Retire In Pieces
A short dark story set in Thailand
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‘HERE WE ARE again,’ said Margaret Holloway, a 72-year-old widow with a deceptively sweet smile and a past she keeps to herself.
‘Why do you say that every day?’ said Bertie.
‘Well, we are, aren’t we?’
‘You say it as if you are surprised. Jesus, I know we are all old, but don’t rub it in.’
They all lived in the seaside town of Hua Hin, which was better suited to more relaxed guests than Pattaya, which catered to heavy drinking and lively visitors.
A gang of British retirees meet for coffee, biscuits and a daily chat over The Bangkok Post.
‘I take it you won’t be going for a dip in the sea?’ said Martin.
‘Ha, I never went in the cold waters of Brighton; why should I start here? Because it’s warm? There are all sorts of creepy crawlies under the waves,’ said Percy.
Percy, Martin, and a couple of others had Thai wives. The Thai ladies didn’t feel welcome at coffee mornings at the backstreet bar owned by another old British man, and they had better things to do.
The bar owner was a charming elderly Scot, Davie, ‘Morning, gang, how’s tricks?’
‘Yeah, great, Davie, thanks. Your wife not joining us?’
‘Nah, but I’ve got two bits of good news. One, I have a little cracker of a barmaid starting work tonight, if anyone fancies a glass or two at “happy hour”?’
‘Christ, you act like you’re older than us. What’s the second bit?’
‘Oh yeah, let me introduce you to Dennis “The Shark” Whitmore", new in town.’ Davie looks around and spots his man at the bar. ‘Oy, Denny, get over ‘ere.’
Dennis is immaculate in pressed shorts and a bright orange Lacoste shirt. ‘Hi, all, pleased to meet you,’ he smiled a beam never seen in East London.
‘Hi, I’m Margaret, but call me Mags; everyone does. You look too young to be retired like the rest of us?’
‘I’m what you may call part time; if I spot an opportunity, I dive in.’
‘I see. Is that how you got your nickname? The Shark.’
‘Er, oh, who told you that?’
‘Davie, as he called you over. Why don’t they know you by that name?’
‘Well, yes. But think of it as you suggested, the shark swimming for chances to earn a bit as a solid income.’
‘I didn’t think otherwise. What are you diving into at the moment? Anything you can share with us poor retirees?’
‘Actually, it just so happens I may have just the thing.’
‘Don’t look at us; we are all skint,’ said Martin. The others mumbled their agreement.
‘Yeah, but you’d all love to change that, wouldn’t you?’ said Dennis.
The salesman gathered them around and lowered his voice as if imparting a state secret. ‘I’ve been invited to join on the ground floor, as it were, to invest in a luxury beachfront condominium project. The land was bought for a real bargain from an old farmer with Alzheimer’s; he didn’t know what day it was.’
The coffee drinkers all looked at each other.
Dennis continued, ‘The Thai builders are trying to make a name for themselves, and I was offered the chance to work with him. So a great deal all around.’
‘Yeah, but we can’t afford our rent, let alone a fancy condo,’ said Percy.
‘No, you’ve got me wrong; I don’t mean live there; I mean to make a killing with the investment.’
Margaret was deep in thought. ‘Are you offering us a cheap deal that will make us rich?’
‘Sure, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,’ said Dennis.
Margaret pressed her hands on the table and leaned forward. ‘Right, guys, you all know me. Can you trust my judgement?’
They all nodded. She passed her notebook and a pen. ‘Jot down your bank card details, and the most you can afford to gamble, I mean to invest in a building project.’
They all looked at each other and spotted Mags winking to each in turn. They filled in their details. She passed the paper to Dennis, who grunted.
‘Maybe it will help if I add my bit?’
She covered her hand as she wrote £500,000, which only Dennis could see; his mouth dropped, and his eyes widened.
‘Come to my place, Dennis. We can complete the paperwork.’ Dennis jumped to attention.
‘We’ll go in your car; I’ll return for my bike later.’
The ride took less than ten minutes. Margaret opened the front door and pointed to a seat at the dining table.
‘Can I make you a tea or coffee?’
‘Maybe something stronger to celebrate our deal with?’
‘Please don’t rush things. I’ve signed nothing yet. Coffee?’
‘Eh, yeah, fine, thanks, milk and two sugars, please.’
When the kettle popped, the hostess nipped to the kitchen area behind her guest. She placed one hand on Dennis’s shoulder and said, ‘Behind you, I’m holding a huge pot of boiling water. I want you to remain seated and silent.’
She tipped the kettle, so a few drips splashed on her guest’s neck. He squealed.
‘I said, quiet. Now, slowly empty your pockets.’
He did as ordered. ‘Now, open your phone apps. I need to see your bank details. Don’t forget this water is still bubbling.’ She sniggered. Then, carrying on, ‘You are not as rich as I hoped. Never mind. Divide that amount by the number of names on the paper.’
‘What?’
‘You heard,’ as more water dripped on the back of his head. ‘If you suddenly move, the hot liquid will hit your head. So don’t risk it.’
‘These guys I met, the ones who gave their bank card details, I understand, but who is this Thai name?’
‘That is a man who helps me in tricky situations. He will be here in a minute.’
Dennis hesitated until another splash landed home. Using the phone’s calculator to work out the amounts needed. ‘Where is your name?’
‘Dear boy, my late husband earned enough for me to retire comfortably, thank you.’
Dennis finished his task, and Margaret leaned over and read the iPhone screen.
‘Well done, you will have pleased a small group of retirees.’
The kettle emptied over Dennis’s head, burning his hair off, blinding him and boiling his chubby pink skin. He fell to the floor. The doorbell rang.
She pointed down.
‘Get rid of that, please. You see an amount has already been entered into your account.’
As the door closed, she sat and dreamed of life before. Sure, in the good old days, her husband did work in the city, but not as a banker, as she told her friends.
Margaret joined her cheery gang for a hot drink and a celebration cake. ‘Sorry guys, not the profits Dennis promised, but at least a quick turnaround for your investment.’
The END
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That photo was enough to frighten me, and the story fulfilled the promise. The boiling water was a gruesome idea, nice and original and horribly compelling. Another great tale!