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Authors: Calvin Wade

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BOOK: Forever Is Over
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Charlie
,

God knows where you have disappeared to, but give me a ring at
work to let me know that you are OK. There

s a pork pie in the fridge
for your lunch. Don

t forget to put the tea in, like I told you last night.

Love Dot xxx.

 

Panic was beginning to set in. I k
ept talking to myself, telling
myself to keep calm, panic in the mor
ning when all avenues had been
explored and I still did not have the six grand. Deal with everything in bite size chunks, I told myself, firstly ring
Dot, tell her that you are OK,
then once that

s out the way, scour the hou
se for money, building society
passbooks or anything else that is potentially worth a few quid.

Dot was easily comforted. As a ga
mbler, I was used to having to
create stories to explain unusual absences, so just rang her and m
atter-
of-factly told her that I had wandered
down to the newsagents to pick
up a few newspapers, then, as it had b
een a beautiful morning, I had
decided to take myself down to the p
ark, sit on a bench and have a
pleasant read in the early morning sun.
Dot was only half listening,
there were probably things going on in
the background at work and all
she was concerned about, before I put
the phone down, was that I put
some sauce in a casserole dish and put it in the oven for our tea.

Once Dot

s mild concerns were addr
essed, it was time to see what
we had in the house that I could utilise to make me six grand. The first
place I headed were the drawers next to Dot

s bed where I knew she kept
the Building Society passbooks. I had no idea how much money we had
in those accounts as I did not contribute to our savings at all, but knew
my wages paid most of the bills, so thought there may be some savings
that Dot had put away. I was the type of person who lived for the day.
Dot was the type who always believed in being prepared for a rainy day.
I needed that money now, it was pissing down!

I rifled through the drawers like an anxious, drug addled burglar,
pushing all the crap that Dot had gathered out the way, for some reason,
tights, knickers, credit card bills and passbooks were all in together. The
first passbook I found was a Girobank account, I flicked through to the
most up-to-date balance,
£
13! Shit! What did Dot do with her money?
I knew mine went the way of the bookies, but where did Dot

s go? There
must be others, I thought,


Come on, Dot! Don

t let me down!

I said to myself,

My life
depends on this!

I started throwing everything out that drawer, feeling my blood
pressure rising. Then I saw a second passbook. Temporary respite.
Birmingham Midshires, how much was this? I flicked through the
pages,
£
1-12.


Fucking hell!

I cursed,

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I was a dead man. A dead man. I pulled the whole drawer out and
tipped its contents on the floor. The last remaining passbook in that
drawer was a Halifax one, that sat there, shinily, gleaming at me like
the gold in a treasure chest.


Six grand!

I pleaded aloud as I leafed through those pages,

if it

s
not six grand, I

m screwed!

Why I kept reminding myself of my own predicament, I ha
ve no
idea, but fear does strange things to
the human mind. I reached the
final page,
“£
487-20.

Better than th
e other two, but I knew it was
nowhere near enough to keep Kiffer sweet. I was, by now, breaking out
in a cold sweat. I imagined myself waking up in a coffin, hammering on
its lid, six feet below the ground, hopelessly screaming for help as I died for a second time. I needed to leave a letter for Dot, I told myself, let her
know that I wanted to be cremated. I did not like the idea of being stuck
in a confined space or the idea of my body just being left to rot, having
said that, if Kiffer

s mobsters murdered me, they weren

t exactly going
to pop around to my house, ring the
doorbell and hand my battered
body over to Dot. I doubt they would listen
to funeral requests either. I
needed to find something in our house, anything, that I could sell.

I started running around the house fee
ling like a contestant on Mike
Reid

s show,

Runaround

that the kid
s used to watch when they were
little, as I

d run into the lounge and
then decide that was the wrong
place to be, so would run over to the
dining room. There was nothing
in the lounge that was sellable other
than the TV and the settee and
they weren

t going to get me five and a half grand and they weren

t
things you could find an instant buyer
for either. The same problems
existed with the goods in the dining room too, I wasn

t going to make
a quick fortune by selling a dining room
table and chairs. The gravity
of the situation and the hopelessness of
my search began to kick in. I
was hunting for something I just wasn

t goi
ng to find. I just stood there
yelling and began punching myself in
the head. Then the tears came.
My life was over.

As the tears continued to pour, I dropped onto my knees and began
to pray aloud,


God, if you can hear me now, I need your help. I

ve been a fool, a complete fool and I

ve neglected you, I

ve neglected my family and
I have made a complete mess of my life so far. You have given me so
many things, a good marriage, great kids, but I

ve not appreciated them,
I

ve just been selfish, thought of no-one other than myself and taken
everything and everyone in my life for granted.

I

m scared now though, God. I don

t w
ant to die. If you can help me
through this God, I promise I will chang
e. This is my road to Damascus
moment, God. I promise you it is. I

ll
make a deal with you, God, if
you can somehow find me six gran
d, by tomorrow morning, I will
never gamble again. I

ll never take anything for granted again, I

ll b
e a
better and kinder man. I

ll come to chu
rch, not just at Christmas and
at weddings and christenings, I

ll come e
very Sunday without fail. Just
help me, God. I don

t want to die, God. Six grand, that

s all. I

ll even
pay it back, over time, to the local churc
h. We can do this, God, if you
help me, we can do this! Just give me a
sign, God. If you do, I swear,
it

ll change me forever. I know I

ve never
done a thing for you, but help
me through this and I will! I swear I will. AMEN.

Now I know some people laugh at me
when I tell them this, tell me
I

m talking rubbish, but I don

t care. I
swear, as soon as I stood back
up, I felt different. Completely different. I
felt like I was being guided.
Something, I don

t know what, told me to go to the bathroom. I don

t
mean said it out loud, I just meant it was
like a sixth sense, telling me
to go to the bathroom. I no longer felt scared or nervous. I felt self-
assured. Something told me everythi
ng would be OK. I felt like an
angel had taken me by the hand and was calming me and leading me
in the right direction. Then, when I reached the bathroom, I was certain,
as sitting there, on the side of the sink
, next to the toothpaste, were
Dot

s rings, her engagement ring and h
er eternity ring. Before, when
I wasn

t thinking straight, it had to
tally slipped my mind that Dot
always took those rings off for work. A
pparently rings can be a great
breeding ground for germs plus, Dot al
ways pointed out, jagged rings
could always catch one of the old dears when she
was lifting them or
washing them. Dot only ever wore her
wedding ring for work and left
the other two at home. I knew, just kne
w, that these rings were going
to be my salavation. Somehow, these rin
gs were going to save my life.
I put both of them in my pocket, picked
up my car keys and set off for
Ormskirk.

 

Charlie

 

Kubilay Turkyilmaz. A Swiss footba
ller of Turkish descent - ever
heard of him? On 7
th
October 2000, he be
came the first person in World
Cup Qualifying history to score a hat-trick of penalties. Heard of him
now? Thought not, it was against the Faroe Islands! I love Kubilay
Turkyilmaz! I love him more than any
other footballer that has ever
walked this earth. I love him more
than Bobby Charlton, more than
Geoff Hurst, more than Bolton

s greates
t, Nathaniel Lofthouse, scorer
of 255 goals in 452 games for the mighty Bolton Wanderers and thirty
goals in thirty three games for England. Ku
bilay Turkyilmaz surpasses all
of them, in my book. Why, you may ask? What

s so good about Kubilay
Turkyilmaz? Simple answer. Kubilay Turkyilmaz saved my life. Kubilay
Turkyilmaz and God anyway.

A grand. Lunchtime on Saturday, 8
th
June 1996 and I had a grand
in my pocket. Normally, a grand in my pocket meant that I had just had
a big win on the horses and it was time t
o treat the boys in the pub to
a round on me or the family to a meal out. Not this time. I knew this
time, that a grand in my pocket by day break would almost certainly
mean death.

I had stooped to an all time low. The theft of the savings and
personal belongings of my wife had n
etted me that thousand pounds.
The Halifax account was fortunately in
joint names, so I had managed
to withdraw all but
£
12 from that account and I had also visited a pawn
shop in Burscough Street, to receive
£
525 for two rings worth more than
five times that. I understood that if my plan did not come off, Dot would
no doubt kill me before Kiffer

s henchmen came calling.

I was still five grand short. It was,
without doubt, crisis time. In
a time of crisis, I had little choice but
to resort to what I knew best.
Gambling. Gambling, the very thing tha
t had created this whole mess,
was now the only thing I had to rely on
to save my life. In fact, that
was not strictly true, I had faith too. Faith was going to be
the thing
that would make this gamble different f
rom every bet I had previously
placed. From a personal perspective, thi
s was the bet to end all bets.
Prior to this one bet, I had always hoped
or thought I was going to win
my bet, this time, I knew I would win. The
re was a spiritual difference.
An Almighty difference. I had repent
ed of my sins before God and I
knew God was going to allow this one fi
nal sin, to clean my slate and
cleanse my soul. This was one final, Alm
ighty bet. I was going to pick
one horse in the Derby at Epsom
and put the whole one thousand
pounds on it to win. I had decided now was not the time to be cautious.
Somehow, I knew, God was going to guide me through this. God would
ensure that I was a winner.

BOOK: Forever Is Over
4.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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