profile image
by geordieboy1956
on 23/4/14
I like this button3 people like this
Tim Wilson looked at his watch. It was nine thirty four in the evening. For two years, three months and twenty four days he had lived in this prison cell. Tonight was the last night of his sentence. Tomorrow would be a completely different day; the beginning of a new chapter in his life. The last few weeks since the date of his release had been confirmed were a blur of mixed emotions. Part of him wanted to be free to start living again but he was also terrified at the thought of what lay ahead. How would he cope? What would it be like on the outside with no family to turn to? No job to go to and nothing to look forward to when he woke each morning. No one to be loved by at night. Most of all he wanted revenge for the injustice he had endured. His life lay in ruins. The person responsible was going to pay.

The charge made against him was one of arson but he had not gone out into that dark, wet March evening with the intention of burning down his business premises. He had been betrayed, robbed of his business and the means to support himself and his darling wife Elaine. The person who did this to him was someone for whom hard work was graft to be done by others, fellow human beings whose work ethic, honesty and naivety were to be exploited for his own selfish gain. Tim had lost everything. The home he had worked so hard for had gone. His wife no longer stood by him and she had gone back home to Belfast. Only one person had stood by him during this ordeal. Cookie was his life long friend from the army. It was Cookie who had tried to sort out the problems that had led to his downfall and imprisonment. It was Cookie who visited him in prison when no one else came. It will be Cookie who collects him from York prison tomorrow and takes him back home to Tyneside to seek his revenge on the person who caused all this.


When Tim was released from prison tomorrow, he would be met at the gates by Alan Cook, his best friend and the only person who had visited him throughout his incarceration.
Cookie had always been the greatest friend that any man could have. They joined the army on the same day aged seventeen and during the next twenty years their friendship grew. During tours of duty in Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Sierra Leone they were inseparable as mates and it was only natural that Cookie would do the ‘honours’ as best man at Tim’s wedding. After all, it was Cookie who been there with Tim when he met Elaine on that day in Freetown. Elaine had been working with an Irish charity in Sierra Leone for six months when Tim and Cookie asked for a nurse to help a young African boy who had cut his leg playing football on a rubbish strewn field. Tim and Elaine hit it off immediately. He quickly noticed her tall athletic figure and her long shiny red hair. She was absolutely gorgeous looking with a bright bubbly personality. She was very outgoing and had lots of friends among the nursing staff and with the European contingent who were working to make things more tolerable in this poverty stricken, war wounded country.

CHAPTER ONE – A NEW LIFE IN CIVVY STREET

Elaine was smitten by Tim’s Geordie accent and he by her Northern Irish brogue. Elaine was twenty eight years old, six years younger than Tim. She never expected to fall for a British soldier. Born in west Belfast into a catholic family with four brothers, this could never have happened at home, even though she could have had her pick of the British Army before leaving for Africa to work with the charity. Even though there were more soldiers in Belfast than in any other city she had ever been to, she would never have dared bring a ‘Brit’ home to meet her family.


Tim’s parents had both been killed in a car crash when he was eight years old. He had lived with his auntie Pauline who was his mother’s unmarried younger sister. When he was nearly seventeen Tim was successful in gaining a place as an apprentice motor mechanic. Eighteen months later, the garage closed down because of financial difficulties and Tim found himself out of work. He decided to join the army. It was during his first year serving Queen and country that his aunty Pauline died of a brain haemorrhage. He found himself all alone in the world with only his army pals in his life. Although there had been several girlfriends, Elaine was the first ‘special one.’ She was the only one he ever let get really close to him. They saw a lot of one another during their time in Sierra Leone including a wonderful Christmas. Elaine bought Tim a silver cigarette lighter and when they returned to England she had it engraved with his initials TW. That Christmas they decided to spend the rest of their lives together.

Within six months of meeting, Tim and Elaine were married, and the happy couple rented a flat in Tim’s home city of Newcastle upon Tyne. Tim left the army soon afterwards after nearly twenty years service. Elaine’s parents did not attend the wedding but they eventually came to accept the marriage that had made their only daughter so happy. Her four brothers however could never accept this state of affairs.

Cookie had left the army the previous year and found settling into civilian life difficult at first. He found a flat to live in but at first he struggled to find a job. Always the joker in the pack and with a gift for the gab, he applied for a job as a door to door salesman and was taken on by a household cleaning materials company. When Tim announced that he was leaving the army Cookie was concerned that his friend might find the transition to Civvy Street was not an easy one. He warned Tim that things would be hard without a secure income and a settled role in life.
‘It’s a bloody jungle out there you know,’ said Cookie. ‘You need to think carefully about what you are doing mate.’
Tim shrugged his shoulders. He and Elaine were going to make a real go of married life. He was going to make sure they would be all right.
‘Cookie we have been through a real jungle in Sierra Leone. The Jungle on Civvy Street will be a piece of cake compared to that.’ Cookie smiled. He knew how hard it would be for Tim. He just hoped that his friend knew what he was doing.

Tim visited the Job Centre every day and picked up bits of work here and there but minimum wage jobs were never going to make ends meet. He hardly went out anymore. He just couldn’t afford to go anywhere. He stopped smoking to save money but he kept his cigarette lighter that Elaine had engraved with his initials. Elaine started work as a nurse at Newcastle General Hospital and so became the main breadwinner. Tim grew more and more frustrated and began to hate his situation. He was supposed to be the one who did the providing for.

Tim remembered the garage that he worked at after he had left school. After all these years he still had the certificates for the little experience he had gained while training to be a motor mechanic and he wondered if there was anyway that he could complete his training. Looking through the ‘Yellow Pages’ he made a list of the local garages. Perhaps one of them might give him the chance that he so desperately needed. He telephoned them all. No one wanted to consider training up a thirty seven year old ex-squaddie. The rejection letters were really starting to depress him. Tim was feeling down when Cookie called around one Wednesday just after tea.


‘Cookie, I am getting so sick and tired of all this. A few weeks work, then weeks on end with no money then another short term job. How can you live like this?’ Cookie empathised with Tim. He too had found it difficult to get a job at first after leaving the army. He had no technical qualifications or indeed any real civilian experience to fall back on. What he did have was charm and what many people call ‘the gift of the gab.’ He had an abundance of self confidence. He was currently working as a salesman for a home improvement company, selling fitted kitchens, double glazing and conservatories. Things never seemed to get Cookie down. Whenever he had a setback he would just take a break for a few days and then look for a new opportunity. People were always impressed by his positive outlook and unshaken ability to see the brighter side of every situation. His colleagues called him “Mr Glass Half Full” because of his refusal to look at life pessimistically.

‘I know lots of the lads find the same crap situation when they get out of the army,’ he said to Tim as he tried to reassure him that things would improve. ‘You just need to keep looking try to update your skills and keep hoping for something to turn up that’s all. Didn’t I tell you that Civvy street is a jungle? This is what I meant.’

‘But Cookie it is so unfair. I got nearly to the end of my apprenticeship as a car mechanic and then when the company folded I couldn’t finish it. Then I joined up and you know the rest.’

‘Well why don’t you try to retrain as a motor mechanic then?’ Cookie asked.
‘I can’t really. Things have changed so much since then. I don’t know if I could get in anywhere. I have phoned up dozens of companies but nobody wants to know. I am just too old now.’

Cookie pulled a catalogue out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Tim.
‘This is what I came to show you, what do you think of this then?’ Tim flicked through the catalogue for a couple of minutes and gave it back to Cookie.

‘Well, it is full of Landrovers, trucks and vans and the like,’ said Tim stating the obvious.
‘Yes but have you seen the prices? £1,800 for a Landrover, £2,000 for a pickup truck.’

‘Well, what’s your point?’ asked Tim in a terse voice.
‘The point is Tim, the army are flogging all of this stuff off dirt cheap and we could be making a killing by selling Landrovers on to rich farmers.’

‘Rich farmers, where are they then? Haven’t you heard they are all skint after the foot and mouth crisis?’

‘Exactly. That is all the more reason for them to buy cheap trucks supplied by Cook and Wilson Motors.’

Tim laughed. ‘You are dreaming you are mate. Let’s go for a pint and get you back into the real world.’

Cookie shrugged his shoulders. He put the catalogue back into his pocket and they left the flat together. The upstairs flat Tim shared with Elaine was part of a typical Tyneside terrace, built in the early part of the twentieth century to house miners who worked at the local pit. This area had been part of a village then and was separated from the Tyneside conurbation by farms and woodland that had disappeared over the years to make way for private and council housing. The village was eventually absorbed into the city of Newcastle Upon Tyne.

The Oak Tree pub was just a five minute walk from Tim and Elaine’s flat. The pub had been build at the edge of a quiet private housing estate that had been developed during the mid nineteen sixties. It was very popular and had a good reputation for fine drinks and food. It was a spacious pub comprising a lounge bar and a small restaurant at the rear of the building. There was also a function room that could be hired out for wedding receptions and birthday parties. Quite often, companies based at the nearby business park would hire the room for seminars and training presentations. The large oak tree which gave the pub its name stood on a small lawn a few yards from the front door of the building. This tree had been the subject of a petition when the housing estate was being built. Local people insisted that it should remain as it was one of the oldest in the Tyneside area.

When Tim and Cookie arrived at the Oak Tree they noticed that the pub seemed much busier than usual for a weekday evening. There seemed to be some kind of function going on. Tim and Cookie went straight to the bar but had to wait nearly ten minutes before they were able to buy their drinks.

‘Hey Jack. Who are all these people? Cookie shouted to the barman.
‘Business types from the city centre. They are from one of the big banks I think.’
Tim and Cookie were eventually served with their pints of lager and walked away from the bar in search of a seat.

‘I bet these people earn an absolute fortune,’ Cookie remarked to Tim.

‘You can say that again. They look like they are all loaded and did you see the swanky motors out in the car park?’

Tim and Cookie chatted, drank their pints and decided that they would walk back to Tim’s flat. The Oak Tree was still very full and there were still no seats. There was a huge queue of people trying to get served at the bar. They were just about to leave when Cookie took the army surplus catalogue out of his pocket and turned to Tim.

‘I bet some of the people in this pub tonight could buy everything in this catalogue with the money they have in their back pockets.’

‘You might be right about that young man’ said a loud voice behind them. Tim and Cookie turned round quickly to see a tall, well built, smartly dressed man with immaculately cut hair.

‘What are you doing then lads, buying or selling?’
Tim and Cookie were startled by the directness of this stranger who beckoned them to join him at the corner of the lounge bar. The smartly dressed man took the catalogue from Cookie and flicked through the pages stopping now and again to make comments to Cookie about how cheap the trucks seemed to be. He took a sip from his wine glass and repeated his question.

‘Well, are you buying or selling?’
Tim and Cookie both looked at the floor feeling rather embarrassed. This man was a total stranger, someone they would not normally socialise with. He reminded Tim of a sergeant he had served with in the army. Someone to be obeyed but best avoided if at all possible. Cookie felt rather uneasy at the way this man had wormed his way into what had been a private conversation between two mates in their local pub.

‘Sorry gents,’ said the smartly dressed man. ‘I should have introduced myself. My name is Bradley Hall and I have just been to a seminar about regional regeneration. I run a business support company.’ He paused to take a packet of cigars from his inside jacket pocket. ‘Can I offer you one of these?’ Tim and Cookie both declined. Bradley Hall continued to explain about his business activities.

‘I identify people with good business ideas, try to help them get funding and develop their businesses for them. I also provide administrative and financial services to small companies. Let me buy you both another drink.’

After introducing himself and Tim, Cookie explained to Bradley that he had discovered a source of ex-army Landrovers and other assorted vehicles that could be bought cheaply and he wanted to sell them on to any likely customers that he could find. The vehicles would need checking over and a small amount of maintenance but he had hoped that Tim would be able to handle that side of the business. If Tim did not want to join him he would need to look elsewhere for a mechanic. Also, he could not afford garage or storage space for the trucks. Bradley Hall offered a possible solution.

‘I could probably put you in touch with people who could lend you the money or may even give you a grant to allow you to buy or rent a small building to use as a garage. There are also training grants available. Then your mate here could brush up on his grease monkey skills and come in to work with you in the business. You see, it is always half the battle if you already know the person you are going into business with.’

Cookie looked at Tim. ‘Well mate, what you think?’ Tim shrugged his shoulders.

‘If it were that easy then everybody would be giving it a go wouldn’t they,’
Bradley handed Tim and Cookie a business card each.

‘It is as easy as that, he said. Just you give me a ring on this number and if you like we can talk in greater detail. Don’t leave it too late though. Someone else may have the same idea as you Mr Cook. You may need to decide quickly if you want to turn this idea into something that you can grow into a sound business. Well, I have to be off now. You guys keep in touch. Nice to meet you.’ Tim looked at his watch and realised just how long they had been sitting in the pub. They had come out for a quick pint and they had been there ages.

‘Elaine will kill me,’ Tim said looking rather worried.

‘Just tell her you have been planning your future,’ Cookie said as they both headed for the door of the pub. Tim still wasn’t convinced.

‘Look, this is pie in the sky. This guy Hall, he is all talk. If setting up a business was so easy everyone would be a boss. We can’t all be bosses. Some people have to have someone telling them what to do, planning and organising things but most people are the workers, doing what ever they are told,’ Cookie looked at Tim angrily.

‘Someone with no ambition you mean. No get up and go, just waiting for the little woman at home to give you your orders for the day. Tim, this could be just the chance you need.’

As Tim walked through the car park he noticed other people were leaving the pub and getting into the flashy cars parked there. ‘They are doing alright for themselves. Why is it never my turn. ‘he thought.

CHAPTER TWO – MAKING IT WORK (This will be posted next week)