Sugar Daddy

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DeYaKen
DeYaKen
1,625 Followers

It took the whole of the next year, advertising in Britain and the rest of Europe, asking for Lisa to come forward and deal with the divorce. We got no response, but we did receive a few letters from people who claimed they'd seen her. I passed those on to Inspector Maynard, but he seemed very uninterested. Nevertheless, at the end of the year the court awarded me a decree nisi which would become absolute in six weeks. I was free for the first time in twenty-four years. For a short period I wondered about getting married to Jane, but she didn't seem too bothered about it, and we were happy enough as we were. Hell, we weren't just happy enough, I was the happiest I'd ever been. If it weren't for my worsening relationship with Elliott, life would have been perfect. He'd recently got married, and if it hadn't been for his wife, Christine, I wouldn't have been invited to the wedding. I liked Christine, she seemed like a level-headed girl, and she tried hard to repair our relationship. She was to find it an uphill struggle.

*****

"Really, Mother, you surely didn't expect to come back and find nothing had changed. You deserted us without so much as a goodbye. We've moved on, Mum. Dad's moved on, and to do that he had to divorce you."

"But surely I have some say in it. I was one of the partners in the marriage. You surely can't dissolve it without me having any say."

"You had your say the day you walked out that door." I had no need to say anything—Elliott was doing a sterling job of putting his mother in her place. For the first time since Lisa left he was actually defending me.

"So what happened, Kevin? How did you manage to divorce me?"

"Elliott was spot on—you effectively did the job for me by walking out. It was only the division of assets that held things up. The court insisted that I gave you every chance to come forward to claim your share of our combined wealth."

"And did you?"

"I certainly did. I placed adverts in La Monde, Le Figaro, El Pais, La Republica and all the British press. When you didn't come forward the court took the view that you weren't bothered."

"So, if we're divorced what's happened to my share of our life together?"

"That's exactly what the court wanted you to come back and claim. When you failed to come forward they looked at the fact that you'd left all your bank cards and came to the conclusion that you'd abandoned all of our assets and had no further interest in them. So you see my dear, there is no 'your share'."

"I put twenty-one years into our marriage, and now you say I'm left with nothing?"

"You trapped me in this marriage, and you gave it little more than eleven years before deciding the grass was greener elsewhere. Ever since Elliott went to that bloody school and you started to get involved you became dissatisfied with me, and when I wasn't prepared to act like the people you admired you made it clear who you'd side with. You had your share out of this marriage. In clothes alone you had your share. There are still thousands of pounds worth of clothes and shoes upstairs. You're welcome to take them whenever you want."

Lisa sat down sobbing. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sat there rocking back and forth on the chair. I just sat and looked at her occasionally, exchanging glances with my son. Eventually the crying stopped and we were able to talk again.

"Just why did you come back, Lisa?"

"I admit it, I was in trouble. You were right about those people, Kevin. Most of them just use people for what they can get from them. I left with Henry, who only wanted me to get at you—once the police and the press lost interest in you he had no further use for me. I made friends with an older man who took me off to Barbados. After a couple of years he traded me in for a younger model. I hitched a ride with a group of lads bringing a yacht back to Spain. I ended up in Malaga where I met a nice English man. I thought he was a bit of a rough diamond, but he treated me well, and he seemed to be loaded. Well, he turned out to be a criminal, and you know the rest from what the police said. I thought I was in serious trouble, so I loaded up the car and made for the only place I knew I'd be safe. I came back to the only man I've ever loved."

"And you expected me to welcome you with open arms?"

"No, of course not. I knew you'd be angry—you had every right—but I thought if I tried really hard I might be able to salvage what was left of our marriage. We loved each other once—I hoped I could make you love me again, but now I find there's nothing left to salvage."

"Well, you got most of that right. Yes, I am angry. Yes, there's nothing left to salvage, and yes, we loved each other once, or at least I loved you. Even though you trapped me in an early marriage, I still loved you. I would have married you anyway—you didn't need to get pregnant. I loved you right up to the point where you took the side of that parasite, Henry, against me. That was when I realised I was just a meal ticket to you. From then on I didn't care what you did."

"Oh, Kevin, you were never just a meal ticket to me. I've loved you since we were at school. Yes, I deliberately got pregnant—I was frightened I'd lose you once you were qualified and found a job. Yes, I wanted you to make better use of your abilities. I looked at people like Henry and thought, my Kevin is twice as smart as you, but still Henry earned far more than you. By insisting on sticking to your principles, and working for that tin-pot electronics company, you turned your back on making real money. And when I tried to make you see it you turned your back on me. I tried to make you take notice of me, but you didn't seem interested. I started dating other men, and we'd go places where people who knew you would go. I knew they'd tell you. I thought you'd challenge me. We might fight but at least you'd talk to me."

"So everything was my fault. Even when you were playing around and a lesser man would have thrown you out. It was all my fault."

"No, Kevin, I was wrong. I thought success was all about money, but it isn't, is it? Look at you—still living in the same house, working at the same place and you're happy. I could have been happy, too. If only I hadn't got so wound up about you being a millionaire like we used to dream about."

Elliott just sat looking at Lisa. He shook his head, laughing. "You really don't know, do you?" he said to Lisa.

*****

Of course she didn't know, and why should she. No one would have expected it. I certainly didn't, I couldn't even believe it when Bob Danvers walked into my office and laid the paperwork on my desk. It took me a couple of times reading it all through before it really sank in. A large company, very big in the telecoms business, had made a bid for the company. The company Bob owned lock, stock and barrel, and they were offering way over the odds for it. After my second read through I had two questions.

"Well it's very interesting, Bob, and a hell of a good price. What I want to know is, are you going to take it and what has it got to do with me?"

"Okay, Kevin, cards on the table. I'll answer your second question first. The deal has everything to do with you. For the deal to go through you have to sign a binding five year contract. These boys have done their homework. They know who has generated all the income for this company, and they don't want it if that man doesn't sign up to the deal. They're offering a hell of a salary— far more than I pay you. With bonuses you'd have a banker's income."

"So, what about the first question? Are you going to sell?"

"You know my position—I've been taking a back seat for the last few years. Wendy and I want to enjoy our retirement together. This deal provides one hell of a retirement package."

"I sense a but coming up, Bob. But what?"

"You know me too well. There is a but—it doesn't affect you, but it's there nonetheless. You've changed this company, Kevin, almost beyond recognition, but there is still the bit there that I founded—the production side. Yes, we designed then, too, but we only designed things we'd make. Now we design things our workshop never sees, and it makes us plenty of money, but those blokes out on the shop floor rely on us making things. This other company doesn't want that, it doesn't fit what they do. They only really want your side of the business. They'll take production because it comes as a package, but they don't want it. In a year or two, they'll either close it down or sell it off. I've known some of those blokes for most of their working life—I can't do that to them."

"So you don't sell, and I don't get a bankers salary. I can live with that."

"But I don't want to go on forever, Kevin—I want to retire. No, what I need is an alternative buyer. Someone who loves this company as much as I do. Someone who will look after the workforce, and someone they all look up to."

That's when the penny dropped.

"Now hold on, Bob. I don't have that kind of money, and I doubt very much I could raise it."

Bob picked up the bid documents and waved them at me. "These people are offering way over the odds. We both know it, and we both know why. If I can guarantee the production side keeps going, then I'm willing to sell for a market valuation. And I don't have to sell the whole company—I could keep fifteen per cent. The income could top up my pension."

"So I'm going to raise eighty-five percent of what this company is worth. I'm sorry, Bob, I just don't see it."

Bob started to get quite excited and he was much more emphatic. "Yes, you can, son. I've already spoken to the bank. We use one of those tricks the financial wizards use when they screw people. Your house must be worth four hundred thousand, and I'll bet you could lay your hands on another hundred thousand. You put that up as surety and the bank loans you the money to buy the business. Once you can show you own eighty-five per cent of the company, you can transfer the debt to the company. The bank pays me, the company pays the bank back over a period of time. You don't even end up with a mortgage. You talk it over with Jane tonight. She'll tell you it's all legitimate. The bank is sending someone over tomorrow at two to talk to us about it."

Bob had said I knew him too well, but he certainly reciprocated. He knew I couldn't turn it down. He knew all the right buttons to press and he'd pressed them. As he left he called out to my PA. "Sally, I think the future owner of the company could do with a coffee."

When Sally came in with the coffee five minutes later I was still pacing up and down in the office, unable to take it all in. She put the coffee down. "Is it true, Kevin? Are you buying the company?"

"It certainly looks like it, Sally."

"Oh, I'm so pleased," she said and planted a big kiss on my lips. "I can't wait to tell everyone— they've all been worrying about what happens if Bob retires. Now I can tell them everything will be alright."

"For the moment, Sally, you can't tell them anything. Wait until the deal is confirmed, and then we can tell them."

Jane and I talked the matter through over dinner, and she confirmed that everything Bob had said was true. I still didn't understand it—to me it seemed like free money—so Jane explained.

"Basically, when you transfer the debt to the company, the value of the company you own will fall accordingly. The profit the company makes will fall because of servicing the debt, but with profits rising the way they are you won't notice that. As the debt is paid off the value of the company you own will rise. It's not actually free money, but it does mean if the company goes belly up, which we know it won't, you're protected."

So that was the way it happened. In the course of that year I got divorced and became the owner of the company I'd worked for. Bob took Wendy on another world cruise to celebrate. Sally was right—when we announced the deal over the public address system it was greeted by cheers from the shop floor, and when I left I had a large number of the employees wanting to shake my hand.

*****

"So, what is it I don't know?" asked Lisa. "What is it that's so bloody funny?"

"You are, Mum, going on about Dad not being a millionaire. All it took was for you to leave."

"Elliott, there's no call for that," I told him.

"Well, it's true, Dad. If she was so hung up on you being a millionaire she should have stuck around."

"Are you trying to tell me your father, who still works for that tin-pot electronics company, is a wealthy man? Quite frankly, Elliott, I find that difficult to believe."

"Firstly, that tin-pot electronics company is one of the leaders of what's called the knowledge economy, selling their know-how all over the world. There's ARM, selling processor know-how, and there's Danvers, doing the same in DSP—and DSP is what the telecoms world want right now. Secondly, he doesn't work for Danvers Electronics—he owns it. He's a fucking millionaire, on paper at least."

Lisa was visibly shocked—she just sat there with her mouth open. Eventually it started to sink in and she looked at me. "But you still live in this house. Why, when you could afford something much better?"

"The house suits me fine. I don't need anything bigger or better."

"Don't tell me you're still driving that old Skoda."

"No, that had to go. I drive a Jag these days."

Elliott told me he had to go and, for the first time in more than six years, he gave me a hug.

"I know it doesn't begin to cover it, Dad, but I am sorry. If the invitation is still open I'll see you tomorrow. I think Christine was planning to come anyway—I know she's bought a dress."

"Of course it's still open—but you've blown your chances of being best man."

We both laughed and I walked him to the door. As he was leaving he checked I'd be okay with Lisa. I assured him there was nothing to worry about.

I went back into the house to find Lisa making a tour of inspection. She picked up a photo of me with Jane. "Who's the girl, then, Kevin?"

"That's Jane, Jane Draper."

"Hmm. I don't think I know any Drapers."

"No, I don't think you know her."

"From this picture anyone would think she was your girlfriend."

"No, she's not my girlfriend, she's my fiancé."

"Your fiancé? Kevin have you gone mad? She looks young enough to be your daughter."

*****

After divorcing Lisa I was in no hurry to tie myself to another woman. Jane never mentioned marriage and seemed to be content to carry on the way we were. To all intents and purposes we were like a married couple anyway, so without any children there didn't seem to be any need to change things. Our life together was as blissful as I could remember, and unlike when I first started out with Lisa, we had no money problems. However, I was taken somewhat by surprise one night when Jane came to me and after a short cuddle made her feelings known.

"Kevin, would you like us to have a baby?"

"I hadn't really given it any thought. Don't you think I'm getting rather old for that?"

"No, I don't. You're very young for your age, and I would really like to have a family."

I started to get out of the bed. "Well, I don't want to bring any little bastards into this world." As I walked around the bed I saw her face drop and tears started to form in her eyes. I stood alongside her and dropped down onto one knee. "Jane, will you marry me?"

She looked at me with a puzzled expression, then, as she put the statement together with the proposal, a smile slowly spread across her face. "You mean we can start a family?"

"Only once we're married. So I ask again, will you marry me?"

"Oh yes, yes, you know I will."

She threw her arms around my neck and pulled me back into bed. I didn't get a lot of sleep that night, and the following day we took a trip to the jewellers. Jane tried to get her mother on board with planning the wedding, but despite their grudging apology she remained convinced The Post had got it right and her daughter was marrying a murderer. Her father was overjoyed and offered whatever help he could. Jane put off setting a date for a few weeks, and I was a bit puzzled as to why. All was revealed when she produced a document on which I had to list all of my assets. She was drawing up a prenuptial agreement. That evening I challenged her.

"What on earth are you doing drawing up a prenuptial? What have you got to protect from me?"

"Nothing, Kevin, but you have, and I know what people will say—people like Elliott, for instance. They'll say I'm a gold digger, just after your money. The only thing I want from this marriage is you. That's why I want this agreement. I don't expect us to break up, but if one day you get tired of me I don't want to walk away with anything I didn't contribute."

"Well I'm not having it, Jane. I love you, what's mine is yours and that's the way I want it."

"I love you, too, that's why I want this. I want people to know that I'm marrying you because I love you, not because I want to get my hands on your money."

"I don't care what other people think—I want to marry you, and when I say with all my worldly goods I thee endow I want to mean it. Anyway, prenuptials are not legally enforceable in this country."

"I know that, Kevin, but the court will take account of what we each brought to the marriage. I really don't want to argue about it, but if we don't do this I can't marry you."

Reluctantly I gave way—after all, none of it would make a difference unless we divorced and I never expected that to happen. No sooner had I signed the agreement and listed my assets than Jane had set the date. Elliott reacted in the way Jane had predicted—even with the agreement he still insisted Jane was after his inheritance. When I asked him to be my best man he laughed and told me he wasn't even sure if he'd come to the wedding. Bob Danvers jumped at the chance—he knew Jane and was delighted that we'd decided to tie the knot. The last thing I expected was the return of my ex wife.

*****

"Jane is twenty-four, we're deeply in love and I'm marrying her tomorrow."

"So it's true, there's no fool like an old fool."

"Just what do you mean by that?"

"What do you think? You become a very wealthy man and—surprise, surprise—a pretty young woman wants to marry you. You're not stupid, Kevin, surely you see she's just after what she can get."

"We've been together for a little over five years, Lisa. If she was just a gold digger, as you seem to think, she's had plenty of time to trap me by getting pregnant."

I watched Lisa's face and could see the comment about pregnancy had hit its target.

"You'll doubtless be pleased to know we have a prenuptial agreement, at Jane's insistence, which will exclude my current assets from any divorce settlement. You think she's going to marry me, stay a few years, then leave with a big divorce settlement. If she does leave she'd be no better off than she was when I met her, and that was all her idea."

"So you're getting married and I have nothing to show for twenty-one years of being married to you. I'm supposed to accept it while you shower everything on some young bimbo. It's not going to happen, Kevin. I'll contest the divorce settlement."

"I'm tempted to say go ahead, and much good may it do you, but you're not going to do that, are you? You aren't going to contest anything, because you want my help. I've known you long enough, Lisa. You wouldn't come back here prepared to eat humble pie, and try to salvage what's left of our marriage, if you had any alternative. None of your posh friends want to know you and you dumped the others when you walked out on me. The only experience you have is of being a wife and stay-at-home mum. Other than what you got up to in the last six years. My guess is you have a bit of cash but nowhere to go and no one to turn to."

DeYaKen
DeYaKen
1,625 Followers