Nothing I Can Do About It Now
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2016 by Denham Forrest

Look, maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. Actually I know I wasn’t; I was pretty pissed-off with the world and a lot of the people in it. Eventually the idea of disappearing off to the South Seas seemed to be some consolation to me. Actually dropping out of normal society really had begun to sound like a good idea to me, although I had no idea how far I would eventually take it.

Maybe by that time, I was even getting a little annoyed with Jenny and Dog as well. Yes, they were both theoretically acting in my best interests; but they were going to get their share of my projected financial windfall as well. Eventually, I found that just talking to them on the telephone began to get to me.

Disappearing completely off the face of the earth wasn’t really my idea. It came from a loud-mouthed Ozzy guy in a bar just outside Auckland one evening. I think I’d taken to nipping down the pub, to get away from mother and Humphrey more than anything else. They were just being too ... conciliatory; I think you’d call it. It got so that I couldn’t tolerate the atmosphere in the house anymore.

Anyway, this loud-mouthed digger, who’d certainly imbibed much more than was good for him that day, was harping-on about how he’d done a runner with all the money when he’d found his wife and his business partner in bed together. (Actually his words were that he’d shot through, which I took to mean he’d done a runner.) There was the vaguest hint that he might possibly have done both of them some physical injury, but other than inferring that the Sidney police might be interested in his whereabouts, the bloke didn’t enlarge. He was just raving-on about the satisfaction he was getting from having disappeared on everyone.

“None of the buggers,” from the way he was talking I deduced that he was referring to his friends and family, as well as the police, “thought I’d shoot-through, like I did! They knew what was going behind my back alright; they had to, it’s a small town. But none of the drongos let-on to me about it, or knows where the hell I am now. It must be driving them gaga!”

It could have been the drink, or it could have been a form of temporary paranoia. But anyway by the time I left that bar that evening -- in a reasonably inebriated condition myself -- I think I’d made the decision to follow the Australian guy’s lead. As far as everyone in the UK was concerned, I was literally going to fall off the edge of the earth, for a while.

Okay yeah, when I reflected on the idea the following day, I figured that there would be some people in the UK that I’d keep in touch with, mainly Jean and Greg, I think. But then a couple of days later, something happened that changed my mind about even staying in touch with them as well; but I’ll get to that in a minute.

In the meantime I had myself a long chat with Craig and an Auckland bank manager friend of his. From what they told me between them, I figured-out how I could vanish my money even from Dog’s inquisitive eyes. Dog had sent me certain information about where my cash was going to finish up, and details of two bank accounts he’d arrange to pay cash into when I requested it. What Craig and his bank manager friend taught me how to do, was move the money on yet again, very quickly.

Mind you, it was going to call for me to make a couple of stops on my way back to the UK to set-up certain accounts, and when I eventually did go back ... Well, I had me some agro getting into both countries, but not as much as I probably would have, without Humphrey’s diplomatic friends pitching in.

However, I was sort-of getting used to all that crap by then, and it did nothing to reduce my resolve to disappear.

I will admit that at that time, in my heart at least, I was in two minds about the plan. Yeah one side of me really wanted to go through with it. The other kind-a of wanted to preserve my old life. I should imagine lots have people have had second thoughts about a big a step they are about to take, during the planning stage.

Think about all those poor souls back in the seventieth and eighteen centuries who set off for a new life on the other side of the world in rickety sailing ships on journeys that were going to take months. Shit, if it all turned sour on me, I could jump on a jet and be back in the UK, or down in New Zealand with my mother and Humphrey, in a less than twenty-four hours.

I think the final nail was driven home, when John Noble and his girlfriend Stella unexpectedly turned up at my mother’s house. Once I’d got over the shock of their arrival, I found myself becoming very angry; not only with them, but with Katie, Jean and Greg as well.

To put it briefly -- and as John told the story – he had tried to call me in the UK to kind-a touch-base. Katie had obviously turned on the charm and told them about everything that had happened between the two of us. Then John and Stella had decided to turn-up in Auckland to put their oar in, Jean -- I was to learn -- having informed them where I could to be found.

John sat in my mother’s lounge and spieled out a line of bull about Stella and him returning to the house on that Saturday evening.

They claimed, that they had been worried because I’d been so angry that night and feared that I might do something I’d later regret. Their story was, that they had returned in John’s car and parked a few doors down the road. Then they’d waited for Katie to return home.

They further claimed to have watched Katie get out of her cab, and go to the front door. Then sat there in amazement and watched as Katie had entered the porch, where she’d removed her tights and panties, before undoing the buttons on her blouse, finally pulling her bra strap off of one shoulder.

“Look mate, Kate was on a wind-up. Yeah, she looked like she’d had a few, but she was decently dressed and alone in that cab when it pulled up. And ... well, you know ... Stella and me can swear she’d didn’t appear to have been ... Oh shit Owen, you know what I’m trying to say here. Look, Kate told us that she and her sister had spent the whole evening at some woman from her office’s place, who’d just caught her old man playing around on her. They’d shared a bottle of wine or two, but there had been no blokes present.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” I replied.

“Yeah, why not, it all checked out when I enquired. And what with Kate dishevelling her clothing like she did. Well, its obvious isn’t it? Katie was pulling your chain, that’s all mate.”

“Then pray tell me, why didn’t you tell me all this before. You know, like the following morning or something. Why wait until now nearly a bleeding month later?

“Well to be honest with you mate, we thought everything was sweetness and light between you two. Stella and I kind-a sneaked up to house, just in case we had to step in and separate the pair of you ... And ... well shit, from the noises coming from your bedroom window that night ... Well, we thought you’d kissed and made up. Jesus mate, it sounded to us like you were having a right heavy session of it. We were bloody surprised the neighbours didn’t kick-off.”

“That was ... Um well, that was a tape I was watching, or rather, that I had the sound turned up on, to drown the sound of Katie’s whinging at me through the bedroom door.”

“Yeah, so Kate told us when I called her from Sidney last week. But honestly mate, we thought you and Kate were busy burying the hatchet that night, so we sneaked away again. You know we flew down here couple of days later. Shit, I could kick myself now, for not giving you a call on that Sunday.”

“I’m sorry John, but I’m just not buying it. Actually, whatever Katie did or didn’t do on the Saturday evening, she intended for me to think that she’d got herself laid.”

For sometime the conversation went on much as several others I’d had in the preceding weeks. I should imagine you must know what my position was by then, so I can see no point in repeating everything all over again here.

Believe it or not, John and Stella turning-up at my mother’s house, probably was the final straw as far as me making the decision to get the hell out of my old life was concerned.

John and Stella were there with the sole intension of persuading me to reconcile with Katie. Obviously Jean and Greg had told John where to find me so, I kind-of knew their sentiments as well. Even Jenny Rose and Dog, although they were efficiently undertaking the tasks I was paying them for, were really in Katie’s camp.

When John and Stella left that day, my mind was finally and irrevocably made up. Shortly after they’d driven away, I called my stepbrother and told him that I was definitely in and I’d be leaving for the UK as soon as I could set things up. As I’ve mentioned Humphrey pulled in a few favours that helped me out during my somewhat indirect journey back to the UK.

There were certain banks in a couple places where I needed to set up accounts and leave specific instructions as to how cash coming into those accounts was to be handled. Anyway, members of the New Zealand diplomatic service either met me at the airports, or I was made aware that they’d already been in touch with the local authorities to smooth my path. Oh, I was sporting both a brand new New Zealand passport as well as my British one by that time.

My arrival on British soil was expected, as all my recent stops had been, probably through the auspices of Humphrey. And you could say that I was fast tracked through passport control and customs. Put it this way, I was first one out of the arrivals gate by a long chalk.

I made a quick call to Jenny Rose with the intention of letting her know that I was back in the country. But I only got one of her staff, who informed me that Jenny wanted me to come in and see her. Actually the girl got quite shirty with me, when I told her that wasn’t going to happen in a hurry, because I had some business to take care of that would keep away the town for some time.

Then I informed her that Jenny Rose would be hearing from my sister’s legal people in New Zealand. I was turning my house ... the family or my mother’s house in the UK really, over to her. My sister’s daughter was into performing arts, and she had expressed a wish to study in the UK. It wouldn’t be for a year or so, but I’d figured that Amelia and her daughter had a legitimate right to the property.

The girl took the message and then asked me what Jenny Rose was supposed to do about it.

“Mrs Rose has my power of attorney or whatever you call it. She’s to do whatever my sister asks her to do with the bloody house. If Amelia wants the house put into her name, then that’s what Jenny is to do. If Amelia wants it sold, then Jenny is to turn the cash over to her. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir. But Mrs Rose will want to see you.”

I was getting as tetchy with the girl as she’d been with me when the conversation started.

“I doubt she’s going to, not in a hurry anyway. I’ve got a new project in the offing that is going to consume most of my time, for a very long while. Mrs Rose has my written instructions; you should know, I think you typed them up. I’m damned sure Mrs Rose’s bill will reflect every minute she, you and your colleagues spend on my behalf.”

I didn’t say goodbye, I just slammed the payphone back into its cradle. Damn-it, if the thing didn’t ring before I’d had the time to look up the number of hotel I’d left my gear at.

“Yes!” I bellowed down the phone.

“Owen, it’s Jenny! What’s going on?”

“Your girl has got the message Jenny. I’m a little busy with my new life; please just carry through all the instructions we as we arranged.”

“Where can I contact you?”

“You can’t Jenny, I’ll be at sea. I’ll get in touch with you, should the need arise.”

“Very well, I’ll wait until you get in contact. Nothing has changed then, you know concerning Katherine?”

“No, it bloody-well hasn’t!”

Okay Owen, you’re a little ... short today.”

“What do you expect Jenny. I’ve spent the last fifty odd sodding hours travelling back from New Zealand. I’d like to get my head down but I’ve still got to get pick my gear up and...” I managed to stop myself, I nearly let on the Jenny where I was heading. “Anyway I’ve still got some travelling to do today.”

“As you wish Owen. But I’ve a message here, you should call a man called Humphrey in New Zealand as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks Jenny, I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

Then I said good-bye, hung up and headed for another telephone that I’d spotted further along the airport concourse.


It was expensive but I sent a taxi to the hotel and my old office to collect all my crap. I’d asked Jean to pack my personal gear in my office away ready for me when I’d told her I was no longer her boss. According to the cab driver she gave him some real gyp when he presented her with my authorising note and then refused to tell her where I was going.

Well he couldn’t, he only knew that he was to meet me at Euston Station. It might sound all very unnecessarily cloak and dagger, but when he arrived there I transhipped all the gear onto a trolley and once he had driven away, it all went into another cab for a ride to a different station the other side of the city. In a way, I was having a little fun with all my so-called friends. The whole point about disappearing is to vanish isn’t it? Let any of the buggers try to find me once I was finished.


Cassandra was everything Craig had said she would be. Much bigger than anything I’d sailed alone before, so the instant I saw her I figured I’d need a couple of crew to help me sail her halfway around the world.

Although she still belonged to her original owner, a telephone call from Craig in New Zealand a few days before had led to half the boatyard’s people dashing around like blue-arsed flies. Small Boatyard workers are famed for their accurate and precise work, not for their speed. But as I signed the cheque, I was informed that she would be ready to put to sea in less than three weeks.

After crawling all over her myself for a couple of hours and making a few minor changes to the plans, I figured that I needed to find somewhere get some to sleep pronto; I was almost asleep on my feet. Find somewhere I did, another yacht under repair or maybe for sale, in the boat yard. Jesus, I lay my head down on the bunk and went out like a light.


Sixteen hours later one of the Boatyard guys came to find me. Craig was on the telephone in the office.

“I’m sorry Owen, Betty’s gone! A stroke or heart attack they think, two nights ago.” Craig informed me bluntly.

My immediate thought was to dash back to New Zealand, but Humphrey came on the phone and managed to talk me out of it. Humphrey insisted that I’d spent far too many hours cooped-up in aeroplanes that week, and said that that much air travel just wasn’t good for ones health.

“Owen we’ve lost Betty. There’s no sense in you killing yourself to get back here for her funeral. She’ll be with you wherever you are. Now what you need to do son, is chill-out for a while. I know that you couldn’t relax over here, and I suspect I know why. But your mother liked Katie, you know?”

No point in continuing with that conversation, because Humphrey was a diplomat, who could talk the Arabs into buying Alaskan oil, if he chose to. I was good, but I was way out of my league where Humphrey was concerned.

I wouldn’t want anyone to think I took my mother’s passing too lightly though. I was upset for a very long time after she died. But Humphrey and my stepsiblings’ insistence that I shouldn’t dash back down there for her funeral, did make a lot of sense, if you stood back and looked at it.


Later that day I moved into a local pub, while the work on Cassandra continued at a pace. When it comes to sailing halfway around the world the timing of your start is of paramount importance. Hey well, it was going to take some time and there’s little point in setting out during the winter in the northern hemisphere and then arriving in the southern regions during winter down there. Well not if you can help it, there isn’t.


The manager in the boat yard fairly quickly located several guys, experienced sailors, who were interested in crewing for me for free. Actually he turned them up so quickly, that the suspicion returned that Craig had been intending to buy Cassandra himself, before I came on the scene. That would also explain to me why the work on her was so far advanced before I arrived and paid for as well.

Anyway two of the guys seemed to know their stuff and both were anxious enough to get to the other side of the world, that they offered to crew for me gratis; that’s the kind of crew I like. From what happened later though, I have to wonder whether they were keener on getting out of the UK quietly, for some reason. Who knows, but they were good sailors and they didn’t do me any harm.

 
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