about.”
By this time I had Madi’s full attention, and Corey’s too.
“Do you mind doing this out here? Too much faff to go upstairs and get dressed.” I didn’t wait for an answer, pointing him to a nearby table with an umbrella. “Drink?”, I asked him. There was an outdoor bar just by us, which gave Corey and Madi ample opportunity to be in earshot.
We started off with small-talk while my guest set up a chunky tape recorder. I explained that I might sometimes have to refer my notes from Dan, and he put me at my ease by saying he too had notes from his bosses at the Times. I did suggest that we just swap notes, but he didn’t go for that!
“May I begin by repeating the question I asked when we first met? Can you confirm that you are the new owner of the New York Yankees?” In my line of sight, I saw both Corey’s and Madi’s eyes bug out.
“Yes, I can. Or rather my family’s company is.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You think a 16-year-old can own a professional baseball club? No way. I don’t have any legal control over the company until my eighteenth birthday. Whenever I do anything business-related, I always have a babysitter with me.”
“So they let you play at being executive until you’re old enough to do it properly?” He seemed amused.
“They let me play executive because they’ve worked out that anyone who pisses me off now will get fired in two years time.” That seemed to amuse him even more, but it was the look on my lawyer’s face that did it for me.
“So who is in charge of the Yankees right now?”
“The existing General Manager, Lee MacPhail, is in charge. He answers directly to our London office for now, but there’ll be a new board of directors in place very soon.”
“And Mister MacPhail has your full confidence?”
“Well, I’ve never met the man. HEY, COREY! WHAT D’YOU THINK OF LEE MACPHAIL?”
Corey did a goldfish impression, then gave me two thumbs-up.
“Good enough for me”, I laughed. “That matches all the advice we’ve had.”
The guy seemed unsure whether to be amused or horrified. “And the current CEO and board of directors presumably don’t have your confidence if you’re dismissing them?”
“They’re all CBS employees, so you’d expect a new owner to make changes, wouldn’t you? We’ll make announcements about new directors as quickly as we can, but I’ll tell you right now that they’ll all be Americans who will know a lot more about your national pastime than me.”
“Your friend, perhaps?”, he asked, thumbing toward Corey.
“He’s even younger than me, so no.”
“Why did you buy the Yankees?”
“Because I love sports.”
“Why not just buy a team back in Great Britain?”
“Oh, we have. We bought Wimbledon Football Club a few months ago, and we’ve begun investing in it. Wimbledon is the suburb of London where I live. We also bought an old country estate that has a derelict racetrack so we can get into motor sports too. So this is our third sports purchase, and I doubt it will be the last.”
“By football, you mean soccer, right?”
I nodded, but also commented, “Football: played with the feet!”
“So why baseball and why the Yankees?”
“Partly because it makes good business sense. Partly because I like an underdog. I think it’s fair to say that the Yankees have had a bad run lately. It’s definitely true that Wimbledon FC has an awful lot of work ahead to rise through the leagues, and the racetrack at Donington Park is a wreck. In each case, I want to be part of their journey, and I’m prepared to put the company’s financial clout into it. Like I said, we’ve already begun investing in the British projects. We’re even hoping to build a new stadium in Wimbledon. Whenever Lee MacPhail makes a good case for extra funds, we’ll support him and the team all the way.”
“Does that mean the Yankees could get a new stadium?”
Ha! I’d baited my little trap, and he couldn’t help but go there! Dan would be pleased. Our prepared answer was something he wanted put out there. “It’s definitely possible, but it’s not straightforward because the team doesn’t own the current stadium. But when I went to the Indians game, I saw for myself how badly the stadium needs improvement. The owners, Rice University, seem to be incredibly tight-fisted, so there are only really two options. Option one is that the city acquires the current stadium via eminent domain and use lots of tax-payer-dollars to refurbish it. Option two is that the team buys a site somewhere else within the city limits and builds a brand new stadium. Staying put and doing nothing isn’t an option because, eventually, a chunk of concrete is going to fall onto someone’s head. Long-term, it’s gonna get less and less safe.”
We hoped that answer would stir up some action!
“Can I take from that answer that you’re not considering a move to Meadowlands?”
“Correct. As long as we own the team, it will not leave New York City.”
“You have any possible sites in mind?”
“We do.”
“Care to share?”
“Nope! That would only drive up the price of the land.”
“Fair enough. Some Yankee fans might be rather unhappy about a foreigner owning the team. What do you have to say to them?”
I shrugged. “It’s a small world. American companies invest in other countries all the time, and that isn’t a one-way street. We’ve closed a deal in the last month to partner with a great American company expanding into the UK. Soon there will be a McDonald’s restaurant on every high street in Britain. Yankees fans should be no more wary of me than Brits should be of American hamburgers. So like a taste test, judge us on our results.”
Dorrington liked that soundbite and nodded appreciatively. “Your company has a habit of buying up smaller companies rather than building new ones. Why is that?”
I shrugged and said, “It’s quicker”. He expected more but didn’t get it.
“The reason I ask is that you’ve bought, what, seven companies so far this year? Eight now with the Yankees. That’s gotta leave you financially stretched, right?”
“Well, again, it’s the company, not me. But I see your point. This is a major expansion year for us. We’re planning to invest almost half a billion pounds this year across new and existing divisions. Our financial team expect an economic crash in the next two to three years, so we’ve basically compressed three years of expansion plans into one year.”
It took my interrogator a few moments to figure out his next question as we had veered off script.
“Walk me through that again? Why do you think the economy will tank? And why isn’t that a problem for you when you’re presumably up to your eyeballs in debt?”
The answer was ‘because we know the future’, but I obviously couldn’t say that. “I’ve been told to say that’s proprietary, so I could tell you, but only if you come work for us.”
Dorrington smiled and politely declined. “It’s also interesting that the companies you’ve acquired are all so different”, he continued. “You’ve bought a London newspaper group, a toy company, a luxury automotive brand, a chain of dance halls ... you even own an airline. What motivates these sorts of purchases?”
“We’re a conglomerate. Being diversified across lots of areas spreads the risk. Sometimes when we buy companies we have to turn them around; sometimes, like when we bought Marvel Comics in New York, they’re successful companies that fit nicely with our other operations. Whether it’s cars or newspapers or toys or property, the bottom line is that they all make good business sense.”
“You also own the company that builds Concorde, and you flew into New York on it. How was your flight?”
“It was great. Quick! Doing New York to Europe in three and a half hours is going to revolutionise air travel.”
“What do you say to the New Yorkers who are complaining about Concorde’s sonic booms?”
“I’d say they must have superhuman hearing. We deliberately dropped from supersonic to subsonic a hundred miles offshore. So unless they were out on a yacht or fishing boat, I’d say anyone claiming to have heard Concorde’s sonic boom is a bloody liar. Yes, Concorde is noisy taking off and landing, but it’s quieter than Air Force One. New York City can’t really ban Concorde on noise grounds without banning the President’s plane too. You think that’s a good idea?”
Dorrington had the good sense not to answer that! He moved swiftly on.
“Your company was founded by your Grandfather. Was he a big influence in your life?”
“Yes and no. I never met him until I was ten because of a family rift before I was born. He took in me and my sister after our parents died, so yes, he was a big influence in those last few years of his life.”
“Did he ever tell you the story about where he got the money to start his company?”
Oh shit. I didn’t like where this was going. “No. Why?”
“I just wondered. He was a soldier in the war, right?”
“Yes.”
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July 1973, age 18 All is not what it seems. That’s a phrase I got a much better understanding of during July and August of ‘73. Dan was the first to mention it, but he wasn’t the last. “Nice time playing croquet?”, Dan asked me when I got home Sunday night. I considered a poetic reply and came up with: “Bastard”. He had a good laugh, then told me, “The two object lessons from this are that things are not always what they seem, and it’s quite possible for a person to adapt to fit into any...
November 1973, age 18 November has to be the worst month of the year. The clocks have changed, so the days are shorter, and the weather is invariably miserable. Add to that the funeral of my best friend’s mum, and it became the antithesis of the season of cheer. Kelly Redpath’s funeral took place at Morden crematorium, not far from home (which we had now re-occupied after extensive building work). Harry seemed numb, understandably. I’d been in his shoes and knew how he felt. The police had...
September 1974, age 19 The academic year 1974-75 was either a triumph or a descent into depression, depending on which way you looked at it. My relationship with Charlie had been patched, but not entirely repaired. I negotiated with his mother for him to come down to stay every other weekend, but there was no getting around the fact that we were growing apart. The kids at the home all started their new schools in September, scrubbed and fitted with new uniforms. For some of them, it was...
August 1973, age 18 Helplessness is a truly horrible sensation. Agent Marks’s unvarnished proclamation that our home had been bombed caused Caity and Charlie to start crying and asking questions. Simon and Susan were trying to console Caity, and the Wilsons didn’t understand the significance. I was as shocked and upset as anyone else, but it eventually hit me that I was the only person in the room who could step up and act as parent. “Everyone, quiet! QUIET!” They stopped talking, though...
One evening during January 1966, Grandpa took me into his study and told me about a new business deal he was doing. He was trying to add another leg to the company octopus. A leg that would build aeroplanes. He told me about a famous company, Rolls-Royce, that was planning to buy another company, Bristol Aeroplanes. Rolls wanted to expand by adding Bristol’s engine division to their own. The thing was that Bristol also owned twenty percent of another big company, the British Aircraft...
January 1970, age 14 Double dating didn’t end up being as bad as I’d feared. Peter had been going out with Jacqueline since the OHMSS premiere, so we became a foursome. Ellie and Jacqueline together worried me a little as they seemed to feed off each other’s wildness, but we kept our next few dates on pretty safe ground. Ellie wanted to go back to the penthouse — that wasn’t happening so I lied, saying I’d got in trouble for using it last time. The thing that I took away from the meeting...
March 1971, age 16 My O-Level exams were scheduled to begin the second week of May and stretch into the middle of June. O-Levels (and the equivalent CSEs taken by the less academically able) were the qualification you got at the end of twelve years of education, age 16. It was the milestone where many left school. If you wanted to enter the next phase of education, namely two years of A-Levels and potentially university after that, it was absolutely critical you pass your O-Levels. The...
April 1973, age 18 It was the Sunday after Easter, the penultimate day of April. The last of the chocolate eggs had been demolished, so it was much like any other lazy Sunday. Except, it was also the day after the ‘incident’ with Caity and Simon. Conflicted was the word of the day. On one hand, I had completely flipped-out, losing self-control in a borderline psychotic moment. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But at the very least, I had lost my cool and acted without thinking things through....
December 1970, age 15 Two days after Christmas, Dan, Harry and myself were on the road north to Sheffield. We had debated bringing Harry’s mum but decided it was kinder to leave her in ignorance. When we reached our old home town, it felt like old times checking into the usual hotel. It was two Christmases ago that I was last there, back when Grandpa was still alive. That meant it had also been two years since I’d been to my parents’ graves. I resolved to fix that. The surveillance op was...
Day 1 — London to Weymouth Here beginneth the diary of my summer in Europe, late July and August 1970. It was just Harry, Ewan and myself on the trip, as neither Peter nor Tommy had been allowed to go. I was severely pissed off about that at first, but family holidays had already been booked which I couldn’t legitimately argue over. I would miss having Pete as a confidence-boosting wingman with any girls we might meet, but alas, it was not to be. Hey ho. The start of our expedition was a...
July 1971, age 16 After a week at Glastonbury, two weeks in the States and a brief excursion to Africa, I was looking forward to home comforts and my own bed. I was also hotly anticipating the following Monday morning when I would start flying lessons. There were two weeks left of July (flying in the mornings, company stuff in the afternoons), followed by our usual three-week family holiday at the villa in Italy. But all those wonderful plans went to shit with the news that Charlie and his...
July 1973, age 18 I was woken by someone banging on my bedroom door. “WHAT?”, I yelled from within my bed covers. The door opened, and Dan stepped inside looking annoyingly fresh and awake. “It’s past nine”, he told me. “Ewan mentioned your idea of doing something high visibility today to draw the press away from the villa. That seems a good idea to me, so get your lazy arse out of bed, eh?” I wanted to tell him to go do something rude to himself, but he had a point. “I’ll be down in a...
December 1969, age 14 My bad mood lasted the rest of the year. Thankfully none of the press overheard my rant at the cinema, or it really would have been a mess. The reviews of the film were not great, and personally, I was glad the history books said it would at least earn back its production costs. A commercial hit it was not. My prolonged bad mood was the product of several things. First and foremost was the four-month dry spell without a blowjob to relieve my tension. Obviously, I...
July 1974, age 19 Monday 15th July was the day of the Cypriot coup. But it was the following day that my future shrink would describe as my ‘traumatic episode’. It was nothing to do with staging a little war for television ratings, or the lingering guilt about the loss of Ewan’s arm, or my complicity in any number of the other questionable acts. Those would at least have been rational. On Tuesday the 16th, I discovered that I’d lost my baby brother. Or, at least, that’s how my brain...
September 1971, age 16 To quote Ernst Stavro Blofeld, we were about to inaugurate a little war. It would be brief and relatively bloodless. Hopefully. Perhaps more of a skirmish. Its purpose was to make the defence solution my company was providing to the Emirates utterly indispensable. It would take place on Monday 29th November, so we had the best part of three months. The villain of the piece: Iran. But first, the small matter of going back to school. When we got our new timetables the...
21st December 1966, age 11 & three-quarters Christmas looked like it was going to be a pretty miserable time. The story the orphanage staff told us was that Harry had been in a fight. Someone had stolen Harry’s watch, the prop from Thunderball that Sean Connery had given him. Harry had confronted the presumed thief, and that older kid had thrown the first punch which led to the police being called. The coppers, unsurprisingly, had far better things to do with their time. But the...
May 1965, age 10 The next few weeks established my routine that would last for years. I would drag myself out of bed in the morning (I’ve never been a morning person), wolf down my breakfast, go to school (where I would try my hardest but not get anywhere fast), be entertained by Peter, come home, swim, do homework, watch television (which I had only discovered since living with Grandpa), hear more stories demonstrating my grandfather’s clinical insanity, and go to bed. One addition to that...
July 1967, age 12 It was the summer of love, apparently. The London suburb of Wimbledon didn’t seem to be any more or less loving than normal, but I did at least go and buy the Beatles record Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which became the soundtrack to the summer. I spent lots of time singing along to Lucy in the sky with diamonds and With a little help from my friends, learning beyond doubt that my singing voice was best saved for the shower! As the school year gradually drew to a...
August 1966, age 11 In the summer of 1966, Jimmy Savile was already a well-known figure. He had been the face of ‘Top Of The Pops’ since it began on television in 1964 and had been on the radio even longer. I had watched the show every week since discovering television a year earlier, so for me to find that this man that I was in awe of was actually a prolific child abuser was a hell of a shock. As Grandpa sat behind the old oak desk in his study, a look of recognition came over him, and he...
April 1969, age 14 I heard Dan pounding up the stairs at full pelt, and he was at my side within seconds. Another security guy followed him, speaking into a walkie-talkie, and moments later Mrs O’Keef gripped me firmly by the arm and led me out of the room. For a lady in her late fifties, she was surprisingly strong. Caity had also appeared and was asking what was going on. All I could say was: “It’s Grandpa”. A few minutes later I heard an ambulance siren and then there were ambulance men...
July 1969, age 14 So my fifteenth summer was an interesting time. We played strip revision twice more, but with the proviso that we not go beyond oral sex. A few of the group were frustrated with that rule, but I was strangely relieved. The downside was that the knife-edge excitement of the first time was gone. In any case, the exams were soon over so the whole revision group came to an abrupt end, at least until the next year. In the last few weeks before term finished, I competed in the...
November 1971, age 16 The remainder of my time in the United Arab Emirates was rather less stressful than the morning of our little war. In retribution for Dan setting me up for a fall, Sheikh Maktoum had him shackled and carted off to prison for ritual torture. I’m kidding. He insisted we join him at his father’s palace for lunch as honoured guests. His father was the Emir of Dubai, a very wealthy man, second only to the Emir of Abu Dhabi in the UAE. We ate well and built a useful...
When Monday morning came, I was more than a little nervous about starting a new school. I went down to breakfast wearing my new uniform: grey knee-length short trousers, white shirt, gold and navy striped school tie, navy jumper with a patch sewn on with the school crest, and a school cap. Caity was already there wearing the same uniform (skirt instead of shorts) and told me that Mrs O’Keef had tried to teach her how to tie her tie. It looked alright, so I guessed that Mrs O’Keef had done...
Hello, friends, welcome back. Hope you enjoyed the first part of my series. This is the continuation of part 1 were you met Akash and his sister-in-law Shobha. Anyone who wants to give me their feedback can text me to . Narrated by Akash After I reached my cousin brother Rakesh’s house in Bangalore (a flat in Kumar apartments), I met my friendly sister in law for the first time. That moment when I saw her in her sleep shirt, exposing her milky white thighs just changed my entire view of a...
IncestJune 1969, age 14 The summer of ‘69 was when I really perfected being rebellious, and I wasn’t the only one. I was a teenager, so it was in the job description for me. I don’t know what Caity’s excuse was. After an intense couple of weeks of Uncle Will’s petty meddling in our lives, things had reached boiling point. Caity and I had zero respect for the man, so we settled on a new strategy: we completely ignored him. He could shout and scream at us all he liked (and did so extensively) but...
July 1973, age 18 It was late Monday night by the time I arrived home from Italy. I had spent the whole journey deep in thought. Stewing, as Ewan put it. Dan had waited up for me, but when I sank into an armchair across from him, I didn’t know what to say. Eventually, he interrupted my thoughts. “Come on, Finn. Talk to me.” I shrugged and told him, “I’m angry at myself”. He looked surprised. “Why? This wasn’t your fault.” “Oh don’t worry, I’m angry at you too. There’s plenty of blame to...