Lucky Man Pt. 01

Reggie did find out who my biological father was and delighted in informing me from the grave that he had murdered and buried him. Reggie never named him, adding the note that I would never be able to find out who he was. Reggie boasted that had cut off my father's dick and stuffed it in my beaten mother's cunt to show her what had happened to her lover.

He went on to tell me that when my mother suffered her massive stroke, she was at home; Reggie took off her rings and deliberately dumped her off at the hospital, still alive but with no identification, so that she would die alone.

The sick fuck! I wanted to go back and dig him up but by then he would have been cremated.

He then went on to say he had had three sons before Bob but one died in infancy and the other two died during the war, one in all the bombing that the industrial Midlands suffered and the other of natural causes. Reggie had his own name entered as father on my birth records simply because he didn't want anyone to know while he was still alive that he had been deceived, but now he was gone it no longer mattered.

Reggie had wanted to control me, like he had with all his children, his wife, mother, sisters, daughters, brothers' wives, friend's wives, other girlfriends. Reggie was one depraved son of a bitch. He beat me up when I was a kid, tried to wear me down by always telling me of my failings and how short and puny and stupid I was and that I would never amount to anything. Over the years I had forgotten my experiences, buried all those bad memories, now the pain was all coming back. Despite his behaviour towards me as a child, at the time I simply couldn't believe that I was just a worthless piece of shit to him. How could I think that? He was my father and I thought he really must've loved me and was only trying to toughen me up because I was so weak. So I had put on a tough guy face and refused to show him that it hurt. I hadn't defied him outright at first, I just wouldn't do some of the things he wanted me to do. He knew I took all his insults without appearing angry or upset because he thought I was a wimp. Recalling those events I wondered how many times I had cried myself to sleep most nights. It seems that Reggie wanted me to hate him, but all I felt at the time was that I loved both my parents and wanted the torture to end, but the means to change things was beyond me.

Reggie told me in his vindictive letter in no uncertain terms that I was a wimp, unlike any of his children who would fight back and he could break them until they were puppies in his hand. He reminded me of that night when I was 16 and fought back. I think he thought he had made the breakthrough and that I was now his. Reggie said he had looked forward to having my arse on my 18th birthday, like he'd had Bob's four years earlier, but that I was such a wimp I had run away from home.

Reggie controlled my mum so he got her to try and persuade me to come back home and he had remained hidden in the background to see my reaction, but the useless bitch wasn't persuasive enough. Memories of seeing my mother at that time came flooding back, I knew then that she never wanted me to come back home and had kept whispering to me not to when she thought her husband wasn't watching closely enough.

Reggie then tried to control my love life using a couple of his daughters, hoping to have a hold on me through them. When I didn't play ball with the first two, he used his favourite daughter and hit the jackpot, I fell in love with Ruth just as he'd hoped. Reggie couldn't understand why I didn't fuck her that first night, a real man like him and his twelve inches wouldn't have hesitated, particularly as Ruth was his favourite fuck. He knew that I was a complete tosser and no son of his when Ruth told Reggie that I didn't want to tickle her fanny with my puny six inches until her birthday, some 17 or 18 dates further down the road.

Reggie then went into graphic detail about that first Wednesday night of my "new relationship" when Ruth was supposed to be having a "girls night out". She was actually round his house and he fucked her twice that night, once in the cunt and again in the arse. Reggie said he was a real man and I was a pussycat. He boasted how some days, even after I got married, he would fuck Ruth, my mother and Ruth's mother and sodomise Bob all in the same afternoon. And that Bob would double tag all the girls too, at least every Wednesday of my married life. Reggie took great delight in informing me of this, in my best mate's handwriting.

Reggie went on to claim that both my kids were the fruits of his loins, not mine. Under Reggie's controlling influence Ruth made sure I wore condoms, all the while he fucked her bareback until his bun was in her oven. He pointed out what a great joke it was that he had Ruth persuade me to have my testicular tubes tied after Charlie was born! He laughed that I was a eunuch and my bloodline would end with me, while he had his genes scattered to the four corners of the globe.

Finally, he boasted that he had taken Andie's cherry when she was 18 and hoped to live another four weeks so he could take Charlie's. I was so numb by now that my mind was screaming.

No, that sound was actually me, I was screaming so loud that my throat hurt. The only thing I could think of was at least my darling Charlie had been spared and I cried that my dear Andie was an innocent victim.

By then Ruth was dead to me, she had lied from the outset, when we met she had been fucking Reggie regularly for nearly twelve months and had strung me along for 22 years of what turned out to be a sham marriage. I couldn't bear to call Reggie my Dad anymore. I felt sorry that Andie hadn't escaped his clutches for the last 18 months, but at least she was young and I hoped she had time to recover. I thought once more about my poor mum, how she lived alone all those years with that monster and died alone in hospital through his hatred.

I had to get out of that house, it didn't feel like my house, every doorway, every window would scream my wife's continual infidelity to me. If I saw Ruth again that day I would have killed her, if I saw Bob too, I would have destroyed him utterly.

I then knew why the girls would have nothing to do with me, clearly they had been told who their real father was and they didn't feel any love for me at all. I showered and changed but no amount of soap and water would ever get me clean. I packed enough clothes to last a couple of days and a few toiletries, my laptop and charger, plus phone charger. Nothing else I wanted to take from that place, no photos, no mementoes, nothing would bring back any good memories from my marriage.

By now it was late afternoon, almost evening, too late to sort out accounts at the bank. I needed a cash machine though. I transferred my phone from my suit jacket. There were about 15 messages from Ruth, who must still have been at the wake and wondering where Bob and I were. I deleted them all without playing any back.

I took a cab to the station and caught a train to London. I got 300 quid out of a cash machine and paid cash for one night at the cheapest hotel I could find. At least it had WiFi so I was able to cancel my life insurance and the insurances on the house and cars.

Next I searched for a divorce lawyer online and called them up. I was able to fill in the forms and paid less than 200 pounds over the phone. They downloaded the completed forms for signing and I put them on my memory stick to print out in the morning. I wanted to petition on the basis of adultery, but even with Reggie's letter the on-line advice judged that they couldn't prove that my wive had committed adultery within the last six months, so on advice I simply opted for divorce on the basis of unreasonable behaviour. The list of reasons would be published, and I didn't want to blight my daughters' reputations, so simply put down as the reason that Ruth's career took up too much time and that I had been denied sexual relations with my wife for more than twelve months. Eventually, I printed out the forms at the hotel reception the next morning and posted them off with an open cheque to cover up to 400 pounds of court fees.

My phone had been vibrating all day and was full of messages, most from Ruth, a couple from Andie. I deleted all Ruth's. I didn't read Andie's, it was too painful for me. However I sent Andie a text to say I didn't blame either her or her sister for me walking out, it wasn't their fault and I still loved them and always would but I had to leave Ruth and I had to leave forever.

I left Ruth to explain to Charlie, if she didn't already know the reasons why. When I finished, I pulled the battery and sim card out and threw it in the bin. That part of my life was now over, there would be no going back.

It was very late by then, I had had nothing to eat all day but had lost my appetite. I was exhausted and needed sleep. What was I going to do in the morning? I hadn't a clue.

I managed coffee and nibbled a bit of dry toast in the morning. I went back to the room and got my stuff together, I had hardly unpacked anything so it didn't take me long, before I checked out. While still in the room I thought I better take advantage of the WiFi and check my emails. Most of it was junk, but one caught my eye, saying there was good news about my Lotto ticket. Knowing my luck, I nearly didn't check it, but I remembered that there might be as much as twenty quid in the account and I might need it, especially if a small win on the account had taken it up to thirty quid overnight.

Chapter 8. Lucky fuck!

I remembered the sign-in and password and checked the balance. I think I whistled or tried to whistle, but it is hard to purse your lips to make a whistle sound when you are grinning from ear to ear. This happened a year ago, as I write this, so I cannot remember the complete number, the last six digits are a blur, but the first two figures sufficed to tell me I was the proud possessor of over 92 million pounds. Fuck, had my luck changed on the very day I thought I was the unluckiest man in the world?

The message box of the lotto account had a couple of messages for me, the first telling me what I had won, the second was a number to ring so that I could access the free financial advice on offer. I thought that could wait until I checked into a better hotel first. So before leaving that cheap hotel I transferred ten thousand to my old bank account that was only in my name.

About two hours later I was ensconced in a beautiful penthouse suite and was ringing the Lotto help line for their free advice. On the legal question, they were quite frank, even though I paid for the ticket with my own money and I was separated from my wife, until I was actually divorced, my wife was entitled to half my assets. Even though I wasn't aware of the win, the winning draw occurred before I petitioned for divorce.

After hanging up, I thought sod it, she was only entitled to what assets she knew about. Later that day I met with an accountant who set up a number of accounts in the UK for immediate use, with credit cards due by overnight carrier, and overseas accounts in tax havens around the world. With his help I withdrew the money from the lotto account and I deposited the money around those accounts. It cost me little more than short change.

The most expensive tailor in Savile Row made me four nice suits for all climates by the start of the following week and I supplemented my new wardrobe from a number of exclusive outfitters. I have always hated shopping for shoes and breaking them in, but a bespoke boot-maker measured me up and adjusted several pairs of ready made shoes plus made a dozen from scratch which would be ready in a few weeks' time. I bought a top of the range mobile phone, ensuring it was set to use world-wide.

After a week in my penthouse I thought it was time I got laid and a very highly-priced woman was contacted through the concierge, who fitted the bill perfectly. She was perfect and made me feel ten feet tall. I wined and dined her, then we went clubbing for a couple of hours before heading back to my penthouse. She stayed all night in that beautiful suite and enjoyed breakfast with me, getting me off one more time before she went. It was wonderful just being with a lovely woman who smiled at me and seemed pleased to be doing me an uncomplicated service. What a relief, she was upfront who she was and didn't have to lie to me. I know it was just an act on her part but it was so much better than the scowls I was accustomed to from my own, well my former, womenfolk. I don't think they were ever really mine.

A week later I had a new identity, bought from a dodgy passport dealer. That concierge was worth his weight in gold, but never tell him I told you so, he probably knows someone who could reach me!

Using that fake passport I opened more bank accounts and credit card accounts, gold and better, of course. I was ready to take on the world and firstly went to Monte Carlo to try the tables.

Expecting to lose a hundred grand in the week I stayed there, I actually doubled my stake money, it just doesn't figure does it? I got laid a couple more times, but by the third time the novelty wore off, it wasn't sex I wanted, it was love from a good woman I needed and although I had plenty of luck I was all out of love.

I needed to work, even as a multi-millionaire I had that work ethic, and felt I had partied enough. The one place in the world that was humming, work wise, was China, so come week three of my freedom from Ruth I found myself in Beijing.

I bought a scaffolding company within a week to start with, made all the workers partners in the business with a distribution of shares as part of a bonus scheme and never looked back. From that I went into construction, building factories, offices and houses, then bought a factory assembling electronic goods and an architectural design company. All employees were made shareholders so they could share in the success of the company.

After a year of pretty intense work I could sit back, take a week off and review where I had come and set out these notes to organise how I felt after my experiences.

Obviously I have changed the names written down in this sorry tale to protect my daughters. I still call them mine even though they aren't, it is just that all through my part in their short lives I was their father and I can't stop now. I still pay in a regular amount to that joint deposit account and, just before I left London, I asked the divorce lawyer to write to the court to say I would continue to feed that account sufficient funds to cover their college fees. Also that I relinquished any rights to half the house and contents so that they could still have the family home to live in, without having it sold underneath them. It was the least I could do and I could never stop loving them, even though they hadn't really been a part of my life for years.

With that I decided to end all communication with them, Christmas and birthdays would just be too painful for me to deal with. I didn't want to remember birthdays, I wanted to forget. But you can't can you? I set up an arrangement with a local flower shop to place flowers on my mother's grave every month for ten years, I thought if I was still alive after that time I could repeat the contract. Thus I severed all ties with the mother country.

Soon after coming to China I met and was "adopted" by a Chinese boy as a surrogate father, a relationship that is proving rewarding to us both. He is the only person I have allowed in my life post-Ruth. It is not that I particularly enjoy celibacy but I cannot get over the fact that, however long she cheated on me, Ruth was and will always be the love of my life. Bill Junior, as I call him, is now my only family, I love my son as only a proper father should.

At one time I had thought life was great, I was married to the most beautiful woman I have every known, who I loved with all my heart and I believed loved me back as much. I had two lovely daughters who doted on me and I on them when they were too young to be told the secret of their parentage. I had loved my job running the scaffolding company. And I had a great best friend in Bob.

Then it all went south. Finding out my wife was unfaithful in Edinburgh was not the deal breaker I thought it would be. Ok, that affair killed off my sex life but I was still living with her, I could see Ruth every day and could still touch her occasionally, albeit briefly and non-sexually. Back then I could see my girls and my best friend all the time and I had enough emotional attachment to think I could endure a broken marriage and at least have some kind of life.

Then, thanks to reading the contents of that fateful envelope, which took a matter of moments, my life became a lie and there was nothing at all I could salvage from it. I had been duped, played like a hooked fish for 24 years. My old life was over. The spin of the coin had gone against me for the last time.

Then, in the midst of my despair, Fate intervened, my numbers came up and gave me a second chance. I know I am an arsehole for not sharing the secret of my fortune with my then wife but, look, I wasn't the one that started keeping secrets from their legal spouse!

I am just glad to get this off my chest, dear reader. I know it all sounds a fantastic tale, but this is the life I had to live through and survive. I will add to this story in a year's time and let you know how I am getting on. I hope you will join me then.

To be continued in Part 2.