Stone Marconi

"Stone"! What sort of poxy name is that?"
Stone laughed rather too loudly in order for it to seem natural. As if
he thought for one moment that someone taking the piss out of his name
was the least bit funny.
"Stone"! the man continued raising his voice even louder (he knew he
was on to a winner) Christ, magine namin yer kid Stone, fuckin' poofs
name if ever I heard one..."
And so it continued. As he relaxed afterwards back in his office Stone
could be philosophical about it. The price of fame, he thought.
Everyone's a critic, he thought. Always some prick out there wanting to
have a go, he thought. In a word, Jealousy. Was it his fault he
happened to be a successful, good looking, television
personality-?
That was the problem with this town, as soon as somebody started to
make something of himself they had to try and take him down. The
general masses couldn't handle the fact that Stone had made a name for
himself, risen out of the ghetto. Working class bastards.
Anyway it was the last time he was going to that pub for a lunchtime
pint. Not that he was embarrassed about the incident, it wasn't that,
he actually handled it quite well, he thought, kept his dignity, didn't
lose his temper, even managed to laugh with the cunt.
A lesser man would have taken the cheeky prick outside and kicked his
head in, but what would be the point in that ? No, he handled it quite
well, said to the barman he was late for an appointment and quickly
left. No problem.
Besides the chap was obviously drunk and there was no honour in hitting
a drunk man
And stupid, obviously thick as shit, no honour in hitting a man thick
as shit. Might as well let the idiot have his five minutes of fame. So
he can brag about it to his mates later that night.
" Never guess who I seen in the pub at lunchtime ?" Who? "None other
than Stone Marconi" !
Stone Marconi! they would ask agog and then the bullshit brickie would
make up some story about how he slagged Stone off, only he didn't ,
honest. Bastard.
Stone sat back in his leather chair sipping his whisky and puffing
nervously on his cigarette. At last he could relax amid the leather and
glass, the wood and fake marble which made up his office.
He placed his feet on the edge of the desk and pushed himself back,
tilting his head back so he could blow clouds of smoke towards the
ceiling. Janice his secretary entered. Stone startled out of his
reverie let his foot slip off the edge of the desk and fell forward,
unable to stop himself, cigarette in one hand, whisky in the other,
momentum such that his forehead slammed off the desk. It landed on the
fake mahogany and stayed there with a dull thump,
Janice muttered an "Oh" and waited for Stone to lift his head. He
didn't. The secretary wondered if he was all right, but since he still
held the cigarette in his right hand and the whisky in his lef, she
tried to be optomistic..
Eventually Stone raised himself up from the desk. There was a large red
mark in the middle of his forehead. Placing his un- spilled glass on
the table and stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray, he felt the
middle of his forehead.
"If there's a lump, you're fired"
Janice ignored this comment, indeed seemed to ignore the fact he'd hit
his head at all.
"There's a Robert Thomas to see you"
"Never heard of him"
" Well, he says you're good friends"
"They all say that, what does he look like" ?
"He's old"
As soon as Janice mentioned the word old Stone knew who she was talking
about. Bob Mackintosh. There were many old people in the world but only
one as old as Bob Mackintosh. It had to be him.
"Bob Mackintosh"? asked Stone
"That's him" replied Janice helpfully
"Then tell him to go away, tell him I can't see him under any
circumstances. Tell him I'm dead, tell him anything, please Janice, I
couldn't face him today"
"He's says it's urgent. Anyway I've already said you'll see him. I
don't know why you're worried , he seems a sweet old man."
"Oh he does, does he ?, well thanks for that , but I'm afraid you're
not the one who has to sit here and listen to him go on and on talking
about nothing for hours on end" He lit up another cigarette.
Stone's secretary, as ever, revelled in Stones discomfort. "Well I'm
going to send him in anyway" and with that she walked out to the
reception. Stone stubbed out his cigarette he had just lit up and put
his head in his hands. He had to get himself a new secretary.
He picked up his tie from his desk and started to put it on. At the
same time he slipped his feet back into his shoes which he had taken
off and then proceeded to tidy up his desk, putting the bottle of
whisky in the desk drawer. As he did so the door opened and Janice led
in Bob.
"Thank you Janice"
Bob Mackintosh was indeed a very old man. A very, very old man. How old
in fact it was impossible to say but suffice to say Stone had never
seen a man so old, so wrinkled, so decrepit as Bob.
Bob entered Stone's office, slowly. He was wearing an old green and
blue chequered scarf wrapped tightly round his neck. he was also
wearing an old cream coloured raincoat. Its original colour probably
being white. Thin red hair covered a large white head. He wore thick
rimless glasses which enlarged his eyes to such an extent it looked as
if they were joke glasses with painted on eyes you would buy in a
novelty shop.
In one hand he held a brown tartan cap. In the other, defying gravity,
he leant at a steep angle on a thin stick which Stone assumed was
supposed to be some kind of cane.
At first Bob didn't speak but breathed audibly through an open mouth,
his head bowed and he looked up at Stone with lifeless bloodshot eyes,
like a guilty dog waiting to be smacked.
"Bob, good to see you! Long time no see! Christ you're looking well,
Bob" .
Bob greeted Stone's welcome without a flicker of recognition. Undaunted
Stone moved forward and taking Bob by the hand started to lead him to a
chair in front of his desk. For Stone, touching Bob was like putting
your hand into a bowl of raw sewage. He felt nauseous.
This wasn't helped by Stone detecting a faint aroma around Bob which
only confirmed Stone's impression that he was in physical contact with
a walking jobbie.
Nevertheless, Stone tried ignore this aroma, and for the sake of
customer relations put any scent down to natural decay.
"Where have you been Bob, it's been ages since I seen you, too busy to
visit an old friend, eh"? Bob continued to remain silent concentrating
on getting to the seat without falling over.
"Never mind, never mind, sit yourself down there, that's right, that's
right in front of the desk."
After what seemed a small eternity Stone and Bob arrived at the brown
leather chair and Bob sat down with an exhausted sigh. Once seated and
having recovered his breath, He finally spoke.
"Thank's Mr Marconi, ye're an awfy kind man, awfy kind"
" Not at all, Bob, not at all, its just so good to see you again, so
tell me why do I have the pleasure" ?
" Ye see Mr Marconi, I know ye're a bizy man an everythin,' but well ye
see I have this wee problem I mean no a problem actually, mair a
situation like, an inconvenience ye could say...."
Stone waited, it had already started, the waiting an eternity for Bob
to say something meaningful. Stone sat in front of Bob, hands clasped,
a look of concern on his face. " Well, you know me Bob, anything to
help a friend"
The voice was sincere if not the words, it was the best that stone
could manage. He certainly wasn't in the mood for an old man's
ramblings, his incoherent mumblings which did nothing more than make
Stone regret the passing of time.
Bob rattled on, never really saying anything and never ever saying why
he was there in the first place. So Stone waited and waited, waited to
catch a glimpse of why Bob was there wasting Stones precious
time.
" So anyway Mister Stone, ye know how's the weathers been n'all so ah
hivnae been able tae really do much 'cept stay in n, that apart frae
the day course, being here n, everything so ah wiz thinkin....."
The minutes ticked by and Bob continued to explain himself without
actually explaining anything. Finally Stone's patience snapped.
" Listen Bob, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you short there, you
see..."
" No, no, Mr Stone, please it won't take a minute, I know ye're a bizy,
bizy man, no like me course, ah'm no bizy at all, no bizy at all,
nothing to do all day but watch telly, n' like ah said, that's why ah'm
here"
" So why are you here Bob"?
"The telly, ah said ah seen ye oan the telly"
At this Stone brightened up a little. Call it vanity and Stone was
certainly a vain man ( He had an irritating habit of pointing to his
face and shouting 'This is all real you know') and television for him
was a vain man's dream.
"Oh you seen my T. V. show ? well hope I didn't disappoint you"
"No, no ye were very good, very good indeed, apart from the
sweating"
"The sweating"?
"Aye the sweating, if ye don't mind me saying ye had an awfy sweaty
forehead"
Stone could take criticism. In theory. In reality listening to an old
nobody complain that he had a sweaty forehead he felt like picking Bob
up by the scruff of the neck and throwing him out the window.
"Well you see Bob" Stone tried to explain through gritted teeth
"Television studios are very hot places, they've got huge lights and
things you wouldn't understand. It's quite easy to start sweating"
Nevertheless Stone thought to himself he would have to have a word with
that idiot make-up girl. She was completely useless.
"But as I said Bob, I'm sure you didn't just come to talk about my
television career. What can I do for you"?
"Well ye see it's ma telly"
"Your telly, television, right, what about your telly"?
"Well, like ah said, ah wiz watchin, yersel' then later oan in the
afternoon ah wiz waitin, fur Countdown tae start when jist like that
everythin goes black"
"You mean you passed out"
"Naw, ma telly passed out"
Stone was quickly running out of patience and he didn't have much in
the first place. Bob had been there for over half an hour and Stone
still didn't have any clue as to why. All he did was talk about his
television set and Stone decided enough was enough. He stood up.
"Listen Bob, I'm really sorry about your television but these things
happen. I really don't see how I can help you"
"Well, ye see Mrs McTavish from up the stair was saying I should get
one of these new televisions"
"You mean wide screen"?
"No, colour"
"Your television was black and white"? enquired Stone
"Aye, it was that, oh it lasted me a long time. Bought it in 1965 but I
was thinking of taking Mrs McTavishes advice"
"Well, it seems good advice to me. You won't be able to watch Richard
Whitely without a Television, so what's the problem"?
Bob seemed slightly embarrassed and bowed his head.
"......Eh well ye see it's just I've no got much money at the moment,
My pension just about covers me for food and heating, ye know, so I
hivnae got much spare cash ye see"
He knew it. Just knew it. The old bastard was after money. Of all the
cheek. To come here and waste Stones precious time and then to ask for
money! Stone tried to control his anger
"Really Bob, I've love to help ye out but you know times are hard for
all of us"
"Ah know that Mister Stone, and believe me ah don't like asking but I
was thinking about the money ah gave you"
"The money?.....Oh you mean your high return investment! Well what
about it"?
"Well, it's been two years since I gave you the money and when I gave
it to you, you said em,,,,,,,"
Bob seemed ill at ease. He didn't like to ask for money even when in
this case it was his own money he was asking for.
"No, go on Bob, don't hold back, tell me" said Stone still raging at
the gall of the old man
"Well" continued Bob "Ye said I would double my money in six months.
Guaranteed ye said. That money was all ah had. It was my life savings.
To tell ye the truth ah kind of regret giving it to you, ah mean two
years and ah still havnae seen one penny of it back"
Stone sat back down in his chair. All this moaning about a trivial
three thousand pounds he thought. It really was pathetic. Nevertheless
he would have to placate his investor. It was part of his job
"Listen Bob, I know I said ye were almost, almost mind, guaranteed to
double your money but you know as well as I do how fickle the financial
markets can be. It's a bad time for the markets at the moment but as
soon as they pick up, I promise you you'll get your money back.
Sometimes these things take longer than expected.
"That's no what they're saying on the television" protested Bob,
finding a little courage out of his desperation. The thought of having
no television for the foreseeable future frightened the old man.
"They're saying on television the markets are good. Never been a better
time they said. In fact ye said it yerself only the other day on that
lunchtime show."!
"Yes well, there's investments and investments. You shouldn't believe
everything you hear on television" Stone smiled but Bob continued to
look back at him with a blank look on his face.
"Look I'm sorry Mr Stone all I'm asking is some money to buy a new
television, or even a second hand one, ah'm no caring it's just I've
nothing else to do all day but watch telly, Ah'd go spare without it.
After all Ah did give ye over three thousand pounds."!
"And like I said you'll get double back in good time, once the markets
pick up but I can't hand money over just like that. What would people
think? I'm a financial consultant. Listen I'm sorry about your
television but I'm going to have to ask you to leave"
Without warning Stone forcibly picked Bob up by the elbow and marched
him towards the door. Bob struggled to keep pace his legs flailing in
the air, in an effort to keep himself upright.
"But Mister Stone, Mister Stone!" Stone opened his office door from
where he could see Janice reading a magazine
Stone dumped the old man in the reception area before Janice's desk.
"Janice please assist Mr Mackintosh out the building, He's not as young
as he used to be"
"Mister Stone, This is no fair, All a'hm asking is for some of my money
back" Janice didn't react. She had seen it all before. Many times. But
then Suddenly a thought came to Stone and his attitude changed
"Oh hang on a minute Bob, perhaps I'm being a bit hasty here, maybe
there is something we can do"
Bob brightened. A frightened smile appearing on his face "Yes"?
"Mrs Mctavish" ! said Stone
"Mrs McTavish"? asked Bob
"Yes Mrs Mctavish" continued Stone. "If she's so full of ideas about
you buying new televisions, why don't you ask her for the money!"
"Eh"? said Bob, feeling slightly unwell.
"Well Bob" said Stone "It was really nice seeing you again, remember if
you have any other problems I can help you with don't hesitate to ask,
but I won't be able to see you next time without an appointment. I'm a
very busy man" and with that he walked back into his office and slammed
the door shut.