A Good Year
by
Reagan Kavanagh and Diana Walker
This
work of adult fiction – loosely based on characters portrayed
by Russell Crowe
– includes adult language and experiences; you have been
warned. No
copyright infringement on the original
work is intended. ©Reagan
Kavanagh and
Diana Walker 2006
Conference Room, Thorne, Espan, and O’Reilly
1100 hours
TERRY
“I’d no idea it had been such a good year.”
“Nor had I, though we are certainly due it.”
“Best we’ve had since we opened the doors. It looked good to me when I closed out the books and sent them off to the accountants, and they reported back that I’d underplayed it. That’s when I called in the forensic accountants …I wanted to be very fucking sure everything was straight across the board. We’re clean as a whistle and have room to play.”
Max sat back in his chair, elbows on the arm rests, and tented his fingers as he looked from me to Dino.
“Am I to understand that and for the year just closed, we have more than two-point-five million in corporate discretionary funds after taxes at our disposal?” Dino nodded.
“That’s about the size of it, Buddy. I’ve been willing to do our investing until now, but this is too rich for my blood. We need a real, honest-to-God investment broker, someone who knows the law – domestic and international – on investments and who has balls big enough to take this and make the firm self-sufficient. In addition to our already significant slush fund, this windfall would let us be our own bankers. Either of you got any ideas? I don’t think Scott-Trades is gonna do it for us.” Max smiled.
“I believe I know someone …let me make a call.”
MAXIMUS
“La Siroque.”
“Mr. Skinner. My name is Max Espan. A mutual acquaintance – Gemma Pradeep – gave me your name. She is of the opinion you may be able to assist my firm with our investments.”
“Gemma! Lovely girl; very sharp. She’s a bit more than an acquaintance, actually; she was my assistant inLondon
“So I understand.”
“Bright girl, Gemma. The problem is that I’m no longer in investments, Mr. Espan. I’ve gone native as it were, become a vintner.”
“I understand that, Mr. Skinner; however, please hear me out. At present we have a three-way partnership, though we likely will be bringing in a fourth individual in the near future. We serve a specialised niche in the risk management arena. We have had an unusually lucrative year and find ourselves with approximately two-and-a-half million in discretionary funds at our disposal.”
If I had expected the amount to impress Max Skinner, I was to be disappointed. Max Skinner had made twice that amount in fifteen minutes on more than one occasion. Fortunately, such was not my expectation, and I knew I must convince him to see me …to see us, as we would all make the journey.
“Mr. Espan, ….”
“Mr. Skinner, permit me to visit you and make my case. I truly believe you will be intrigued with what I propose. I can be there next week, if that is acceptable.” There was a long silence before he spoke again.
“Very well. Do you knowProvence
“I know the area, and I speak French quite fluently. Obtaining directions at the local level will not pose a problem. What day would be convenient for you?”
“Shall we say Tuesday or perhaps Wednesday?”
“I will fly in fromDallas
“I shall see you on Wednesday.” I disconnected before Max Skinner could ask additional questions. Terry, Dino, and I were on American Airlines flight 48, departingDallas
We would take Eurail from the airport toAvignon
In addition to our business proposition, we debated the advisability of simply telling Skinner who he was and who we were; we came to no conclusion. We would – as Dino put it – play it by ear. We did not care for the fact that Diana, Cassandra, and Ellen would not be with us on this occasion of perhaps bringing a new incarnation into our circle, but it could not be helped. We would pray that, if we had to discuss his origins, this would not be the circumstance on which the dreaded butterfly would take wing.
We drove into the car park at the chateau at a quarter to eleven and knocked on the door. A woman – Madame Duflot – answered the door and showed us to Skinner’s office. I heard her tell him that I was not alone. Skinner stood and started round his desk as we entered, then stopped suddenly. The hand that had been extended moved back to his body as he crossed his arms over his chest and leant against his desk, his eyes moving rapidly from one to the next of us. His voice was firm when he spoke.
“Well, then. It appears we have more to discuss than the opening of an investments account. Gentlemen, please, take your seats.”
Saint-Pons , Provence
MAX SKINNER
I didn’t know what was going on, but I was looking at three very dangerous men even though they were dressed in business attire, two of whom looked like me. The one in the middle reminded me of the father of a girl I’d dated briefly whilst at uni; her old man was a general. The man to his right looked at the others before speaking; he was Australian. His words sent a chill down my spine.
“Is Fanny Chenal here? Is she on the premises?”
I shook my head. “She isn’t available. Why?”
“Get her here …now. Mr. Skinner, we have no negative intentions toward either you or Ms. Chenal. In point of fact, our concern is ensuring that the two of you remain together and safe.” His tone didn’t brook disagreement. The concern in his voice and the looks on all three faces suggested that Fanny and I were in some sort of danger; I have sufficient, disgruntled, influential investors that retaliation was a possibility. It seemed they were here to protect us rather than presenting that danger. Uncharacteristically for me, I picked up my phone and waited for her voice.
“Max! Pourquoi appelez-vous tellement tôt?
“You need ….”
“En français, Max.”
“Not NOW, Fanny. You need to come home immediately. Don’t ask questions, just get here now!” I heard her intake of breath, but at least she stopped arguing with me.
“All right. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Leave NOW, Fanny.”
“I’m taking off my apron. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I closed my phone and looked back at my guests.
“She’s on her way. What’s this all about?”
The one in the middle spoke this time. “We must wait until she arrives to tell you.” Bugger all. Now I had to play the polite host.
“May I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Certainement.” Bloody bastard’s accent was as good as Fanny’s.
I heard the clatter of her bicycle and looked out the window to see her hop off and dart into the chateau. Less than a minute later, she strode into the office and stopped short when she saw our guests. She looked at Thorne and Espan, briefly at O’Reilly, and then back at me. Her eyes were getting larger by the second.
“Max? What ….”
“Fanny, allow me to present our guests. Terry Thorne, Max Espan, and Dino O’Reilly. They flew in fromAmerica
DINO
If I’d ever seen fear on my partners’ faces, I was seeing it now. The suddenness with which Skinner had come to recognize us – and clearly he did, at least insofar as realizing he was looking at two men who so closely resembled him – hadn’t been anticipated. Alex Ross hadn’t snapped to who we were, but Skinner was smarter than the average bear. That put the three of us on high alert in terms of what we’d all feared the night Ellie found out who we were …we were afraid of losing the women we loved. Terry looked at Skinner and Fanny.
“Mr. Skinner, if you and Ms. Chenal would take a seat on the sofa and hold onto each other, my colleagues and I need to get three people on the phone for this conversation. If you’ll be patient whilst we do that, we’ll get to the crux of the matter as quickly as possible.”
“All right.” He led Fanny to the sofa and sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. Max looked at him and shook his head.
“Mr. Skinner, you need to hold her tightly, and Ms. Chenal, you must do the same. Hold each other as though your lives depended upon it.” They did as he asked. We moved to different areas of the room and away from the couple on the couch and each other for whatever privacy we might glean for some intimate moments, whipped out our cell phones, and hit the speed dial buttons. Moments later we had Ellie, Dee, and Reags on the lines.
Terry looked back at Skinner, and we returned to our seats for the conversation.
“Mr. Skinner, there’s something you and Ms. Chenal need to know. It’s going to sound preposterous, but it’s a reality. It’s our reality, and now it’s yours as well.” Skinner sat up a little straighter and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“Mr. Skinner, how recently have you been to the cinema?”
“Why is that important?”
“Do you often go to the cinema? Once a month? Once a year …?”
“I don’t recall the last time I saw a film. Fanny and I’ve never been to the cinema together. Why?”
“Have either of you seen the films Proof of Life or Gladiator?” Skinner shook his head, but Fanny spoke up.
“I have seen Gladiator …every woman has seen Gladiator …Sacre Bleu!”
Of course she saw Gladiator. Terry’s and my box office wasn’t big enough. Skinner turned to look at her as her face went white as a sheet. Her mouth was open, and she was staring at Max. If we were lucky, she wouldn’t pass out on us. The three of us looked at each other, and our phones went back to our ears.
Fanny had obviously recognized Max, so he was the logical choice to start the explanation.
“Ms. Chenal, we do not know and certainly do not understand how we came to be in this time and space; all we know is that it has happened. Now, with the advent of your and Mr. Skinner’s film, you have joined our numbers.” Skinner looked confused for the first time since we’d walked in the door.
“What film? What in hell are you talking about?”
Terry stepped in again. “Mr. Skinner, you and Ms. Chenal have come from a film called A Good Year. Mr. Skinner, all of your summers with your Uncle Henry did exist; your unfortunate investigation did happen; and Ms. Chenal’s misalliance with the soccer player is a fact. Christi Roberts, Francis and Ludivine Duflot, everyone you both interacted with in the film – including Monsieur Duflot’s dog, Tati – live and breathe in this time and space.
“Dino and I are from a film entitled Proof of Life. Max is from the film entitled Gladiator …Ms. Chenal recognizes him as General Maximus Decimus Meridius, the Roman general depicted as living two-thousand years ago. It makes for a very odd transition, but as far as we know, every single character ever portrayed by the actor Russell Crowe in a film, now exists in this spot in the space-time continuum.”
Skinner’s eyes blinked rapidly as he looked first at Fanny, then at the three of us. Of course, he didn’t believe us.
“Bollocks!” Fanny pinched him, and he turned back to her. She may have professed her realization first, but her pinch gave her tangible proof her Max was flesh and blood.
“Ouch!”
“Max, at least listen to them.” She looked back at us and then jumped off the couch, heading for our Max.
“Show me your arm.” Max spoke into his cell, and I could hear Reags laughing from where I stood.
“Cara, I must put down my phone for a moment.” He shrugged out of his coat, tugged the heavy gold cufflink from his left sleeve and rolled it up. He couldn’t get the fabric up all the way, and only the bottom of the scar was visible. Fanny ran her fingers under the edge of the fabric, pushing it up a bit higher and looking as she rubbed the heavy ridges of scar tissue. She turned back to Skinner as Max pulled his sleeve down, refastened the cuff link, and picked up his phone.
She turned to Terry, and her left hand went to his right eyebrow and stroked the pale remnants of the scar there before she turned back to Skinner.
“Max …it’s true. They both have the scars they had in the films. No one would have an operation to produce a scar as a trick.”
MAX SKINNER
Fanny’s never lied to me. Why would she start now, particularly in these circumstances?
“All right. Let’s say you’re who you purport to be. What’s with the telephones?” The big chap – the general – smiled.
“Mr. Skinner, did you happen to take a course in physics whilst you were at university?”
“Yes. What’s that got to do with it?”
“Are you familiar with thread or chaos theories?”
“Both, of course …good Lord! Thread theory …yes! That would account for it!”
Their phones went immediately back to their ears, each man asking ‘Are you there’ to the women on the other ends of the connections. They seemed satisfied with the answers, but no one of them broke their connections. Max, Maximus …Espan, whatever-in-bloody-hell his name is, smiled at Fanny who was standing a few feet away, still in somewhat of a state of shock. He looked back at his colleagues and gave a Gallic shrug as good as any I’ve ever seen.
“Gentlemen, we – all of us – are still in this plane. We have nothing further to fear from future disclosure. Mr. Skinner and Ms. Chenal were not physically connected at the moment he realised his origins; the women we love are still here. We are safe.” Dino laughed as he spoke.
“Gentlemen, we’re done!” There was a whoop from Terry’s phone, a laugh from the phone in Max’s hands, and a very clear ‘fucking A!’ from Dino’s.
DINO
Well, we got that settled - at least for the present, though we all knew Skinner and Fanny would have a shitload of questions as time passed – so it was time for me to do my thing.
“Max …Skinner. Shit, this is gonna be confusing with two Max’s in the same group. I’m gonna call you Skinner, if that’s okay.” He nodded.
“We really did make this trip to discuss financial matters. The reason the rest of it came up was because you clocked us when we walked in the door. You didn’t know who we were, but seeing two men who look so much like you made it necessary to welcome you to the club. So, let’s get down to brass tacks. We didn’t come prepared for the first part of this meeting, but I have come prepared with a contract for this discussion.”
It was now pretty obvious why we wanted Skinner to handle our account. I recapped the firm’s financial statement for him before making the pitch for him to take us on as a client.
“You don’t have to buy a seat to trade for us unless you want to; we’re quite satisfied with our current brokerage house. We’ll continue with them and with our same banks. What we need from you is recommended investments, and we’ll authorize you to work with our current traders up to a mil. Beyond that amount, you’ll need to contact me. The benefit for you is that you get to keep your fingers in the pie but without the pressure you had inLondon
“Very likely.”
“We’ll leave the contract here for you to go over with your lawyers. If you agree, sign it and express mail it back to us.”
“Why don’t you stay the night in town and come back tomorrow? I’m confident I can interpret the intent of your contract without legal counsel. It’s not the first such contract I’ve read.” If he could produce for us, I could live with his smug look.
FANNY CHENAL
“If I am your fiancée, Maximilian, I would think you would have considered my thoughts in this matter.” He turned to look at me in surprise.
“I haven’t committed to anything yet.”
“No, but you are going to. I am beginning to think that my first thoughts were correct. Your life does not fit this place.”
“Fanny, the reason I asked them to come back tomorrow is so that you and I could discuss this. I wouldn’t make a final decision of this magnitude without consulting you. I’ve done that before, and it buggered up. I’ve learnt my lessons. Give me time to go over the contract, and then we’ll discuss it further.”
I had been dismissed.
“Have it your way. I’m going back to the bistro.”
It was a very busy evening, and I closed later than usual. When I locked the door and turned, Max was sitting at the far table, a bottle of Coin Perdue open and two glasses. That alone told me he was most serious, as we did not often drink La Siroque’s prime vintage. The contract was in front of his face. As I approached, he lowered the papers and put them on the table, looked over his reading glasses and into my eyes. I sat across from him, and he poured the wine.
“Max, I do not want you to do this thing.”
“I’m aware of that. Let me tell you why it would be a good thing for us.”
“I’m listening.” He was going to have to do a great deal of convincing.
“Fanny, I miss the rush. I miss the thrill of watching the prices climb and fall and knowing when to buy and sell. I miss making the money, even though it certainly wasn’t all mine. If I – if we – do this, it will keep me from wanting to get back into the thick of it. It will give me the occasional ride without jeopardising what we have here. I can do it all from my computer in the study upstairs. It will make my life fit this place.”
I said nothing, thinking on it.
“Fanny, I’ll make you a deal. Let’s do this for a year. If it’s a good year, I’ll continue. Can we agree to do that?” I sighed. A year. I could live with anything for a year.
“I will try.”
TERRY
We drove up to the chateau at ten the next morning. Skinner had called late the evening before and invited us for breakfast. Fanny was making fresh brioche.
They were sitting at the table on the terrace when we arrived. There was a third person at the table; he stayed where he was as Fanny and Max came to meet us. Skinner held out his hand, and we shook all round as we went to the table. The man stood, and we were introduced.
“Monsieur Jacques Souris, our notaire. Monsieur Souris, allow me to present our guests.” We sorted that and sat as Fanny offered coffee.
“You and Ms. Chenal have had time to review the contract?” Skinner nodded, and Ms. Chenal surprised me.
“Please, as it appears you and Max are to be business partners, call me Fanny.” He’d got her to agree, but she didn’t seem particularly pleased with it. Hopefully, she’d get over that. I smiled as I spoke.
“Ms. Chenal – Fanny – if you have any questions at all, please feel free to ask them. We want both of you to be comfortable with this arrangement. The three of us are all in committed relationships – Max is married – and none of us would enter into an arrangement the ladies in our lives found objectionable. If you have questions regarding any part of our visit, please feel free to address them at any time you choose. We would also be happy to give you the phone numbers of our ladies – Reagan Espan, Ellen Hughes, and Diana Walker – so you may talk with them. Ellie has only recently handled a situation such as you now face, and her memory of her feelings in the matter are fresher than might be Reagan’s or Diana’s.”
She finally smiled. She got precisely what I was saying, without my having to be indiscreet with the notaire present.
“Now, what questions do you have?”
Skinner answered that one. “None that come to mind. We went over the contract fully last night, and it’s standard. No surprises. We have the notaire present simply to witness our signatures and make it official. You may take the contract with you back toDallas
“You did take note of this section …that there will be no managed windfalls?” Skinner smiled.
“I agree. I’m not that sort of trader now.”
Fifteen minutes later it was a done deal. The notaire left, and Skinner and Fanny went inside, returning with a bottle of wine and the promised brioche and fruit. As Skinner poured, Fanny smiled again.
“Enjoy the wine, Gentlemen. The current going price is $8,000 a bottle.” I thought Dino was going to choke in mid-swallow.
We left La Siroque three hours later. When we shook hands on leaving, Dino commented that in the South, a man’s handshake was his bond. Skinner smiled as he spoke.
“An Englishman’s word is his bond.”
NOTES
Conference Room, Thorne, Espan, and O’Reilly
1100 hours
TERRY
“I’d no idea it had been such a good year.”
“Nor had I, though we are certainly due it.”
“Best we’ve had since we opened the doors. It looked good to me when I closed out the books and sent them off to the accountants, and they reported back that I’d underplayed it. That’s when I called in the forensic accountants …I wanted to be very fucking sure everything was straight across the board. We’re clean as a whistle and have room to play.”
Max sat back in his chair, elbows on the arm rests, and tented his fingers as he looked from me to Dino.
“Am I to understand that and for the year just closed, we have more than two-point-five million in corporate discretionary funds after taxes at our disposal?” Dino nodded.
“That’s about the size of it, Buddy. I’ve been willing to do our investing until now, but this is too rich for my blood. We need a real, honest-to-God investment broker, someone who knows the law – domestic and international – on investments and who has balls big enough to take this and make the firm self-sufficient. In addition to our already significant slush fund, this windfall would let us be our own bankers. Either of you got any ideas? I don’t think Scott-Trades is gonna do it for us.” Max smiled.
“I believe I know someone …let me make a call.”
MAXIMUS
“La Siroque.”
“Mr. Skinner. My name is Max Espan. A mutual acquaintance – Gemma Pradeep – gave me your name. She is of the opinion you may be able to assist my firm with our investments.”
“Gemma! Lovely girl; very sharp. She’s a bit more than an acquaintance, actually; she was my assistant in
“So I understand.”
“Bright girl, Gemma. The problem is that I’m no longer in investments, Mr. Espan. I’ve gone native as it were, become a vintner.”
“I understand that, Mr. Skinner; however, please hear me out. At present we have a three-way partnership, though we likely will be bringing in a fourth individual in the near future. We serve a specialised niche in the risk management arena. We have had an unusually lucrative year and find ourselves with approximately two-and-a-half million in discretionary funds at our disposal.”
If I had expected the amount to impress Max Skinner, I was to be disappointed. Max Skinner had made twice that amount in fifteen minutes on more than one occasion. Fortunately, such was not my expectation, and I knew I must convince him to see me …to see us, as we would all make the journey.
“Mr. Espan, ….”
“Mr. Skinner, permit me to visit you and make my case. I truly believe you will be intrigued with what I propose. I can be there next week, if that is acceptable.” There was a long silence before he spoke again.
“Very well. Do you know
“I know the area, and I speak French quite fluently. Obtaining directions at the local level will not pose a problem. What day would be convenient for you?”
“Shall we say Tuesday or perhaps Wednesday?”
“I will fly in from
“I shall see you on Wednesday.” I disconnected before Max Skinner could ask additional questions. Terry, Dino, and I were on American Airlines flight 48, departing
We would take Eurail from the airport to
In addition to our business proposition, we debated the advisability of simply telling Skinner who he was and who we were; we came to no conclusion. We would – as Dino put it – play it by ear. We did not care for the fact that Diana, Cassandra, and Ellen would not be with us on this occasion of perhaps bringing a new incarnation into our circle, but it could not be helped. We would pray that, if we had to discuss his origins, this would not be the circumstance on which the dreaded butterfly would take wing.
We drove into the car park at the chateau at a quarter to eleven and knocked on the door. A woman – Madame Duflot – answered the door and showed us to Skinner’s office. I heard her tell him that I was not alone. Skinner stood and started round his desk as we entered, then stopped suddenly. The hand that had been extended moved back to his body as he crossed his arms over his chest and leant against his desk, his eyes moving rapidly from one to the next of us. His voice was firm when he spoke.
“Well, then. It appears we have more to discuss than the opening of an investments account. Gentlemen, please, take your seats.”
MAX SKINNER
I didn’t know what was going on, but I was looking at three very dangerous men even though they were dressed in business attire, two of whom looked like me. The one in the middle reminded me of the father of a girl I’d dated briefly whilst at uni; her old man was a general. The man to his right looked at the others before speaking; he was Australian. His words sent a chill down my spine.
“Is Fanny Chenal here? Is she on the premises?”
I shook my head. “She isn’t available. Why?”
“Get her here …now. Mr. Skinner, we have no negative intentions toward either you or Ms. Chenal. In point of fact, our concern is ensuring that the two of you remain together and safe.” His tone didn’t brook disagreement. The concern in his voice and the looks on all three faces suggested that Fanny and I were in some sort of danger; I have sufficient, disgruntled, influential investors that retaliation was a possibility. It seemed they were here to protect us rather than presenting that danger. Uncharacteristically for me, I picked up my phone and waited for her voice.
“Max! Pourquoi appelez-vous tellement tôt?
“You need ….”
“En français, Max.”
“Not NOW, Fanny. You need to come home immediately. Don’t ask questions, just get here now!” I heard her intake of breath, but at least she stopped arguing with me.
“All right. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Leave NOW, Fanny.”
“I’m taking off my apron. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I closed my phone and looked back at my guests.
“She’s on her way. What’s this all about?”
The one in the middle spoke this time. “We must wait until she arrives to tell you.” Bugger all. Now I had to play the polite host.
“May I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Certainement.” Bloody bastard’s accent was as good as Fanny’s.
*
I heard the clatter of her bicycle and looked out the window to see her hop off and dart into the chateau. Less than a minute later, she strode into the office and stopped short when she saw our guests. She looked at Thorne and Espan, briefly at O’Reilly, and then back at me. Her eyes were getting larger by the second.
“Max? What ….”
“Fanny, allow me to present our guests. Terry Thorne, Max Espan, and Dino O’Reilly. They flew in from
DINO
If I’d ever seen fear on my partners’ faces, I was seeing it now. The suddenness with which Skinner had come to recognize us – and clearly he did, at least insofar as realizing he was looking at two men who so closely resembled him – hadn’t been anticipated. Alex Ross hadn’t snapped to who we were, but Skinner was smarter than the average bear. That put the three of us on high alert in terms of what we’d all feared the night Ellie found out who we were …we were afraid of losing the women we loved. Terry looked at Skinner and Fanny.
“Mr. Skinner, if you and Ms. Chenal would take a seat on the sofa and hold onto each other, my colleagues and I need to get three people on the phone for this conversation. If you’ll be patient whilst we do that, we’ll get to the crux of the matter as quickly as possible.”
“All right.” He led Fanny to the sofa and sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. Max looked at him and shook his head.
“Mr. Skinner, you need to hold her tightly, and Ms. Chenal, you must do the same. Hold each other as though your lives depended upon it.” They did as he asked. We moved to different areas of the room and away from the couple on the couch and each other for whatever privacy we might glean for some intimate moments, whipped out our cell phones, and hit the speed dial buttons. Moments later we had Ellie, Dee, and Reags on the lines.
“Cara,
we are with Mr. Skinner and Ms. Chenal.
Where are you?”
“Diana,
we’re at La Siroque.
I need you to keep the line open.
Skinner has a clue.”
“Ellie,
Honey?
Max, Terry, and I are with Skinner and his lady. Can you stay on the
line?”
“In
the
kitchen. What do
you want me to do?”
“Stay on the line.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“Stay on the line.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“Like
I’d go anywhere now?”
“Jesus,
Dino ….”
“Cara,
whatever may happen, always remember how I have loved you.”
“Lady, I
love you.
Never forget that.”
“Ellie,
I love you. Hold on
to that.”
Terry looked back at Skinner, and we returned to our seats for the conversation.
“Mr. Skinner, there’s something you and Ms. Chenal need to know. It’s going to sound preposterous, but it’s a reality. It’s our reality, and now it’s yours as well.” Skinner sat up a little straighter and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“Mr. Skinner, how recently have you been to the cinema?”
“Why is that important?”
“Do you often go to the cinema? Once a month? Once a year …?”
“I don’t recall the last time I saw a film. Fanny and I’ve never been to the cinema together. Why?”
“Have either of you seen the films Proof of Life or Gladiator?” Skinner shook his head, but Fanny spoke up.
“I have seen Gladiator …every woman has seen Gladiator …Sacre Bleu!”
Of course she saw Gladiator. Terry’s and my box office wasn’t big enough. Skinner turned to look at her as her face went white as a sheet. Her mouth was open, and she was staring at Max. If we were lucky, she wouldn’t pass out on us. The three of us looked at each other, and our phones went back to our ears.
“Cara,
are you still there?”
“Diana?”
“Ellie,
you there?”
“I’m
still here, Max.”
“I’m
here, Boomer.”
“And still
breathing.”
Fanny had obviously recognized Max, so he was the logical choice to start the explanation.
“Ms. Chenal, we do not know and certainly do not understand how we came to be in this time and space; all we know is that it has happened. Now, with the advent of your and Mr. Skinner’s film, you have joined our numbers.” Skinner looked confused for the first time since we’d walked in the door.
“What film? What in hell are you talking about?”
Terry stepped in again. “Mr. Skinner, you and Ms. Chenal have come from a film called A Good Year. Mr. Skinner, all of your summers with your Uncle Henry did exist; your unfortunate investigation did happen; and Ms. Chenal’s misalliance with the soccer player is a fact. Christi Roberts, Francis and Ludivine Duflot, everyone you both interacted with in the film – including Monsieur Duflot’s dog, Tati – live and breathe in this time and space.
“Dino and I are from a film entitled Proof of Life. Max is from the film entitled Gladiator …Ms. Chenal recognizes him as General Maximus Decimus Meridius, the Roman general depicted as living two-thousand years ago. It makes for a very odd transition, but as far as we know, every single character ever portrayed by the actor Russell Crowe in a film, now exists in this spot in the space-time continuum.”
Skinner’s eyes blinked rapidly as he looked first at Fanny, then at the three of us. Of course, he didn’t believe us.
“Bollocks!” Fanny pinched him, and he turned back to her. She may have professed her realization first, but her pinch gave her tangible proof her Max was flesh and blood.
“Ouch!”
“Max, at least listen to them.” She looked back at us and then jumped off the couch, heading for our Max.
“Show me your arm.” Max spoke into his cell, and I could hear Reags laughing from where I stood.
“Cara, I must put down my phone for a moment.” He shrugged out of his coat, tugged the heavy gold cufflink from his left sleeve and rolled it up. He couldn’t get the fabric up all the way, and only the bottom of the scar was visible. Fanny ran her fingers under the edge of the fabric, pushing it up a bit higher and looking as she rubbed the heavy ridges of scar tissue. She turned back to Skinner as Max pulled his sleeve down, refastened the cuff link, and picked up his phone.
She turned to Terry, and her left hand went to his right eyebrow and stroked the pale remnants of the scar there before she turned back to Skinner.
“Max …it’s true. They both have the scars they had in the films. No one would have an operation to produce a scar as a trick.”
MAX SKINNER
Fanny’s never lied to me. Why would she start now, particularly in these circumstances?
“All right. Let’s say you’re who you purport to be. What’s with the telephones?” The big chap – the general – smiled.
“Mr. Skinner, did you happen to take a course in physics whilst you were at university?”
“Yes. What’s that got to do with it?”
“Are you familiar with thread or chaos theories?”
“Both, of course …good Lord! Thread theory …yes! That would account for it!”
Their phones went immediately back to their ears, each man asking ‘Are you there’ to the women on the other ends of the connections. They seemed satisfied with the answers, but no one of them broke their connections. Max, Maximus …Espan, whatever-in-bloody-hell his name is, smiled at Fanny who was standing a few feet away, still in somewhat of a state of shock. He looked back at his colleagues and gave a Gallic shrug as good as any I’ve ever seen.
“Gentlemen, we – all of us – are still in this plane. We have nothing further to fear from future disclosure. Mr. Skinner and Ms. Chenal were not physically connected at the moment he realised his origins; the women we love are still here. We are safe.” Dino laughed as he spoke.
“Gentlemen, we’re done!” There was a whoop from Terry’s phone, a laugh from the phone in Max’s hands, and a very clear ‘fucking A!’ from Dino’s.
DINO
Well, we got that settled - at least for the present, though we all knew Skinner and Fanny would have a shitload of questions as time passed – so it was time for me to do my thing.
“Max …Skinner. Shit, this is gonna be confusing with two Max’s in the same group. I’m gonna call you Skinner, if that’s okay.” He nodded.
“We really did make this trip to discuss financial matters. The reason the rest of it came up was because you clocked us when we walked in the door. You didn’t know who we were, but seeing two men who look so much like you made it necessary to welcome you to the club. So, let’s get down to brass tacks. We didn’t come prepared for the first part of this meeting, but I have come prepared with a contract for this discussion.”
It was now pretty obvious why we wanted Skinner to handle our account. I recapped the firm’s financial statement for him before making the pitch for him to take us on as a client.
“You don’t have to buy a seat to trade for us unless you want to; we’re quite satisfied with our current brokerage house. We’ll continue with them and with our same banks. What we need from you is recommended investments, and we’ll authorize you to work with our current traders up to a mil. Beyond that amount, you’ll need to contact me. The benefit for you is that you get to keep your fingers in the pie but without the pressure you had in
“Very likely.”
“We’ll leave the contract here for you to go over with your lawyers. If you agree, sign it and express mail it back to us.”
“Why don’t you stay the night in town and come back tomorrow? I’m confident I can interpret the intent of your contract without legal counsel. It’s not the first such contract I’ve read.” If he could produce for us, I could live with his smug look.
FANNY CHENAL
“If I am your fiancée, Maximilian, I would think you would have considered my thoughts in this matter.” He turned to look at me in surprise.
“I haven’t committed to anything yet.”
“No, but you are going to. I am beginning to think that my first thoughts were correct. Your life does not fit this place.”
“Fanny, the reason I asked them to come back tomorrow is so that you and I could discuss this. I wouldn’t make a final decision of this magnitude without consulting you. I’ve done that before, and it buggered up. I’ve learnt my lessons. Give me time to go over the contract, and then we’ll discuss it further.”
I had been dismissed.
“Have it your way. I’m going back to the bistro.”
*
It was a very busy evening, and I closed later than usual. When I locked the door and turned, Max was sitting at the far table, a bottle of Coin Perdue open and two glasses. That alone told me he was most serious, as we did not often drink La Siroque’s prime vintage. The contract was in front of his face. As I approached, he lowered the papers and put them on the table, looked over his reading glasses and into my eyes. I sat across from him, and he poured the wine.
“Max, I do not want you to do this thing.”
“I’m aware of that. Let me tell you why it would be a good thing for us.”
“I’m listening.” He was going to have to do a great deal of convincing.
“Fanny, I miss the rush. I miss the thrill of watching the prices climb and fall and knowing when to buy and sell. I miss making the money, even though it certainly wasn’t all mine. If I – if we – do this, it will keep me from wanting to get back into the thick of it. It will give me the occasional ride without jeopardising what we have here. I can do it all from my computer in the study upstairs. It will make my life fit this place.”
I said nothing, thinking on it.
“Fanny, I’ll make you a deal. Let’s do this for a year. If it’s a good year, I’ll continue. Can we agree to do that?” I sighed. A year. I could live with anything for a year.
“I will try.”
TERRY
We drove up to the chateau at ten the next morning. Skinner had called late the evening before and invited us for breakfast. Fanny was making fresh brioche.
They were sitting at the table on the terrace when we arrived. There was a third person at the table; he stayed where he was as Fanny and Max came to meet us. Skinner held out his hand, and we shook all round as we went to the table. The man stood, and we were introduced.
“Monsieur Jacques Souris, our notaire. Monsieur Souris, allow me to present our guests.” We sorted that and sat as Fanny offered coffee.
“You and Ms. Chenal have had time to review the contract?” Skinner nodded, and Ms. Chenal surprised me.
“Please, as it appears you and Max are to be business partners, call me Fanny.” He’d got her to agree, but she didn’t seem particularly pleased with it. Hopefully, she’d get over that. I smiled as I spoke.
“Ms. Chenal – Fanny – if you have any questions at all, please feel free to ask them. We want both of you to be comfortable with this arrangement. The three of us are all in committed relationships – Max is married – and none of us would enter into an arrangement the ladies in our lives found objectionable. If you have questions regarding any part of our visit, please feel free to address them at any time you choose. We would also be happy to give you the phone numbers of our ladies – Reagan Espan, Ellen Hughes, and Diana Walker – so you may talk with them. Ellie has only recently handled a situation such as you now face, and her memory of her feelings in the matter are fresher than might be Reagan’s or Diana’s.”
She finally smiled. She got precisely what I was saying, without my having to be indiscreet with the notaire present.
“Now, what questions do you have?”
Skinner answered that one. “None that come to mind. We went over the contract fully last night, and it’s standard. No surprises. We have the notaire present simply to witness our signatures and make it official. You may take the contract with you back to
“You did take note of this section …that there will be no managed windfalls?” Skinner smiled.
“I agree. I’m not that sort of trader now.”
Fifteen minutes later it was a done deal. The notaire left, and Skinner and Fanny went inside, returning with a bottle of wine and the promised brioche and fruit. As Skinner poured, Fanny smiled again.
“Enjoy the wine, Gentlemen. The current going price is $8,000 a bottle.” I thought Dino was going to choke in mid-swallow.
*
We left La Siroque three hours later. When we shook hands on leaving, Dino commented that in the South, a man’s handshake was his bond. Skinner smiled as he spoke.
“An Englishman’s word is his bond.”
NOTES
| Pourquoi appelez-vous tellement tôt ? | Why are you calling so early ? |
| En francais | In French |
| Certainement | Certainly |
| Notaire | A notary |
