THE LANDLORDS:
And this would be a couple by the names of Sidney and Agnes Cable. Sidney and Agnes Cable’s decision to move into a new home came after a natural progression in their life.
They are married now for several years, and now have two young children. With the birth of their two young children—a lively boy and a curious girl—the apartment they once adored had become a little too cramped.
They were a delightfully small and young Family. Though they had loved their old place, it was time to find something more spacious to accommodate their growing family. Their previous Apartment is the one where now Mike Parris rents from.
The couple had looked about their neighbourhood for a few weeks before they settled upon this new 3-bedroom apartment that was perfect for them. Located only five minutes away from their old home, it meant they could remain close to their extended families, who were a big part of their support system.
Both Sidney and Agnes were fortunate to have relatives nearby who could help with babysitting or lending a hand when the demands of work and parenting became overwhelming. Having that sense of community made all the difference, especially as both parents juggled full-time jobs.
The neighborhood itself was quiet and family-friendly, with parks and playgrounds where the children could play, and a sense of safety that gave them peace of mind. Sidney, always a stickler for practicality, appreciated the proximity to his workplace, while Agnes, who was more attuned to the needs of their children, enjoyed the sense of comfort and familiarity that came with being surrounded by family.
The move was a fresh chapter, not just for the Cable family, but for the young couple as well. They had always envisioned raising their children in a place that felt like home, and this apartment seemed to provide that sense of stability and warmth. The decision to rent their old apartment to Mike Parris was a logical one—it helped with their finances and gave the space a new lease on life.
It wasn’t just about square footage or a nice location; it was about setting up a home where laughter filled the rooms, where the children could grow and learn, and where Sidney and Agnes could still rely on their families in times of need.
Sidney’s job as a longshoreman at the Tilbury Docks provided a steady, though physically demanding, income. He had been working there for years, and though the work was tough, he appreciated the sense of camaraderie among his fellow dock workers. The docks, situated at the mouth of the River Thames, were a busy hub of activity, with large ships coming and going, carrying goods from all over the world. Sidney had grown accustomed to the rhythm of the tides and the ever-present sound of cranes and cargo ships. While the work was labor-intensive, it suited him well. There was something rewarding about working with his hands and feeling a sense of accomplishment at the end of each long shift. His income was decent, and he was content to be there. Though he sometimes missed the occasional lazy afternoon or time off to travel, Sidney understood the value of hard work. His stability at the docks was a source of pride for him,
Agnes, on the other hand, had a more flexible role as a short-order cook at a local cafeteria. She worked in a small, no-frills diner that served a steady stream of workers, students, and locals. Her hours were ideal for the needs of a growing family. Some days she worked early in the morning, others she worked through the lunch rush, and there were evenings when she could adjust her schedule to spend time with the children. The flexibility of her hours meant that she could be home for dinner and help with bedtime routines, something Sidney greatly appreciated after his long, tiring shifts at the docks. Also, Schools were close by. And both Sidney and Agnes enjoyed a small circle of friends, many of whom lived not far from this area.
Their small circle of friends, many of whom lived nearby, was another comforting part of their daily life. It wasn’t a large social network, but it was tight-knit and reliable. There was a sense of familiarity and trust among the group. Weekends often involved casual get-togethers, with a few friends stopping by for a barbecue or a drink after a long week. It was the kind of support system that made life feel more manageable, especially when raising small children.
Her work wasn’t glamorous, but it was fulfilling in its own way. Agnes enjoyed the bustle of the cafeteria, the hum of conversation, and the satisfaction of getting a hot meal on a plate in record time. She had a knack for making people feel at ease, and the regular customers often made her laugh with their stories. It wasn’t just a job; it was a part of the local community, and she enjoyed being a familiar face to so many people. Plus, the income helped keep their household running smoothly, and she took pride in being able to contribute, even if it wasn’t in the way that Sidney did.
The schools were just around the corner, which meant that when their children were old enough, they would be able to walk to school without much trouble. That kind of accessibility gave them peace of mind—they wouldn’t have to worry about complicated drop-offs or long commutes to school.
Sidney and Agnes had a lot to juggle, but the balance between their jobs, their family, and their circle of friends gave them a sense of stability and contentment. They were building something solid together—a life that was grounded in the everyday but rich in love and connection. Even if the future held challenges, they had each other and the community around them, and that was enough.
Sidney had the more Full-time schedule and would often rotate from Days to Night Shifts depending on the Workloads. Sidney’s rotating schedule at the docks certainly took a toll on his personal life. The shift patterns—alternating between days and nights depending on the workload—created a kind of constant disarray in his sleep patterns. It was hard to get used to, wreaking havoc with Sid’s sleep Patterns. Some weeks, he felt like he was living in a perpetual state of jet lag, struggling to sync his internal clock with the demands of the job. The night shifts were particularly tough; the isolation of working while the world slept, and the exhaustion from trying to rest during the day, left him feeling drained. Still, Sidney was resilient, and he did his best to maintain balance. He knew that it was all for the good of the family, and no matter how grueling, the work was necessary to provide for them.
The two of them were hard working Individuals, and they took the chance in purchasing their new Home and had pooled their savings together to make that work. Agnes, with her more flexible hours, picked up the slack during those challenging times. She was used to the rhythm of Sidney's odd hours and understood the strain it could put on him. But she also knew that with their combined incomes, they were building something important. Their new home, the 3-bedroom apartment they had found, wasn’t just a place to live—it was an investment in their future.
Purchasing their first property was a significant leap for the couple, and they made it work by pooling their savings together. Agnes had the added help of borrowing money from her parents, which allowed them to make a substantial lump-sum deposit, while renting it out as a Mortgage helper to re-pay her parents. This was a huge advantage when it came to securing the mortgage, but it also came with its own pressures. Not only did they now have to meet the mortgage payments on their primary residence, but they also had the additional financial commitment of repaying Agnes’s parents. It wasn’t an easy path, but both Sidney and Agnes were grounded individuals, committed to making it work. They were resourceful, and despite the tightrope walk of managing multiple financial obligations, they managed to stay focused on their long-term goal.
One of the smartest moves they made was renting out their old apartment to help offset some of their mortgage expenses. Renting the flat out to Mike Parris turned out to be a stroke of luck. Mike was reliable, and the rent payments, however modest, helped lighten their financial load. Having a steady renter was exactly what they needed to keep their heads above water during those early months when their finances were stretched thin. Mike, for his part, was a quiet tenant who paid on time and kept to himself. This made him an ideal renter, and the Cable family never had to worry much about the apartment or any disputes.
Their steady progress as a small Family meant sacrifices in Holidays and Renovations, while they placed any additional finances towards their Primary Residence that they now had a second Mortgage on. Naturally, this was a risky venture, but the location was in a desirable area, on a Main Street and Bus Routes and had been easy to Rent out. The location of their new home was key. The apartment was well-positioned to attract tenants, which provided them with confidence in their decision to take on this second mortgage as mentioned.
The flower shop downstairs added a pleasant charm to the building and, importantly, drew foot traffic from local customers. The proximity to local shops and public transport made it an ideal spot for renters, and Sidney and Agnes hoped the property would appreciate over time, providing them with even more security in the future, while Mike rented the small flat above it. So, in this manner there were two streams of Income, on this same property. If all went smoothly- it would pay off big over time.
Mike Parris was their third Long-term Renter. Mike was exactly the type of tenant Sidney and Agnes had hoped for when they made the decision to rent out their old apartment. As the third long-term renter of the property (after the flower business downstairs), Mike had settled in comfortably, and the arrangement was working out well for everyone involved. His rental agreement was straightforward, with an initial commitment for one year, and the option to extend for an additional two years if both parties were satisfied.
Mike had no plans to leave anytime soon, which was a relief for Sidney and Agnes. Stability was key, especially when managing multiple mortgages and financial responsibilities. Knowing that they could rely on consistent rental income from Mike made their situation more manageable. He paid his rent using post-dated cheques, a method that gave both him and the landlords peace of mind. There was no scrambling to chase late payments or worrying about missed deadlines. If the cheques cleared on time, everyone was happy.
What made Mike an ideal tenant was his stable income. He worked full-time as a furniture restorer at a nearby workshop, where he had built up a reputation for quality work and reliability. Furniture assembly and restoration required both skill and patience, and Mike had honed his craft over the few years he had been doing this. His job paid well enough to cover his living expenses, including his rent. On top of that, Mike was a working musician, performing gigs several evenings a week. Though it wasn’t always predictable, his music income supplemented his day job and gave him the creative outlet he loved. All in all, he had a satisfactory income level and had proven he could be relied upon. Being a musician meant Mike was familiar with the hustle of irregular hours and tight schedules, something Sidney and Agnes could relate to, with his night gigs fitting into their routine of working odd shifts. It seemed like Mike understood the importance of meeting his commitments, whether they were to his job, his music, or the apartment he rented.
Though they had learned to be cautious with tenants after a few missteps early on, Mike had proven himself trustworthy. His quiet demeanor, combined with his responsible attitude toward paying rent, made him an excellent addition to the building. There were no issues with noise or complaints, and he maintained the apartment in good condition. He was respectful of the other tenants, especially the flower shop downstairs, and kept to himself most of the time. For a landlord, that was a blessing.
For Sidney and Agnes, the proximity of a reliable business in the building meant a steady stream of foot traffic and visibility, which contributed to the overall stability of the property.
As time went on, Sidney and Agnes kept their fingers crossed that everything would continue smoothly. They knew that owning property could come with its share of surprises—unexpected repairs, changes in the rental market, or shifts in tenants’ circumstances—but they felt confident that with tenants like Mike, they were on the right track. The plan was to keep their finances steady, maintain a stable living environment for their children, and slowly build equity in their property. The plan was to keep their finances steady, maintain a stable living environment for their children, and slowly build equity in their property. With Mike paying rent reliably and their investments in the home paying off over time, they were cautiously optimistic about the future. If they could maintain this balance, they might just weather the financial ups and downs and eventually find themselves in a stronger position.
The situation with Mike Parris had taken an unexpected turn. For the past several months, Mike had been completely out of contact, and Sidney was growing increasingly concerned. It wasn’t like Mike to be unreachable for such a long period, especially considering he had always been reliable in the past. Sidney had left several messages, knocked on the door, and even asked the neighbors if they had seen him, but there was no sign of life from the apartment.
Then came a new issue that added urgency to the situation: the flower shop downstairs, which had been an essential part of their rental property’s income, was having plumbing problems. The drain in the shop had become completely blocked, and the shop owner had reported that water wasn’t draining properly, leaving puddles in the back room.
Given the nature of the business, which involved soil, water, and plant debris, the blockage was likely caused by spilled soil or plant matter clogging the pipes. But Sidney was a cautious landlord and wanted to be sure. If the problem was deeper in the plumbing system, or if it extended into Mike’s apartment, it could lead to bigger issues down the line. As a cautionary action, Sidney wished the Plumber to check higher up the Pipe and into the Apartment Mike was renting. He needed to investigate, as the property owner, if the problem persisted elsewhere. The findings were that the Flower Shop downstairs had spilled a substantial amount of soil into the Drain, and it was determined that this was the cause. But, for Insurance reasons also, Sidney had to check the entire system to be sure. Plus, he wished to speak to Mike to see if he had experienced any Blockages in his apartment above.
Having no success in contacting Mike, and being unsure what the situation was with Mike, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility that there might be plumbing issues in Mike’s unit, too. The plumber arrived and got to work. Sidney watched closely as the plumber first tackled the blocked drain in the flower shop. As expected, the blockage was substantial—large clumps of dirt and organic material from the plants had accumulated, creating a stubborn clog. It was clear that this was the immediate issue, and the plumber was able to clear the blockage quickly. However, Sidney had asked for a more thorough investigation. He didn’t want to miss anything, so the plumber moved on to inspect the pipes leading up into Mike’s apartment.
Sidney wasn’t about to risk further damage to the property, especially when they had so much riding on it. When the plumber checked the lines into Mike’s unit, he found nothing overtly alarming—no immediate signs of a major clog or backup. But Sidney wasn’t completely satisfied just yet. After all, Mike had been unreachable for some time, and he couldn’t help but worry that the situation in the apartment could be worse than it appeared. Sidney asked the plumber to look inside the apartment itself, as the water lines and sewage lines often connected at certain points within the units. What they found when they entered Mike's apartment was more concerning than Sidney had anticipated. The place was eerily quiet—empty of the usual sounds of life. The lights were off, and the apartment had a stale, musty smell that hung in the air. Sidney’s first instinct was that something wasn’t right, and his heart sank as he walked into the kitchen. Sidney picked up Mike’s Telephone in the Apartment and noticed that the line was dead! No Phone service.
He looked around and noticed an odor. The fridge, as it turned out, was full of spoiled food—expired milk, rotting vegetables, and unidentifiable decomposing items. The fridge door had been left ajar, allowing the food to decay, creating a horrific stench. Sidney felt a pang of unease. Had Mike simply abandoned the place without notice? Had something happened to him? Or was there another explanation? Sidney wasn’t sure, but the neglected state of the apartment seemed to suggest that Mike had been gone for quite some time. The plumber, too, seemed uncomfortable with the situation. After checking the plumbing in Mike’s apartment, he confirmed that there didn’t appear to be any blockages or damage in the pipes inside the unit. However, the smell and the decaying food indicated that the apartment had been left unattended for a prolonged period. This was not just an issue of blocked drains—it was now a question of what had happened to Mike.
Sidney decided that he could no longer afford to wait. He needed to know what was going on with Mike, both for the sake of the property and for his own peace of mind. If Mike had simply left without informing anyone, he would need to find a new tenant. But Sidney also worried about more serious possibilities—what if Mike was ill or in some kind of trouble? The situation was becoming more urgent by the day. He knew he had to tread carefully—he didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, as the property owner, he had a responsibility to ensure the safety and upkeep of his building. The last thing Sidney wanted was to discover that Mike was in some kind of distress or danger, and Sidney knew that the longer they waited to address the issue, the more complicated things could become.
The next steps would involve investigating Mike's absence, ensuring that the apartment was properly cleaned and repaired, and dealing potentially with the growing financial pressure of maybe some future missing rental payments? Thus far, the Cheques had been good. Sidney couldn’t ignore the potential damage caused by the prolonged neglect of the apartment either—the spoiled food in the fridge was just the beginning, and any further deterioration could affect the overall condition of the property.
Though Sidney was deeply concerned about Mike’s well-being, he had to balance that concern with the practical realities of managing his rental property. The situation was messy, and there were many unanswered questions, but one thing was clear: Sidney needed answers, and fast. Whether Mike was in trouble or had simply disappeared, Sidney had to take action to protect his property and his family’s investment.
After assessing the situation, Sidney was left with a mix of uncertainty and frustration. He had gone through the motions of investigating the plumbing, as instructed, but found no issues with the system beyond the initial problem in the flower shop. There were no plumbing blockages in Mike’s apartment, and the lines seemed to be clear. That part of the mystery had been resolved.
However, the discovery of the spoiled food in the fridge left Sidney with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The apartment had been left in a state of disrepair that suggested Mike had abandoned it without so much as a word. The smell of decaying food was overwhelming, and though the fridge was still full of rotting perishables—vegetables, milk, meat, and other items—Sidney knew they couldn’t just leave it as it was. He and Agnes, despite their own busy lives, couldn’t ignore the responsibility of maintaining the property, even if Mike was absent.
Sidney took a deep breath and turned to Agnes, who had also noticed the neglected state of the apartment when they had first entered. "We can't just leave it like this," he said quietly, his eyes on the fridge. "We’ll have to clean it up, get rid of everything. It’s not just about the smell; it’s about the condition of the place."
Agnes nodded in agreement, already heading for the cleaning supplies.
“It’s a shame,” she murmured, glancing around. "But I guess we have to handle it ourselves for now. We can’t wait forever to hear from him."
Together, they got to work, carefully clearing out the fridge and throwing away anything that had spoiled. It was a grim job, but it had to be done. The two of them worked efficiently, moving quickly through the apartment. They didn’t want to take too much time away from their own family responsibilities, but they also knew that leaving it would only make the situation worse.
As they cleaned, Sidney couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was going on. Mike had always been reliable, and though his work schedule had been irregular due to his music gigs and full-time job as a furniture restorer, this sudden disappearance felt out of character. Sidney thought back to the few times they’d interacted over the last year. Mike had never seemed the type to simply vanish, especially without a word. Had something happened to him? Or had he just decided to walk away from his obligations without any explanation?
After Agnes helped him clear the fridge, they both tidied up the apartment as best they could, making sure there was no lingering smell. Sidney opened the windows to air out the space and set a fan near the fridge to help with ventilation. The apartment looked cleaner, but there was still an uneasy feeling that lingered in the air, one that Sidney couldn’t quite shake.
Once they had finished, Sidney wrote Mike a note, carefully wording it- but direct in its intention. In his Note, Sidney addressed the issue of the food spoilage, and so he and Agnes removed the rotted materials: Veggies and perishables. And so, they left it at that.
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“Dear Mike,
‘I hope this note finds you well. I wanted to reach out because we’ve noticed that the apartment has been left in a state of neglect, particularly the fridge, which was full of spoiled food. Agnes and I have taken the necessary steps to clean up and dispose of the perishables, but we wanted to bring this to your attention.
As your landlords, we want to ensure that everything is in order, both for your safety and the upkeep of the property. We’ve had no communication from you for some time, and we’re concerned. If you are still planning to stay in the apartment, please reach out to us to let us know. If not, we’d appreciate some clarification on your intentions.
In the meantime, we’ve checked the plumbing and found no further issues beyond the initial blockage in the flower shop, so everything appears to be in working order.
Please get in touch with us as soon as possible. We’d like to resolve this matter quickly and fairly.’
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Mike’s disappearance is no ordinary event.
Unbeknownst to Mike, (who had been abducted), and who ‘was wherever?’ in the minds of his landlords and trapped between two Worlds while existing within a Twilight reality, a provision for a considerable sum of money was left at Sid and Agnes’ address. This was included…. with a Note from an ‘M. Parris’ with a request to ‘Hold’ his Rental Flat, as this amount was intended to cover any ‘Sundry expenses and Inconveniences causing costs’ in the interim of Mike’s absence.
As Sid and Agnes puzzled over the substantial sum of money left in their hands, they couldn’t help but wonder what had truly happened to Mike? The short Note, supposedly left by Mike, was both formal and cryptic, left far more questions than answers. It appears Mike—wherever he was—had arranged for some kind of protection or contingency plan in his absence, but how much did Sid and Agnes really know about the man they rented to? And what exactly were these “sundry expenses” and “inconveniences” that M. Parris had referenced?
The amount left at the Landlords was far more than just a month’s rent, and it had the feel of someone who anticipated trouble or disruption. Could it be that Mike had known something was going to happen to him? Had he somehow planned his own abduction, or worse, had he been forced into hiding for reasons he couldn’t explain? Or last case scenario, some one, or organisation, was covering for him?
Sid, ever the pragmatic one, began to think about the logistics of holding Mike’s flat for him, while Agnes was more concerned about the eerie nature of the whole situation. How was it that this mysterious M. Parris seemed to have known exactly where to leave the money? And why in the world would Mike’s flat need to be “held” at all, as though it were a temporary storage for something far darker?
Meanwhile, somewhere between worlds, Mike himself was trapped in an in-between state—a Twilight Reality where time, space, and even memory no longer made sense. He couldn’t remember when or how he’d been taken, nor could he fathom where he was, but he could feel it. His mind, stretched thin between the realms of the living and the unknown, whispered of things he couldn’t entirely grasp.
Mike would leave his apartment now that he had returned, with the intention of visiting his landlords not too far a walk away. He had read the Note Sid left for him about the bad food in the fridge, his disappearance that concerned Sid and Agnes, and need to re-establish his presence as soon as possible to the two of them. He owed them an Apology. In addition, was his Cheques getting covered? Or was he soon to be Homeless?
Mike left this apartment a mere two streets away in West Kensington, he walked his way to 36a, Archil Road where the Cable Family lived. Mike took a steady breath as he walked down the familiar streets of West Kensington, his boots clicking lightly against the pavement. The evening was cool, the kind of damp chill that settled in after dusk, with a greyish sky threatening rain. It was a small comfort—at least the rain hadn't started yet. He didn't need any more complications today.
His mind raced with what he'd planned to say to the Cable family. He had only a vague understanding of why he’d sought the need to resolve unfinished business and come here today, driven by the urgency of Sidney’s Note. His walk felt longer than it should, and as his destination came into view, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. He didn’t even know if anyone would be home. The last time he’d visited, Mrs. Cable had been there, but that had been months ago. What if they’d moved? He’d discover soon enough.
Just a few more terraced Houses to walk past. Usually, these had a basement with steps going down to a sub-pavement entrance. As well as a stairway going up to a front door. There was usually an upper-level floor too. In modern days, some owners have even renovated with a space-saving addition in their slate roofs to optimize their living areas. Mike finally arrived at Number 36a. Mike hesitated, a flutter of unease making his throat tighten. He paused at the bottom of the Stairs going up, steeling himself for the eight or so, stone steps up to the front door. He wiped his hands on his jacket and rang the doorbell.
‘Ding-dong’.
He waited. No answer.
He pressed the doorbell again, this time a little longer. His mind raced. Maybe someone had gone out, maybe they weren’t home—there were a thousand reasons why no one would answer. Yet, he felt this peculiar pull to stay. He wasn’t ready to give up on this connection, not yet. Not when everything felt so fragile.
The sound echoed oddly in the quiet, as though it was being absorbed by the surrounding buildings. The short walk afforded Mike the time to consider what he will say when he arrives. Hopefully, somebody is at home there as if not, all this would be for nought.
Mike observed a form moving silently towards to inside of the door, and a voice erupted from inside…
“Who is it?”, a female’s voice inquired.
“It is I, your Renter, Mike Parris”, Mike replied.
The door quickly opened, and it was Agnes Cable staring at Mike, mouth agape.
“WHERE have you been, we’ve been worried sick!?”, she asked.” And what’s up with all the extra Money you are giving us? The Liscombe Benevolence Fund, what is all that about?!”
“Hello Agnes, I’m not sure myself…I pay with the Post-dated Cheques, that’s all…” Mike explained.
“
“Agnes, it’s a long story. I can’t stay on this visit long as I’ve other people to see, but I’ve been working up in the Midlands and had to leave unexpectedly”.
Mike was careful to stick to his story while providing as rational an explanation as possible.
“Would you like to come in dear? How rude of me” Agnes offered ruefully.
“Thanks, but no Agnes, I have other places and people to see today, so I want to make this short. I am heading back North again for more work, helping a Family member, but if you would please keep the Apartment for me the Cheques will be good. I won’t let you down again.” Mike assured.
Until Mike knew his financial position, he could not be certain he could keep his word. But somehow, these Landlords were getting ‘over-payments’?? As long as this continued, if his own cash account ran dry, at least there is additional Funds to draw from to cover his Rent Payments.
Agnes continued to press Mike to come inside. She wanted more information from him. He had some explaining to do. Mike nodded, though the weight of Agnes’s words lingered in his chest. He had barely made it to the front door of her and Sid’s flat before she was bombarding him with questions, some of which he wasn’t sure he could answer. He tried to give the impression that everything was under control, but his deflection only seemed to make Agnes more uneasy.
“I thought I could make you a quick cuppa and you can tell me what you’ve been doing. And how we can get a hold of you if we must in the future? Your Phone seems to be out of order?” Agnes pressed.
“Well, not currently Agnes, I’ll get in touch after I restore my Phone service- I guess I forgot to pay it? I really must see my old Boss right away and go by my Bank to check on my Finances before I decide to go and help my aunt in Wales with a job up there.” Mike emphasized the Wales angle, trying to steer the conversation toward something that might feel more… normal. And the day is growing later, my Fridge is empty Agnes, so don’t fret”.
Agnes, though still visibly worried, seemed to soften.
“Well, Wales is nice,” she said, her tone taking on a wistful, maternal quality. “We thought someone had done you in, dear.” She paused, folding her arms across her chest. “The plumber checked your drains upstairs. The problem was with the flower shop below, not your pipes. But that extra money… Mike, we don’t understand. What’s it for?” He glanced at her, unsure how to respond.
The question hung in the air between them, dense with unspoken implications. The money was a mystery to both of them, and despite his best efforts to downplay its significance, Agnes wasn’t letting it go. Her words, gentle yet firm, resonated with a strange urgency. Mike wasn’t sure if it was just her motherly concern, or something deeper—a suspicion that lingered in the back of his mind. Was it possible Agnes knew more than she let on? Or was she just another person caught in the web of Mike’s increasingly bizarrely adventurous life?
“I’ll explain later, Agnes,” he said, trying to smile. “Right now, I really need to get going.” Agnes’s expression wavered between concern and confusion.
“We are unhappy, Mike. You’re leaving again without giving us some answers. We won’t keep you, of course, but you can’t just disappear like that without letting us know what’s going on, or if we’ll see you again. What’s really going on, love?”
“Well, don’t worry too much. I’ll keep in touch once I sort a few things out. I really must be off,” Mike said, backing toward the steps.
“Well, I won’t keep you Duck, Wales is nice. Righty there dear, well do take care and all the best in Wales.” Agnes seemed deflated. Agnes sighed and gestured toward the street. “You know where we live, Mike. You can always drop us a line. And I’ll let Sid know you came by. We thought someone had done you in dear. We don’t understand what this extra money is for. You must tell us. Well, all the best then, and I guess we’ll be hearing from you soon? We ARE unhappy you are going away again without some better answers. Drop us a line, you know where we live, and I’ll let Sid know you came by.” Agnes pointed to the House Number above,”36a, Archil Road”, she reminded him.
“Thank you, Agnes, it will be okay. If all goes well, I’ll pack tonight and be off tomorrow.” Mike’s gaze lingered for a moment on the old brass number “36a” above the door. Something about it struck him as oddly significant, but the thought was fleeting. The day was already growing later, and he needed to move quickly. As he stepped down the stairs, he could hear Agnes’s voice calling after him one last time.
“Don’t be a stranger, Mike. Be careful. You’re not the same as when you left.”
Her words echoed in his ears as he made his way back to the street. He had told her nothing, and she had let him leave without asking any more questions. But Mike wasn’t sure if that meant he had escaped, or if it only meant she was playing her part in a much bigger game.
“Thanks Agnes, say hello to Sid from me.” Said Mike.
“Will do…. talk to you when we talk to you. “Agnes replied.
“Okay- I’d best be off.” Mike concluded.
With that, he went down the remaining Stairs as Agnes closed her front door behind him. And that was that. Not so bad a meeting.
Mike was quite pleased with himself for touching base with the Landlords had been an easy meeting. Time to swing by his ex-Boss next.
Mike felt a strange sense of relief as he left the Cable family’s flat behind. The brief interaction with Agnes, though tense, had gone smoothly enough. For a moment, he had convinced himself that things were, perhaps, under control again. But as he stepped onto the bus for the ride to Tring Cabinetry Ltd., the familiar gnawing anxiety returned, tugging at the back of his mind.
Charlie Tring. That name echoed in his thoughts like a broken record, each time bringing with it the same unease. Mike had always known that his time at the company was temporary—he’d only ever thought of it as a stopgap job, a way to make ends meet before he could get on with his life. He pondered what awkward questions he would have to face at this next meet up? Charlie was a fair sort of a man; however, Mike had assumed he had been fired by now and was feeling anxious about how Charlie would treat him. He was expecting an unpleasant reception from Charlie.
Charlie Tring had been Mike's employer for two years, but Mike wasn’t sure he had ever really belonged there. The firm, ’Tring Cabinetry Ltd’, was basically a Cabinet assembly plant, which involved little or no major brainpower or talent to do. His job itself had been basic assembly line work, the sort of repetitive labor that required little thought. He had spent his days measuring and constructing cabinets, an exercise in mind-numbing routine. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills. It had been a fair job in a pinch.
He’d assumed for months that he’d been fired, that Charlie had found someone else to replace him. If so, he had deserved it. It wasn’t a stretch; Mike had disappeared without a word. No phone calls, no letters, no explanation. Just a brief absence that stretched into weeks, and then months. He’d expected the worst when he finally showed up. He was prepared for Charlie’s disappointment, maybe even anger. He had deserved to be fired, after all. He hadn’t exactly been the most reliable employee before his disappearance.
He had worked there roughly for the two years before his strange encounter in the Foot Tunnel had changed his life’s trajectory in the most unusual turn ever. Mike knew, though, that this visit was necessary. He needed to tie up the loose ends of his old life before moving on—whatever “moving on” meant anymore. Could he just go back to a life like before? A life of simple, routine work at Tring’s? No, he couldn’t. Not after what had happened, what he had seen. Not after everything that was happening now, or was all this the result of a terrible dream, maybe a Brain Tumor playing cruel tricks in his head? In a nutshell, Mike had not missed working at Tring’s.
Walking down the High Street, the Bus Route into Fulham’s depressed area awaited him. After his meeting, it’s a return Bus back to West Kensington and onto his Bank. The loose change Mike had in a cupboard drawer back in his Apartment was useful for his Bus fares. He had no more than Thirty-five Pounds, but he’d been burning through this on Beers at the ‘Ten Bells’ Pub. He has much to ponder as he reached the High Street and made his way to the required Bus Stop to see Charlie.
Having to wait no more that ten minutes, along came the Number 117 Bus, taking the Route he needed. Having the exact change for his fare, Mike settled down at a window seat on the bottom deck of this Double-decker Bus. Taking note of new Passengers, a Fare conductor would momentarily be collecting his Fare and issue them their Ticket, following the Collections of the Fares. The Meter hanging on a strap around the Conductor’s neck would chew out a Ticket the moment the Conductor turned a Handle on the Meter. Once paid, Mike could now relax into his ride….and he shortly drifted into a half-snooze…
……The Bus ride over to Tring’s was through a particularly rough neighbourhood, Mike had never enjoyed working in that area. As the bus clattered through the rougher sections of town, Mike’s gaze wandered out the window. The streets here had always been grim—run-down buildings, dodgy shops, and faded billboards advertising things that no one in their right mind would trust. Mike hated this neighborhood. He hated the dull gray of the buildings, the smell of stale oil in the air, and the constant hum of the factory equipment echoing through the district. It was hard to believe that this dreary place had been his world for so long. He hadn’t missed it, not in the least. It had never felt like home. His mind was relaxing as his tense shoulders settled into his Seat.
…. As the Bus travelled down the road, it passed building sites where old Victorian Row housing was being torn down to make way for more modern, soulless facades and Office blocks. Housing for People were making way for Businesses, livelihoods were vanishing, in turn being replaced by commercial prospecting and opportunity. The broken glass in the gutters and roadside torn-off billboards seemed like ghostly reminders of a once vibrant community. The demographics were changing as the older population declined and died off. Newer populations were coming in, a breed that had never dwell on the sacrifices and trials made by others of Sixty years earlier. Of a time when people were more unified in their Souls and purpose. When the local people went to churches and cared about the health and vitality of their communities, and ethnically and ethically, they all appeared alike. Their Human experience was a shared one.
…… Mike had now fallen into a fitful half-sleep and had dreamed of packs of starving Dogs. Of Drug Dealers and Prostitutes, of groups of young men—drunken and stupid, acted like imbeciles when trying to cross at inter-sections. An Empire now of broken Glass and crumbling Bricks. Hope lies lost on the ground.
The song by The WHO ‘The Goods Gone’ runs through Mike’s mind.
Awoken abruptly by the ringing of a Bell close to Mike’s head, ‘Bing, Bing’. Ah! It was someone behind him wishing to get off at the next Stop. They had pulled one of the two Cables that run along both sides of the Bus that alerts the Driver to pull into the next Bus stop. Shit! Mike had overshot his Bus stop by one and now had to walk back some way to Tring’s. Not very clever of him.
It was a short walk, and gave Mike the time he needed to mentally prepare to meet Charlie, if he were even there?
Rounding a corner past the stop he missed, Mike entered down a small side road, Abbott’s Lane. There halfway down, was the old Tring Furniture Factory, which had been started by Charlie’ Father during World War 2. Back in those times, the company had been making wooden interiors for Quonset Huts for the War effort, as used by the British Army. Many businesses had been re-adapted and converted to manufacture components and equipment for the Defence Industry. Saucepans to Spitfires! Suits to Uniforms, Tring’s was no different.
All at once, a Window flew open from a Room on the second Floor above Mike, and a beaming Charlie Tring was yelling at him….
“WELL LOOK WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN…MIKE PARRIS. WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?” Shouted an inquiring Charlie.
Looking up at a surprisingly beaming Charlie Tring, Mike replied.
“YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE ME IF I TOLD YOU CHARLIE! -CAN I COME UP?” Mike blurted back. He was not a fan of shouting.
“NO! I’LL BE DOWN THERE IN A MOMENT. I HAVE A FEW THINGS I’D LIKE TO ASK YOU—WAIT THERE!” …
Oh! Oh! Mike thought, here it comes. Mike was very anxious he’d be getting a blast from Charlie but was taken aback by his apparent good spirits at seeing him.
About a minute later, Charlie came out of his ground level Office door and began walking towards Mike. He we go, the moment of truth, Mike thought nervously.
“What’s this ‘Liscombe Benevolence Fund’ Bullshit, Mike? What have you been up to?” Charlie shot out. Charlie seemed to be waiting for a response, his eyes wide with what looked like genuine curiosity—and maybe a little bit of fear.
This information came like a bolt out of the blue to Mike’s Ears. His Mind was racing. Not a chance!? Not again! What the hell?! Mike stood frozen for a moment, trying to process the rapid-fire words coming from Charlie, whose excitement seemed to increase with every sentence. The sheer absurdity of it all left Mike feeling dizzy. Liscombe Benevolence Fund? Mike answered Charlie….
“
“
So, I contacted your landlord…er…what’s his name…Sid. He said he hadn’t heard from you either, but that your Rent was good so far. And you’d sent post-dated Cheques for at the least Six Months. You had even sent him ADDITIONAL Money too!? Then IT happened!” Charlie was stammering out his words and increasingly getting excited.
“What happened Charlie?” Mike asked.
“The LETTER, and these ‘Donations’ began from THAT Fund I mentioned….AND Work Orders from them…to make storage Cupboards…for Guitars? A LOT OF THEM!” Charlie continued.” I was ’instructed’ to keep your Job open. Naturally, I had to fill your position with a replacement worker on the floor but kept you on the Record as still being my Employee. Basically, after you failed to show up, my Business has been BOOMING!” Charlie proudly stated, and he continued…. Mike was in shock. Storage cupboards for guitars? His rent paid, post-dated cheques for months, and an extra chunk of money sent to Sid, his landlord? Charlie’s words hit Mike like a barrage of disconnected images, each one more confusing than the last. What had started as a simple meeting with his former boss was spiraling into something much larger than he could have ever expected. His hands felt clammy, his throat dry. He didn’t even know where to begin. What was going on? Mike blinked, trying to get his bearings.
"Wait... you’re telling me that someone from this... Liscombe Benevolence Fund is sending you work orders? And that they’ve been paying my rent, sending additional money to Sid... for months?"
"Yes!" Charlie exclaimed, now practically vibrating with energy. "And not just for months, Mike—months! This is a very big order Mike, who are these Liscombe Fund people anyway? I can barely keep up!” " He rubbed his hands together, a bit of nervous laughter bubbling in his chest. Charlie re-counted the sudden, unexplained influx of funds that they couldn’t understand. It seemed to be linked to the same mysterious source—this Liscombe Benevolence Fund. But who were these people? What did they want with him? Why was Charlie involved? And why had he, Mike, been the one to receive all this unexpected attention?
Mike’s reply was as confused as his mind was racing at this news.
“Liscombe? I don’t honestly know Charlie, believe me. I know they have been helping my landlords too…I have just come from seeing one of them. Everyone is scratching their heads about this it would seem-especially me!” Mike was stunned, he continued…how big an Order may I ask?” Charlie was smiling.
"You were gone, right? So, I just kept everything going, just as normal—just in case. But then, bam, the Orders started coming in. Big orders. Lots of guitars, they said—needed special storage for 'em. I’ve been working day and night, making custom cabinets for guitars. And the money, Mike. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like someone’s pumping cash into my business, like I’m some kind of... of... well, I don’t know, asset or something!" He chuckled, as if all of this had become a bit too much for him to fully grasp.
Mike’s mind was in a whirl.
“HOW BIG are these Orders Charlie?” Mike repeated more impatient.
“Oh! I don’t usually discuss my contracts with Employees, but in your case, as this is to do with yourself…a couple of Hundred”. Charlie said grinning.
“A couple of hundred quid Charlie, that isn’t much”. Mike inquired.
“No, a couple of hundred THOUSAND quid Mike! …for now!! Money up front too. I cannot believe it Mike! This is a lot of money…for Guitar Storage, or whatever? But someone is willing to pay for this, with Instructions, Dimensions, wood type- the lot. Really bizarre. But the money, well who am I to argue with this windfall!” Charlie gushed. “It all started when you left, and it is in your name?! Did you win BIG on a Lottery draw or something Mike? What the hell man? Liscombe Benevolence Fund? More like the Charles N. Tring Benevolence Fund!” Mike was bowled over.
Mike looked at Charlie, whose face was still flushed with excitement, but now tinged with something else concern, maybe, or fear?
“Charlie, I…have been away, yes. I had to leave in a hurry. I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t sent anything to you. I’ve been… gone. I had a Family Emergency, of a sort, up North. I don’t know what’s been going on, but whatever this Fund is, it’s not coming from me. I’ve had no control over it, none of this makes any sense!” I plan to head to Wales to help my aunt next”. Mike explained. He continued, “I have not been feeling well of late, but more is becoming clear to me. I have been travelling and playing some good old Rock ’n’ Roll with some new friends, to a very different audience lately, so perhaps they have some wealthy friends who approve of us?” Mike surmised. His eyes searching around as fresh recollected thoughts came to mind. “I have been to a place and seen many hundreds of Guitars, but no storage for them. Just leaning up against walls and laying on the ground, it isn’t how I would leave them.” Mike’s memory was digging deep.
Charlie gave him an incredulous look.
“You're telling me you didn’t send all that money to your landlord? You didn’t send post-dated checks for months, pay your rent, and order a shitload of custom guitar cabinets from me? Are you up to ‘no good’ Mike? Involved with the Drug trade or something. Even Stock Markets?” Charlie replied very perplexed. “Like, where is all this money coming from, is some group or the other laundering it—through you?” Charlie shot Mike a suspicious look now.
“No! I think not, it’s legit as far as I can tell Charlie. The post-dated Landlord cheques, yes. But I don’t understand how they are getting covered as I have not been earning any Money. That is why I must get over to my Bank and see what has been happening in my account there. This is my next job today, finding answers to this enigma of a situation.”
Mike shook his head, trying to push the panic down in his chest.
“No, I didn’t send any of that. I don’t even know where this Fund is coming from, but it sounds like it’s connected to my name, somehow. I don’t know who they are, or what they want with me.” His voice shook despite his best efforts to stay calm. “Charlie, you need to tell me everything you know about this Fund—now. This isn’t just some coincidence.”
Charlie looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time, his eyes narrowing. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair, visibly thrown by the confusion. After a pause, he said,
“Alright, alright. Let me think. So, when I realized you weren’t coming back, I checked up on you—called Sid, right? And he tells me you’ve been paying your rent, you’ve been sending checks, but there’s extra money—like you’ve been paying up in advance, well beyond what you owe. So, I start asking around, trying to figure out what’s going on with you.” He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to recall every detail.
Mike thought back to the money left at Sid and Agnes’s apartment. Mike recounted his meeting with Agnes to Charlie and mentioned to him that he had not been doing much in the ways of financial transactions over the past few months. So, he was even more confused than perhaps Charlie was at this point. All point lead to him, and he needs to find out why, and what this craziness is all about?
“The first letter I got from this Fund was a formal notice, telling me to keep your job open”. Charlie continued, “It was signed by someone named L. Liscombe. I thought it was odd, but it was clear: They wanted to keep everything as is. They paid for your rent in full, no problem. But then came the second letter, Mike. The order—that order.” Charlie’s voice dropped slightly as he spoke the last part.
Mike frowned, his brain spinning. “The guitar cabinets?”
Charlie nodded; his face serious. “Yeah. Storage units for guitars. A lot of them. Enough to fill half my workshop. And the thing is, Mike, this order came through, no contact, no face-to-face. Just money. And I don’t know who’s behind it, but they’re serious.”
Mike’s eyes widened. "This is insane. You’re telling me… someone’s been paying my rent, sending you huge orders, and I have no idea who they are?"
“Exactly," Charlie replied, looking increasingly uneasy. "And the worst part is—I kept your name on the payroll as if you were still working here. I figured, I don’t know, maybe you were taking a long holiday, maybe there was something personal going on, but after the first month, I knew something was up. Then, all these extra payments started coming in, and I got more letters from this Liscombe Fund. I’ve never heard of them before. No contact information. No nothing. Just... money. Big money."
Mike’s stomach turned as he absorbed this new piece of information. Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes, orchestrating his life without him even knowing it. But why? Why him? And what was the end game here?
Charlie continued, almost as if talking to himself now,
“Look, I don’t know if I should be worried about this or not. My business has been booming since I started filling those orders. But there’s something wrong about all of this. They’re paying me like a contractor—not like a client. It's like I’m working for them without ever having seen them.”
Mike swallowed hard. His mind was spinning with possible explanations, none of them comforting. A benevolent Fund? Paying for his rent, sending money to Sid, sending work orders for guitar cabinets... He needed answers. He had to find out who was behind all of this, because nothing about it felt right. Mike looked Charlie straight in the eye, trying to push the unease aside.
“You’ve got to keep me updated, Charlie. If you get any more letters, any more orders from them, you must tell me. This isn’t just about the business anymore, it’s about something bigger than that.”
Charlie paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then nodded.
“Alright, alright, I’ll keep you posted. But Mike… this thing has got me spooked. Be careful. Whoever’s behind this Fund, they’ve got more control over things than we can see. I don’t like it.”
Mike nodded slowly, his thoughts whirling. He had no idea who these people were, or what their connection to him was, but they were clearly pulling the strings in ways he couldn’t understand. They were controlling his life, his finances, and now—apparently—his future. And he was going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.
As he turned to leave the factory, Charlie’s voice called after him,
“Mike—don’t disappear again. I’m serious. I wish you the very best of luck in your search at the Bank today, Mike. Whatever you are doing, it sure is working well for us here! I’ll keep you on the books, for Tax reasons too…but you must stay in touch so as it can help with my accounting unless I am audited. I’ll need to do some explaining, you understand that, right?”
“Yes Charlie, I will do my best to stay in touch and keep you ‘In the Loop’ as much as I can unravel the truth that is.” Mike re-assured Charlie. “The Bank should be an interesting experience for me-I’ll maybe get some answer there too?”
“Like I said, whatever you are doing, keep it up! If you can update me once in a bit, stay well away! Charlie smiled.” I don’t mean that disrespectfully, but shortly after you left, my fortune here changed massively. I can’t explain it- and neither can you too apparently…but it is certainly working well for us here.”
“Yes, it has been a bit of a rush for me too, and my Music buddies. We’re just playing Cover Songs and its not like we have an Album out, full of original material with a huge Record deal, is it?” Mike smiling.
Charlie looked at him now, and his face dropped slightly. Like he was reading some ‘Hint’ Mike was alluding to.
“
“
“Life works in the most unusual, and sometimes fortuitous ways doesn’t it, Mike?” Charlie said wisely. “Sometimes it is best not to rock the boat too much and wreck a good thing-correct?” stated Charlie, looking Mike squarely in the eyes.
“You have me there Charlie, why spoil a good thing! Mike concurred. “I must be off now, I ‘m itching to hear what my Bank has to say to me.”
“Cheerio for now!” Charlie said loudly.” Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and—watch your back Mike!”
“I’ll see you around Charlie.” Mike stated.
Mike was somewhat feeling grounded in the company of a man who has every good wish, friendly advice and positive demeanor for him. Mike almost regretted not spending more time with him. He extended his right hand towards Charlie for a Handshake. Charlie met his hand with his own and covered Mike’s hand with both of his own, saying…” Be safe Mike.” Mike nodded in reply. The two exchanged strong eye contacts in farewell. Mike then turned and walked away.
------------------------------
Barely an hour later, Mike stood outside his Bank, The National Lloydminster Trustee Savings Bank.
Mike took a deep breath as he approached the bank’s counter. The polished marble floors gleamed beneath his feet, and the air smelled faintly of coffee and polished wood. The bank was busy, but not overwhelmingly so, with a few customers scattered around, waiting in line or speaking to the tellers. A bright overhead light flickered briefly as he stepped up to the wicket, and Mike felt a pang of unease in his stomach. After the strange conversations with Charlie and his landlord, he had no idea what to expect here. But it can’t hurt to try, he thought.
The past two meetings of this day had gone beyond belief and ended in not at all what Mike had expected them to be. Would this experience be as pleasant? His Cheques hadn’t ‘Bounced’- that much is a great thing. Mike had no appointment with any Bank Manager here. One problem was that his Telephone had been cut off, presumably for non-payment of a Bill to the Phone company? So, who knows? He suspected that much will be revealed here. Mike went into the front door and walked on up to a Teller’s wicket desk. He had only scant Identification he could locate. Having a Library Card, and an expired Bus Pass. Mike did have with him his Bank Account Booklet however, so this ought to be sufficient. It required updating.
Walking up to a smiling, friendly Southeast Asian female Bank assistant with short dark hair, a welcoming smile, and about Mike’s age, she greeted him cheerfully as he reached the counter. Mike began his inquiry.
“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you today?”
Mike smiled back, though it felt more like a nervous twitch.
“Hi, um... I need to check on my account. I’m Mike Parris.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m just here to make sure everything is... alright. I’ve been a bit out of touch for a while and I’ve been away working and playing Music, and now I’m back in my area. I’d like to check my Account Balance, and (Mike extending his Account Book) may I get an update on transactions too please, he replied politely.
“Certainly Sir.”
The girl took the Booklet from Mike’s right hand. Mike noted she wore a name tag, ’Jasi’. Jasi was wearing a light blue Turtlenecked sweater, and a Pearl Necklace hung from around her neck. She wore little make-up, and didn’t really need any as naturally pretty to behold. Her face was well rounded, and she wore purple Lipstick. Her hair was cut short, to just above her shoulders and even. Jasi had a neat fringe hairstyle that framed a set of large, green eyes. Mike found her instantly attractive.
“May I see some I.D please, sir?” said Jasi breaking Mike’s spell.
“Oh yes, of course. All I have is my expired Bus Pass and my Library Card—look, see”. Mike pointing at a faded picture of himself upon it.” See, that’s me”.
The teller raised an eyebrow, her smile still intact, but she glanced at his hands and then at the scant identification he’d managed to bring with him: his library card and expired bus pass. She made a quick scan of her screen, typing rapidly.
“Okay, Mr. Parris, I’ll just need to verify some details before I can pull up your account.” Jasi looked at Mike’s face for what he thought was a long, awkward moment, their eyes meeting. Mike felt a bead of sweat form on the back of his neck. His ID wasn’t exactly standard—nothing from the past few months except for a bank booklet and a couple of cards that weren’t very helpful. He’d been caught in the whirlwind of his own confusion and hadn’t even thought to keep track of the basics. She pulled a little smirk, and said…
“That will do nicely, sir”. The teller looked at the screen, her fingers pausing mid-air, her expression flickering for just a moment before it was masked with professionalism again.
“It’s been a while since you've accessed your account, Mr. Parris... Are you sure you remember your PIN?”
Mike nodded, his heart racing.
“Yeah, I should. I just need to update some things.”
The young woman tapped a few more keys, glanced at her screen, then looked back at him.
“Alright, Mr. Parris, I’ve got your account here.” She paused. “It’s an interesting situation. There are recent deposits... quite a few, actually. Some larger-than-usual transfers. Your account seems to be in a much better position than we’d expect, given your regular activity.” Mike felt his heart skip a beat. Larger-than-usual transfers? This was the moment he’d been dreading, but also hoping for. Could this be related to the mysterious Liscombe Benevolence Fund?
“Do you know the source of these deposits?” the teller asked, looking at him curiously. “The last few months... You’ve received a considerable amount from an account linked to an outside source, but there’s no name attached. Just... an institution, labeled as Liscombe Benevolence Fund.” Her voice dropped just slightly, as if the name meant something to her, but she quickly masked it.
“Benevolence Fund!” Mike blurted out—in perfect timing with Jasi’s voice. Mike’s head snapping up.
“You have head of it before then, sir?” asked Jasi.
"What did you say?" he stammered; his voice almost hoarse.
“The Liscombe Benevolence Fund, sir?” she repeated.
“Oh! Yes…. All day long, it is a lengthy story”. His words came out faster than he could control. He tried to clear his throat and regain composure. “I, uh, I wasn’t aware of any Fund—and certainly didn’t authorize any transfers.”
The teller’s face softened a bit as she regarded him.
“I can understand your surprise. It’s certainly an unusual name. The Fund appears to be... covering some of your expenses. Rent, a few other payments. It seems that they’ve also been making periodic contributions to your account over the past few months.”
Mike took a step back, feeling lightheaded. He thought of Sid, who had mentioned the extra money, and Charlie, who’d referred to this Fund like it was a known entity, just sending orders and payments into his life without his consent or knowledge.
“This is... I don’t know what to say,” Mike said slowly, his hands slightly trembling. “Could I see a record of these deposits? Can you... show me more details?”
The teller hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“I’m afraid I can’t provide full details of the deposits, just for privacy and security reasons. But if you'd like, I can give you a summary of the transactions or provide a formal statement.” She gave him an apologetic look, “If you'd like to follow up on it, you may need to make an appointment with a branch manager, especially since the source of these funds seems to be private. For now, I can update your account booklet for you”. Jasi offered.
Mike clenched his jaw, trying to gather his thoughts. His instincts screamed that he was about to uncover something major—and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it. But there was no turning back. He needed answers.
“Please, just the summary will be fine,” he said, voice tight but determined.
Jasi placed his Account booklet into a machine on a nearby countertop. Folding it as to be open, then slowly fed it into the device which tapped with printed lettering and numbers, sequenced in lines and columns by Transaction dates, with a Typer inside of this machine. In a few moments it was all over.
The teller nodded and quickly printed out a statement, then handed it over. Mike grabbed it from her with a trembling hand, his gaze fixated on the line items.
Liscombe Benevolence Fund Deposit
Amount: £10,000 (multiple deposits)
Date: Ongoing – last deposit two days ago
Purpose: “Living Expenses” and “Miscellaneous Support”
Jasi taken out the Booklet and handed it back to Mike. Mike took back his Booklet and examined the update. His mouth dropped open, and eyes went wide. The last transactions had been made in person were over five months ago. Since that time, he has had lump sum amounts in Cheque form deposited monthly. TEN THOUSAND Pounds every month!? Mike had not exactly been living Pay cheque to Pay cheque with his Job at Tring’s Furniture. Plus add in the Gigs, and he already had almost five thousand in this account the months before.
Mike slowly folded the statement back and placed it carefully in his coat pocket. He looked at the teller, who seemed to be waiting for him to respond.
"Is there anything else I should know? Is there a way to find out more about the Liscombe Benevolence Fund? Could I... could I speak with someone about it?"
The teller shrugged.
“I’m afraid the Fund is listed as anonymous, sir. But perhaps the manager will have more insight if you book an appointment with them.” Mike’s frustration was mounting. He didn’t have the time to wait for an appointment with some bank manager. Whoever was behind this Fund was pulling strings in his life, and he had to get to the bottom of it.
“Alright. I’ll follow up later. Thank you.”
Not surprisingly, there were the regular withdrawals for his Rent, and the only other transactions that have happened were several small monthly Service Fees charged by this Bank, but then there were these colossal Ten-Thousand-pound deposits each month in Cheques. Mike was mystified to say the least. The amounts varied, and they appeared as regular payments over the past few months. His stomach churned with every line he read. There was a reference to “Living Expenses” but nothing concrete about the source or who was behind it. There was no contact information. No names. The deeper he dug, the more questions there were. And the more he realized, the more the mystery of the Liscombe Benevolence Fund had entangled itself with every aspect of his life.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?” asked an alerted Jasi seeing the look on Mike’s face.
“Well…I just don’t know why these large deposits are there….er.…Jasi”, said Mike looking at her name tag.
“May I see again, sir?” Jasi offered her hand to receive Mike’s Booklet back. He handed it to her saying,
“These are Cheque deposits, right?” Mike asked. Jasi looked at the Booklet.
“Yes sir, these are incoming Cheque deposits, you are not sure who these are from then?”
“Er, No! I have a fulltime job, as you may see further back up the book. Usually, a few Hundred pounds… the other deposits are Gig money. But I’ve not been at my job for months now, and the Music?! Well… it doesn’t pay ten thousand pounds a month that is for sure, so I’m confused.”
“Hmm?” uttered a puzzled Jasi. Mike continued….
“Take these five withdrawals around the first of each month, these are my landlord’s rent payments, I posted-dated them”. Mike explained.
“I’ll tell you what sir, I’ll run this over to my manager to check the records on these Cheques for you, and let you know who they’re from, will this help you?”
“Yes, indeed, if you can do this for me, I’d be very grateful.”
“I can do that, please give me a couple minutes, sir…”
…” Mike! he added for her.
“Yes, Mike”. Jasi echoed.
She wandered over to a middle-aged lady at a nearby office desk, giving her Mike’ booklet. The older woman glanced over at Mike then took the Booklet from Jasi, and placed it into a similar Machine, then began presumably looking at his account records on a rudimentary Computer screen. Mike looked about the Bank, and found himself watching how other customers were behaving. The time was getting later in the afternoon, and Mike could sense the anticipation from some staff members as closing time was fast approaching. After a few minutes, Jasi returned and said…
“Sir, the Cheques were sent by the Liscombe…Benevolence Fund”.
Mike mirrored Jasi’s answer perfectly matching every syllable. “Benevolence Fund” …
“So, you have heard of these people before then?”, Jasi Inquired.
“OHHH! Yes”, he verified.
He leaned towards Jasi as she handed him back his Booklet. Mike looked right-then left, then offered.
“These people are sending extra money to my landlords to KEEP my Flat. AND to my Boss- to KEEP me on file. AND ordered a mass of Guitar storage cases that have boosted his Business to no end?! And NOW THESE…Ten Thousands?!? I need a Drink, Jasi!”.
“Oh! Dear sir, …er…Mike. I might be inclined to join you, with friends such as these”.
“Sounds like a good plan Jasi!” Mike agreed. “I know the owner of the ‘Ten Bells Pub’-Glenn. I’ve gotten quite friendly with him. I’ll be there at Six o-clock!” Mike continued…” Can I withdraw three hundred pounds please.” Mike handed back Jasi his booklet.
“I hope to be catching a Train to Wales in a couple of days time- So, I’ll need some money for a Ticket.”
“Okay sir, I’ll get you your cash- will big Bills be, okay?” Jasi checked.
“It doesn’t matter, a couple of hundreds and the rest in smaller notes, cheers!”
“Just give me a mo, Mike.” Jasi said.
Returning with the Bank notes, and handing back his account statement Booklet, Jasi began counting back the Cash to Mike.
“I’ve updated your account booklet also; will this be all today? - One One Hundred, Two One Hundred AND Two Hundred. One Twenty, two Twenty, three Twenty, four Twenty, five Twenty—that makes Three Hundred, Mike. Will this be all today?
“Ha! I think so. It has been quite enough for today, Jasi”, Mike murmured. “Much more of a day, than I ever expected it to be.” Mike shot Jasi a smile. As he turned to leave….”’The Ten Bells’, Huh?” Mike just smiled and tarted to walk away. Replying…
“First, I’m going for some Fish and Chips, I’m Famished.”
“Good luck sir.” said Jasi.
“Good meeting you Jasi, thanks for all your help!”
“My pleasure, Mike.” Jasi said quietly.
Mike left the Bank, looking at a Clock on a wall by the exit door. It was almost 4pm. He stepped out of the bank into the crisp afternoon air, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the heat building in his chest. He paused for a moment, glancing around the busy street as the weight of the day’s events settled over him. The mystery of the Liscombe Benevolence Fund, the strange letters, the unexpected deposits—it all felt like one big puzzle with pieces he couldn’t quite fit together yet.
One step at a time, he reminded himself.
He needed some time to absorb all this information today, as his mind was racing thoughts. His stomach growled again, reminding him that despite everything, he was human and needed food. The thought of a juicy hamburger, warm and satisfying, sounded like the perfect way to quiet his nerves for a while. Maybe two hamburgers, if he was being honest with himself. This was the most money he had held in his hands in many months. With a small sigh, Mike pushed his hands into his coat pockets and walked down the street, his thoughts still swirling. But as he passed a corner, a familiar spot caught his eye—the bright neon sign of The Ten Bells, a pub he frequented occasionally, with a new friend inside-Publican Glenn.
Hooking up with Glenn once again, to share this news with this eager Ear at this London Pub. Being tactful to don’t mention the lump sums, Mike thought as he pushed open the door to the pub. It was busy enough for a Thursday afternoon, but still quiet enough to hear the soft murmur of conversation and clink of pint glasses. The warm, dim lighting and familiar atmosphere felt like a small comfort after the whirlwind of strange events he’d faced. As would a cold Pint of Lager.
Tomorrow he will seek out his friend Mark Evans’ girlfriend Kate, at the Salon where Mark said that she worked at. Or worked at? The last thread of loose ends he feels destined and compelled to tie up. For tomorrow, will be another day.