Fumblings - Chapter 3
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Fumblings - Chapter 3
Baz stood at the study window, fingering his glass of McCrae’s 25 year old Speyside malt as he watched the two youngsters fetching their tools from the rusted old Gloucester Rugby kit van. The club name and logo had been painted out and over the top an inexpert hand had daubed “Burns Bros, Builders and Plummers – No Job Too Small – OAP Discounts.” The lads were trying to rebuild the high wall that surrounded the old outdoor pool, the one where the famous photograph had been taken of Mandy Rice-Davies frolicking naked with both John Profumo and Lord Longford. The wall had been demolished in an unfortunate incident the previous May, when the Australian coach (whose name Baz could no longer quite remember) had driven Baz’s second best Bentley out of the old stable garages down the drive, twice around the turning circle by the inner gatehouse before skidding the length of the south lawn, shooting straight into the water - narrowly missing Camilla, who had been floating on a lilo at the deep end, topping up her all-over tan. Unfortunately, the coach had also been unharmed.
Martin could not have been more apologetic. He had sent over “a couple of his lads” to sort things out. And here they still were six months later, having completed just the first two courses of bricks. Most days had been spent reading The Sun, posting pictures of their muscles on Instagram and arguing over who was going to drive the mini-digger.
At the time Baz had sworn that he would never give careers advice again, but now here he was doing exactly the same thing. As he turned back to the room, he looked at Camilla poised on the edge of her Pendlebury chair, her pen raised artfully above her notebook. Not one copper-coloured hair among those tumbling coils was out of place. And Baz thanked God every day for the buoyancy properties (or lack thereof) of the Continental GT3 Concept. In the corner of the room, sitting in the leather Tavis Knoyle armchair his guest was also gazing at Camilla, his eyes flitting between the hem of her tight Nathan Charles mini-skirt to the deep V of her pure silk Josh Hohneck shirt. Baz waved his hand at Vickery who had been standing motionless by the 16th century, oak-carved afoa.
Martin could not have been more apologetic. He had sent over “a couple of his lads” to sort things out. And here they still were six months later, having completed just the first two courses of bricks. Most days had been spent reading The Sun, posting pictures of their muscles on Instagram and arguing over who was going to drive the mini-digger.
At the time Baz had sworn that he would never give careers advice again, but now here he was doing exactly the same thing. As he turned back to the room, he looked at Camilla poised on the edge of her Pendlebury chair, her pen raised artfully above her notebook. Not one copper-coloured hair among those tumbling coils was out of place. And Baz thanked God every day for the buoyancy properties (or lack thereof) of the Continental GT3 Concept. In the corner of the room, sitting in the leather Tavis Knoyle armchair his guest was also gazing at Camilla, his eyes flitting between the hem of her tight Nathan Charles mini-skirt to the deep V of her pure silk Josh Hohneck shirt. Baz waved his hand at Vickery who had been standing motionless by the 16th century, oak-carved afoa.
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 12 Jan 2018 12:13 pm, edited 4 times in total.
1Thes.5 [14] Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men.
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Oxford Glaws - Hall of Famer
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
“I think our guest might like some more refreshment.” Vickery crossed the room silently and poured another generous measure of Lidl’s Finest Blend Moldavian Whiskey from the shimmering Bezuidenhout decanter.
The guest immediately looked up from Camilla’s shapely ankle. He stammered slightly. “Look, I’m most awfully grateful to you for finding the time…”
Baz cut him short. “Well you didn’t listen to me last time did you? And look what a mess you made of everything.”
The guest hunched his shoulders and wiped his perspiring hands on the knees of his Simpson-Daniel suit. “I know. I can see that now. I wasn’t ready. I was young and foolish. But now I really want to have another go.”
Baz looked down at the imploring face, tears starting to smear down the pudgy pink cheeks. He sighed. “Well, alright. Though it’s against my better judgement.”
“Oh thank you. Thank you.”
For a moment Baz was worried that the man was going to fall to his knees. Baz took two steps backwards, just in case. “Well you are going to have to start from the bottom again.”
“Oh I realise that. I do. I do.”
“And you know it can’t be Witney.”
“But all my friends.. you know Rebekah and Jeremy and then there’s those nice people with their farm shop.”
Baz looked at him sternly. “Those people are no good to you.”
“But, but….”
“No buts. No you need a constituency where you can build a bit of credibility.”
The guest immediately looked up from Camilla’s shapely ankle. He stammered slightly. “Look, I’m most awfully grateful to you for finding the time…”
Baz cut him short. “Well you didn’t listen to me last time did you? And look what a mess you made of everything.”
The guest hunched his shoulders and wiped his perspiring hands on the knees of his Simpson-Daniel suit. “I know. I can see that now. I wasn’t ready. I was young and foolish. But now I really want to have another go.”
Baz looked down at the imploring face, tears starting to smear down the pudgy pink cheeks. He sighed. “Well, alright. Though it’s against my better judgement.”
“Oh thank you. Thank you.”
For a moment Baz was worried that the man was going to fall to his knees. Baz took two steps backwards, just in case. “Well you are going to have to start from the bottom again.”
“Oh I realise that. I do. I do.”
“And you know it can’t be Witney.”
“But all my friends.. you know Rebekah and Jeremy and then there’s those nice people with their farm shop.”
Baz looked at him sternly. “Those people are no good to you.”
“But, but….”
“No buts. No you need a constituency where you can build a bit of credibility.”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 12 Jan 2018 12:42 pm, edited 2 times in total.
1Thes.5 [14] Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men.
Posts: 1773
Posts: 1773
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Oxford Glaws - Hall of Famer
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
His guest scratched his chin and brightened suddenly. “Well there’s Burford. I could settle for Burford.”
Baz shook his head firmly. “No, I have other plans for Burford.”
“Where then?”
Baz stared his guest full in the face, challenging him to defy him. “The Forest of Dean.”
The guest gripped the arms of the chair. “You’re not… you’re not serious?”
Baz drained the remains of his malt and poured himself another. “I never joke about such matters. A vacancy will arise in June and there will be a by-election shortly afterwards. You will be the official candidate of the Conservative and Unionist Party. Just don’t tell Theresa, not yet anyway.”
The guest looked crestfallen. “If that’s what you think. If you’re sure…Oh god what will I tell Sam?” And then he appeared to remember something else. “But what… but what about my new hut?”
Baz was at the limit of his patience. “For God’s sake man! It’s got wheels hasn’t it?”
The guest nodded sadly. “I guess. That’s it then. I suppose I should be grateful to you.”
Baz needed to bring this to an end. “Just don’t mess things up this time. Camilla has a folder here for you with everything you need, including the keys to a small semi in Cinderford and a voucher entitling you to lifetime membership of the local rugby club.”
“You mean I have to spend my Saturday afternoons with those…. those… people…” He sounded as though he was about to cry.
Baz couldn’t take any more. “Vickery, would you kindly show our guest to his car. You might have to ask Freddie to move his van.”
Baz shook his head firmly. “No, I have other plans for Burford.”
“Where then?”
Baz stared his guest full in the face, challenging him to defy him. “The Forest of Dean.”
The guest gripped the arms of the chair. “You’re not… you’re not serious?”
Baz drained the remains of his malt and poured himself another. “I never joke about such matters. A vacancy will arise in June and there will be a by-election shortly afterwards. You will be the official candidate of the Conservative and Unionist Party. Just don’t tell Theresa, not yet anyway.”
The guest looked crestfallen. “If that’s what you think. If you’re sure…Oh god what will I tell Sam?” And then he appeared to remember something else. “But what… but what about my new hut?”
Baz was at the limit of his patience. “For God’s sake man! It’s got wheels hasn’t it?”
The guest nodded sadly. “I guess. That’s it then. I suppose I should be grateful to you.”
Baz needed to bring this to an end. “Just don’t mess things up this time. Camilla has a folder here for you with everything you need, including the keys to a small semi in Cinderford and a voucher entitling you to lifetime membership of the local rugby club.”
“You mean I have to spend my Saturday afternoons with those…. those… people…” He sounded as though he was about to cry.
Baz couldn’t take any more. “Vickery, would you kindly show our guest to his car. You might have to ask Freddie to move his van.”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 12 Jan 2018 12:43 pm, edited 3 times in total.
1Thes.5 [14] Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men.
Posts: 1773
Posts: 1773
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Oxford Glaws - Hall of Famer
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
Baz sat on the velvet Tom Heard footstool by the fire and sighed deeply. After a moment or two, he could feel Camilla’s long elegant fingers kneading the knots in neck.
“Sir,” she breathed in that smart but sexy Cheltenham Ladies College way she had. “This is probably not the time… but I was wondering if you might be able to give me the benefit of your long experience…”
Baz sighed another deep sigh and then turned and smiled. “For you Camilla, of course…”
“You know I’ve rather been wanting to appear on the frontispiece of Country Life? Well that nice Richard chap from the Stroud Camera Club was over again the other day and… well now he’s sent me these proofs. Could you tell me what you think?”
Camilla went to her leather Akapusi Qera shoulder bag that was hanging from the back of her chair and took out a packet of 7x5 prints.
Baz flicked through them, turning one or two of them through three hundred and sixty degrees as he struggled to work out which way was supposed to be up. “You know, I’m not really sure they are right for Country Life. They usually expect their subjects to have more… more. What’s the word I am looking for?”
Vickery, who had just returned to the room ventured “Might the word you are looking for be ‘clothes’, sir?”
“Exactly Vickery. Country Life generally prefer their subject to have more clothes.” He pointed to one particular photograph and held it up to the light. However, this one might well do for the cover of “Snake Keeper’s Monthly.”
Camilla looked disappointed. Baz put a reassuring arm around her. “Look, I know the editor at Harper’s, I think that might be more your thing anyway. I might bump into him at Kingholm on Saturday.”
His secretary brightened. “Is he a member of the 1873?”
“No he still prefers it over the other side. And he queues up for hours to get that particular spot. You see him on the telly sometimes – he’s the one with the model of the Shed on his hat.”
“Oh him?” Camilla said knowingly. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Sir,” she breathed in that smart but sexy Cheltenham Ladies College way she had. “This is probably not the time… but I was wondering if you might be able to give me the benefit of your long experience…”
Baz sighed another deep sigh and then turned and smiled. “For you Camilla, of course…”
“You know I’ve rather been wanting to appear on the frontispiece of Country Life? Well that nice Richard chap from the Stroud Camera Club was over again the other day and… well now he’s sent me these proofs. Could you tell me what you think?”
Camilla went to her leather Akapusi Qera shoulder bag that was hanging from the back of her chair and took out a packet of 7x5 prints.
Baz flicked through them, turning one or two of them through three hundred and sixty degrees as he struggled to work out which way was supposed to be up. “You know, I’m not really sure they are right for Country Life. They usually expect their subjects to have more… more. What’s the word I am looking for?”
Vickery, who had just returned to the room ventured “Might the word you are looking for be ‘clothes’, sir?”
“Exactly Vickery. Country Life generally prefer their subject to have more clothes.” He pointed to one particular photograph and held it up to the light. However, this one might well do for the cover of “Snake Keeper’s Monthly.”
Camilla looked disappointed. Baz put a reassuring arm around her. “Look, I know the editor at Harper’s, I think that might be more your thing anyway. I might bump into him at Kingholm on Saturday.”
His secretary brightened. “Is he a member of the 1873?”
“No he still prefers it over the other side. And he queues up for hours to get that particular spot. You see him on the telly sometimes – he’s the one with the model of the Shed on his hat.”
“Oh him?” Camilla said knowingly. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
1Thes.5 [14] Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men.
Posts: 1773
Posts: 1773
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Oxford Glaws - Hall of Famer
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
Baz patted his secretary gently on the shoulder. “Now I need to get this other business wrapped up. Can you get me the number of the Forest of Dean constituency office please.”
Camilla punched a number into her phone and handed it to her employer. After a few moments someone answered “Oh Mark, it’s you. Good…. I’m fine thanks. No…. No… I’m a bit busy until the summer. Look I’ll cut to the chase. I think you are ready for the next stage of your career…. Uhuh…. Well I know, but that will take way too long. This is something a bit different……Well how do you like New York?...Uhuh… bagels, that’s right. I like them too…. Well this would be… well there’s no pussy-footing around this. How would you like to be UN Secretary-General?....Of course I can. Have I ever let you down before?.... Exactly…. The competition? No problem. Officially, it’ll be a two-horse race….. You’ll be up against Kellyanne Conway…. No, of course she doesn’t know it yet.”
Camilla punched a number into her phone and handed it to her employer. After a few moments someone answered “Oh Mark, it’s you. Good…. I’m fine thanks. No…. No… I’m a bit busy until the summer. Look I’ll cut to the chase. I think you are ready for the next stage of your career…. Uhuh…. Well I know, but that will take way too long. This is something a bit different……Well how do you like New York?...Uhuh… bagels, that’s right. I like them too…. Well this would be… well there’s no pussy-footing around this. How would you like to be UN Secretary-General?....Of course I can. Have I ever let you down before?.... Exactly…. The competition? No problem. Officially, it’ll be a two-horse race….. You’ll be up against Kellyanne Conway…. No, of course she doesn’t know it yet.”
1Thes.5 [14] Now we exhort you, brethren, warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble-minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men.
Posts: 1773
Posts: 1773
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Oxford Glaws - Hall of Famer
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
I found this article in my therapist's waiting room last night. It's from a journal called "The Sun Literary Supplement".
"'Fumblings' is the superb debut novel from Oxford Glaws, which tells the story of a multi-billionaire who uses his business empire and political connections as a front for his clandestine dealings in the world of English Rugby. Strongly founded on fact and actual events, the narrative moves at breathtaking pace, but this is so much more than just a thriller. Glaws uses meticulous research and his obvious experience of life at the highest levels in academia and politics to create and develop highly credible and complex characters.
The dialogue crackles, and there is enough social commentary to give any reader pause for thought. Glaws' brilliance lies in nuanced referencing and subtle implication. He eschews the obvious- the butler isn't called Butler, the clothes aren't all made by Balmain, and the central character's true identity is cleverly disguised.
My only, churlish, criticism is that the work could use more humour - there are a couple of passages of 2 or even 3 lines where the author fails to elicit a belly laugh or even a wry smile from the reader.
But read this work now - Highly Recommended!
Released in serial form to allow author and readers some time to lead a normal life"
"'Fumblings' is the superb debut novel from Oxford Glaws, which tells the story of a multi-billionaire who uses his business empire and political connections as a front for his clandestine dealings in the world of English Rugby. Strongly founded on fact and actual events, the narrative moves at breathtaking pace, but this is so much more than just a thriller. Glaws uses meticulous research and his obvious experience of life at the highest levels in academia and politics to create and develop highly credible and complex characters.
The dialogue crackles, and there is enough social commentary to give any reader pause for thought. Glaws' brilliance lies in nuanced referencing and subtle implication. He eschews the obvious- the butler isn't called Butler, the clothes aren't all made by Balmain, and the central character's true identity is cleverly disguised.
My only, churlish, criticism is that the work could use more humour - there are a couple of passages of 2 or even 3 lines where the author fails to elicit a belly laugh or even a wry smile from the reader.
But read this work now - Highly Recommended!
Released in serial form to allow author and readers some time to lead a normal life"
Last edited by Geoffy on 12 Jan 2018 20:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Posts: 158
- Geoffy
- Senior squad member
Re: Fumblings - Chapter 3
“turning one or two of them through three hundred and sixty degrees as he struggled to work out which way was supposed to be up”.
LOL I did. And the girl next to me wondered what had tickled me so violently! It just leaves your mind free to impose its own sordid poses . Magnificent!
LOL I did. And the girl next to me wondered what had tickled me so violently! It just leaves your mind free to impose its own sordid poses . Magnificent!
Tuffty
"The Holy Writ of Gloucester Rugby Club demands: first, that the forwards shall win the ball; second, that the forwards shall keep the ball; and third, the backs shall buy the beer." - Doug Ibbotson
Posts: 1313 Location: Lincoln
"The Holy Writ of Gloucester Rugby Club demands: first, that the forwards shall win the ball; second, that the forwards shall keep the ball; and third, the backs shall buy the beer." - Doug Ibbotson
Posts: 1313 Location: Lincoln
- Tuffty
- Hall of Famer
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