Lying on a bed, alone, a young man neaded inspiration, where could it come from, he had dreamed, prayed, wished, for years, in fact, his bed was the only place that he was anywere near, to happiness.
The bed was dirty, the sheets were on the floor, on top of him was a large brown overcoat.
The coat, double lined was made for an officer and gentleman, to keep him warm at the Somme, but what wasnt expected was that it would one day be home to a family of fleas,
Douglas, had gone past, showing concern about fleas.. the temperature, was now above 40,s he felt comfortable. the warmest he had been for months,
He was gazing through the single window, of a one room flat. it had been his mothers during the war.
He had lived in the flat alone for over 2 years, all he seemed to do was sleep, work, and dream. of a better life. he had left school at 14 under the care of Doctor Banardos, and made is way back to his home town.
He remembered his mother and her wish for a better start in life for him, than the one she carved out for herself.
“Work Hard and never lose the Dream”
In his case the dream would normally be, for something to eat, but not today he was going much further past his stomach. he was dreaming his mothers dreams.
Of a family, nice cloths, money in the bank, loving children,and food a plenty.dreams held by many in the 40/50s, but fullfilled by less.
As he looked out of the window, he could see, flowers, from a wooden window box. and a blue sky, just a lovely clear blue sky, that is free for all, the flowers, had been bedded 20 years before. and every season they did what nature required of them, forcing there way past, much stronger, and enduring weeds, to reach the sky.
One day this room had been part of a nice well maintained house,, and during its, heyday they had built solid window boxes, containing all sorts of flowers, most had died off smothered by weeds and lack of care.
And although the box, hadnt been cultivated for years, a few Rose,s had won the annual battle and survived.
As he jumped out of the bed, his eye line took his gaze to the street, below, no longer blue skys and flowers, but the dustbins and a tip. brought about by years of neglect.the only Rosies seen there would come out, a little later after the Red Lion, had shut its doors and let the drunks congregate amongst them.
Back on the bed his thoughts began to drift back a few years, to when the first WW2 bombs had fallen on Birmingham, his mother became convinced that because she lived in close proximity to a munition works, it was inevitable that her son would be evacuated.and she was right.
It had all seemed so exiting, his first train ride,he was even part of a trial evacuation, the bombing, never happened, however on the 22nd of November they had the night of Fear, hundreds of Bombs fell on the city. within a few days, Douglas his mother, grandfather and an uncle, stood at Moore Street Station to watch there boy, in Blazer, paper bag, in hand sandwiches, a brand new cap.. and round his neck, a card with all his details. depart to mid Wales.
A young Lad of 5 could go no further than 350 Miles, it might as well have been on the moon.
At a later time when ever asked about his Evacuation in Wales, Douglas would act dumb, if lucky he may have told you, that he was brought back, 3 years later to see his mother, who was very ill, but two days to late, to see her or the funeral. and if on agood night, he may have mentioned his second most upsetting event that was when the uncle who had promised him that “You will always have me to look after you” happened to be formen in chief, at the Birmingham Small Arms Division, Small Heath,, along with 250 of the wives, mothers and sisters, of Brum, who were on the wrong end.of a stray bomb falling on the corner of the 4 story factory, demolishing all there dreams along with Douglas,s last hope.when the whole buiding collapsed.
Why was it that he couldnt make ends meet, even at 17 he was a hard worker, he was even willing to work, more than, what was expected of him. but after every week, there was never anything left.to show for the work.
He had no one, even his grand father who had taken him to the evacuation train, was missing ,presumed. dead. and his little house remembered fondly by the lad,, now a prosperous second hand car lot.
But it was the flower that had given the Lad insperation,it neaded help, just like he did. and although he was no gardener, it seemed that this Rose, was the one that required help.the most.
Opening the window was a battle royal and for a moment, anyone with a weak disposition would have just. carried on with there mundane, life, but no Douglas was inspired.
The dirt in the flower box, was as hard as a brick, and yet the weeds had found it so easy to servive, yet this one flower, had struggled, managed, every year unnoticed by the young lad.and done it.
Its a pitty that the boy had never been religeous for I am sure he would have found, some solace from the new testiment.if he had known were to look, there had been a bible in the room but it had disapeared with his mother.
All he knew was that he could help a little, the first time he had ever been called upon to help. anything, so with a table fork, he tore at the weeds removing every one,of them, including there roots, the only time he doubted his course of action was when his finger was ripped to threads. not by the weeds but the very flower that he was trying to protect.
As soon as he had completed his task he got ready for work and although he was over an hour to early for his job, as cleaner, in the meat market., he seemed born again, he wanted to be early, skipping not sauntering.
In fact Douglas would never saunter again.
Chapter 2.
I doubt that the day went any different to any other. but in Douglas,s mind it was different, he certainly worked harder, no extra wages he was working for fun, anyone watching him. or if there had been a time and motion expert there they would have said
“Are you crackers Douglas”
Why work harder than nesesary for the same wages, dont make scence.
But the Lad had become a workaholic
It must have been a month before he achieved his breakthough, less than a week before xmas.
“Dougie can you get up early in the morning”
The lad was surprised by the question, but quick with his reply,” I can get up at any time I dont nead much sleep. and certainly if I am going to earn something”.
“Right then, you get up at 4.0 on Saturday and go to the Market Office, I will be there and tell you what to do”.
He was up even before the Lark,
“Morning Douglas, in a moment, the Council in charge of the Birmingham Market Stalls, will carry out a draw for sights, just put this paper in the bag with your name on it and I will do the rest”.
The draw was for the premiur pitches along, the Bull Ring, the most prestigeous, just above some steps leading into the indoor market. punters coming from the market would be right on top of pitch number one,
The numbers would then go down the hill towards the Church of St Martins
After about 1/2 an hour the draw commenced,
Douglas had drawn pitch number 2. and for his troubles he received £35. a tremendous amount,
“Thank you very much. for your effort, have you ever worked a market. Lad.??”
Of course the answer was no, he had done nothing else other than clean up the blood and guts, of Cowes Pigs and Sheep.
“Tell you what come ,on saturday and I will give you some stock to graft”.
What stock ???
“Well I will work number two pitch, but you can work the number 32, the one I have drawn.”
Douglas was surprised but exited.
“Look lad there is nothing to it, I will get you £50 worth of Balloons, I will also surply the FLASH.”
What he ment by Flash was the prop, that all balloon sellers display. gives the impression that all the balloon are jumbo in size.when they are not.
“You sell the others at half a dozen for a Shilling,
If you sell out you will take over a £100. Give me £60 back for the stock and you will have earned
£40.”
“All you have to do is call out.”
“Get your xmas Balloons The harder you blow the bigger they Go”
Douglas was shy at the best of times, but it wasnt long before he got the gist.
“All Amercian Jaz, the harder you blow the bigger they go”
He was sold out before dinner time,
The Market Grafter was amazed by the Lads grafting ability, for someone so young he had what was neaded to make it in the Market Game.and certainly waisted sweeping floors.
He was leaning every day, he had picked up a little backslang, and although the slang,was ussually found in the betting profeshion, it was also common for Butchers, and there staff, to converse in such a way.
Douglas was comming out of his shell, he loved the market game.
Every sort of goods grafted, Silk Stockings, Handkerchiefs, even a man called Jimmy Poppit, who had little balls that could be popped together to make a bracelet or neck chain, 1 ft long or any lenth required. by now Douglas had given up his cleaning job and was a fully fledged grafter.
One day he won his spurs, he was grafting right down the line selling Handkerchiefs,
“Ramp Stamped and made in Ireland” not one of his best days, it wasnt his speal, just not a good day. it was damp, and cold, and the crowd sparse.
Right on the end of the line, was Doctor Foster, he was an escentic, not well known in the midlands, but had travelled down from Bradford.
Called Doctor, he only ever grafted, medicens and potions, the problem was that he was flounting the law, illegal to promote yourself as a doctor, and that doesnt count all the by laws he was breaking.
This day he was selling lozengers out of a 2 ft jar,. the tiny man was standing above all the other grafters in the line on a wodden stool,his speal was nothing if not brilliant.
Cough, Cough, Splutter, Spit, It was a great day for him every one of the punters in the vercinty must have had a cold,
In his hand was a plastic head, and the Doc was pointing to the throut, “this is were your tonzells are.” as if any one neaded telling.
My Lozengers, will attack any virus, or germ, at once,
6 pence a packet,
He was doing brilliantly, hand over fist he could hardly. fill the packets fast enough.
Gather round, Cough Splutter, thank you sir or madam.
Douglas was choked that he himself hadnt sold one handkerchief, but at the same time astounded by the trade, his next door grafter was doing.
It was then that a funny thing occured, and was picked up by the lad at once. a policeman was seen, aprouching his position,
Down went the Doctor,moving his equipment, behind Douglas,s box, and disapeared.
After the copper had gone he reapeared, as if by magic.
It was clear that he was petrified, of the police,
Douglas was still failing to exite, those with a runny noes, he was wishing he had some lozengers,himself,
Sniff, Cough, off the Doctor went again, picking up were he had left off.
It was then that Douglas pulled the first of his trading strokes, nothing serious or illegal, but still a stroke.
In the distance, he could see, the original Policemen. still hovering about, and the Doctor looking every were between his trading.
“DOC Its ON YA” Douglas Shouted.
Taken by storm, the Quack. picked up his takings, and off he ran towards, New Street Station. Douglas never took his eyes off the man until he disapeared.
He had left his “Head” the prop and a half full Jar of Lozengers. ,
Nothing happened for a while,
The young lad had become a chancer. and had moved from a shy little floor sweeper, to a clever grafter, it was an amazing transformation..
Moving one site down, Douglas began to graft, Cough, Splutter, Spit,
get rid of your coughs and colds, with my specially made lozengers,
The rest of the afternoon, he was non stop. selling almost all in the jar, he even sold several packets of handerchiefs,
The stroke, if thats what you should call it is still mentioned in market folk law, and the lad was a hero. in the passageways and shop fronts, used by todays flyers,
Even Carlas, the Birmingham Escapolodist, knew him by name, Douglas, had become a known face.
In his turn, the lad became an expert, of knowing what to graft, and at what price to pitch the goods,
It was enevitable also that he would move up to wholesale, using any up and comming new kids on the block. to graft his goods.
By the time he was 20. he had his own, retail goods establishement.
At 30 he was a very wealthy, trader. tireless. he worked every minute of the day, no longer in the little flat, he had gone to a better part of Brum. when he moved. he left every thing there even a new, bed that he had purchased with his first little touch. he had certainly disgaurded the over coat.
Every thing except, the Window Box, that found its way to the datached 4 bedroom home.
Still not married he used to say there will be plenty of time for that, when he had made his first million.
,
Still a little shy, but once started he could converse, on any subject, having learned from the many books that he had purchased. and read.
The Window Box, was in a prominant, position by his front door, still only one rose, but the dirt had been replaced with only the very best soil.
Douglas never braged about his success, and when ever he held a dinner party, for his buisness, coleuges, they had to prompt, him to discuss the pit falls and ups and downs of life.
He never forgot his mother,however and Douglas had taken a black and white photo of her when free from pain, and had it copied in oil. and placed in a prominent position in his lounge there was never a day, that he looked up at her and smiled.
It was on his 40th Birthday that Douglas, fell in love, and not surpisingly. the girl was from a poor background, and more so, the same colour and stature of his late mother.,dark complexion brown eyes.
At the same time he was not going undetected, quite a few mothers of his buisness coleages, were ignoring his age, and had him rubber stamped for there daughters,
However true to his word, there was only one love in his life and that was Marie,
The girl was almost 16 years younger, although Douglas held his age well.
They were married. in St Martins Church just a few yards down form his Doctor Foster escapade.
But that was in the past, he had even moved again, and lived at Stratford upon Avon in in an old ansestral home, his dream of Home, Family, and Food a plenty, was lacking just one, requirment Family,
Marie hadnt for the want of trying, conceived, and by the time Douglas had reached, 45, there was a little concern.not when but if.
Emajine the happyness when his wife anounced not only that she was pregnant, but they had been told it was going to be a son and heir.
All the trimmings, of a joyess occasion, were in place, the 15 bedroom, home done out as it would have been, when owned by the late Earl, Dudley,
The boys bedroom had every thing a lords child, would require rocking horses the lot. no Soldiers, Overcoat, to keep this lad warm, and although Douglas was quick to tell anyone listening that he was from the Slums of Brum, he was wealthy and very few resented the fact.
Douglas was now in to property speculation not only in the midlands but abroad, there was nothing to stop his mothers son, or her sons son.
The first inkling that something could be amiss, was in the hospital.Douglas was asked to leave the room,
The birth had gone perfectly, however the boy a large 8 lb was breached, and his frail mother was struggling, even with a father who could buy and sell, anything, and with the midlands leading gynocologist in charge, of the vivisection.
Marie Died, leaving a distressed child and a distraught father. alone.
Chapter 3
For days Douglas lay in his bedroom heavly sedated, when awake, inconsolable, he had lost the only real love of his life, even the funeral had been conducted, without his pressence, Marie,s Parents, who had dreamed of better things for there only child conducted, themselves with great dignity.
It was over a month before Douglas ussually a very strong individual, began to recover. all close friends, in these type of circumstances, are ready to gather round offering condolences and wishes, however this was different, every one was running a mile, as if petrified, to see him,
everone was hoping that the inevitable question would never be asked.
How is the baby.???
Ever since being plucked from his mothers, broken body. tests had been conducted, during the moments, of pure panic, the child had been denied sufficient oxegon. and was in a very serious plight 2 of the countrys, leading pediatricions, had been present, , in fact Professor, Maxwell, Stone, the countries expert in the field, had given all his time free, 0ne of the reasons may well have been that there had been neglegance in the timing of the mothers emergancy caesarean.
Oxygen starvation had occured.
How on earth would father take this disastrous blow, his son 8lb and perfect in every other way except a possibility of sevear Cerebrial Palsy,
The day that Douglas arrived to see Mr Stone, was heart rendering, not one to beat about the bush, the Professor went right to the point.
Your son suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury at birth and it is a mirracle that he survived.
As father son. and were reunited, you would have thought, the baby was perfect in every way, only the tubes, and monitors, would have created any doubt as to his well being.
Douglas spent, every moment of his days, reading, consulting, all the known experts,, every penny that he had accumalated would be available money is nothing, in cases like this, “I wont let you down Marie”
It was a wonderful day when the boy was christened, Christopher Adam, and although he wasnt allowed out of the hospital, the vicar, who had conducted the wedding, arranged the service in the Hospital Church
When the time came for Christopher to come home, The old Window Box, was painted blue, and the flowers, had been added to, there were scores of well wishers, present, Douglas would never, except that he was other than a wonderful healthy baby. the main office were Douglas would do all his multy global trading, had been refitted, so that Christopher was within arms lenth, of his father,at all times.
A full time Pedeatric Nurse on call every moment, all the ussual boys, colours and designs covered the walls. it was like a massive, play room, the child would want for nothing, however the one thing that father prayed for every day,was not available, natural breathing,and a normal life.
The synopsis was poor, he would never walk or talk, in fact breathing was his only concern. trips all round the world to leading pedeatric centres, Boston, even Moscow, proved frueteless. and by the time he was 10. there had been no improvement in his condition.
The teddy bears, had been replaced with, star war characters, but still it was not certain that Christopher could destinguish between the two.,
Douglas, had decided to refit his Office, bringing it up to date, with, technolodgy. monitors, lap tops, vidio links, all the works, important for a leader of commerce, and perhaps good fun. and visual for the boy.even on line conferences, were conducted in the boys presence.
And classical music, on tap.
Christopher spent several hours a day,in a chair, next to his father, surrounded by breathing apparatus, but in front of him, his father had reproduced every similar piece, of his equipment, for the boy even if he was never to use it, at least it was there for him.
What had occured though was that Douglas had become a complete introvert, it was years since he had set foot outside his home, although he was still making fortunes, in property development, stocks and shares, his holdings were so far spread, that only the master new were and what equity he held.
On Christophers 16th Birthday, a new development, an improvement in after care for his brain disorder, allowed him to sit, at a chair, facing his computor, screen, in fact there had been a very slight movement, in the boys little finger in his right hand,
More tests took place, but non of the worlds leading experts on the brain. could see, the sigificance.
No one seemed to even notice that the boy was touching the little mouse. as if trying to comunicate.
It was at this stage that Douglas bowed to the years of advice, and decided that unless he got a little time, away from his office, and the sad plight of Christopher, his own health would deteriate,
His secretary, convinced him that the boy, would be in good hands whilst he was away, and helped him arrange a 4 week fly/cruise. arround the Carabean. apprehensive, he decided to go.
