This is based on all the
various stories in the earlier parts of the series, what follows is an imagined
summary of ADJ’s life, with a lot of supposition filling in the gaps. Not to be
taken that seriously.
So here I am in this
ward. It is the smell more than anything. Stale cabbage, and bad drains. They
say we are fortunate to be here – looked after free of charge. Everything is
comparative I suppose.
It is the noise – some
of these people aren’t right. How did I get here? It could all have been so
different.
It started so well. I
came from a good family, we owned land, we were respectable. I worked in
stores, and handled the money. I was really good with money. I mean – OK – life
got expensive and I started to cut corners, but until then, it worked a
dream. And I was attractive to women.
You wouldn’t know it looking at me now, but oh yes, they used to go weak at the
knees.
First there was Cassie.
Quiet, domesticated. But boring though, so boring. We had those children. What
were their names? I wonder where they are now?
And that Charles
Russell. We started a magazine to tell the world about the coming end of
problems. Oh what it was to have faith. But that’s all gone now. I was an
editor. I founded my own magazine. It was a good magazine – but when I tried to
be a bit more realistic, then some of those people turned against me. We did
some good works though. We raised money for good causes. Some of it may have
got lost along the way – I can’t remember now – but we meant well. I think.
I’d dropped the Jones
by now – a common name, people much preferred the Delmont – in fact, several of
my ex-partners even kept it.
And then there was
Isabel. The papers called her a “raving beauty”. Hmm. All I can remember today
is the “raving.” But we had some fun. Did we have some fun. The parties, the
good times – but then the creditors caught up with me. But she was young, she
had ambitions. And I started to find her tiring, very tiring. I bet her second
husband found her tiring too. Over the years I’ve see her in the newspapers –
no, perhaps I was well rid of her.
And then there was
Bambina. What a name. What a woman. We had several good scams going. But then
somehow she scammed me. I must have been losing my touch. I see she turned up
at the Arbuckle trials – accused of bigamy. Did we ever get that divorce? I
can’t remember. But Bambie – yes, memories of Bambie – I am sure she bounced
back. Bambie always did.
And then Margaret.
Well, that was a mistake. We lived with her parents. I told them a tale. They
believed it. But it was domesticity again. And it was boring, so boring. And
all these younger women I took up with – they all made demands. I got to the
point where all I wanted to do was sleep.
It might have been the diabetes. So I did the decent thing – I really
did. Faking my death like that – it meant she could pass herself off as a widow
and claim the insurance. Yes, that was a good move. I wonder what happened to
her? And her parents? What were their names?
So then it was try and
try again. But now I seemed to have lost the touch. The Midas touch. Huh – the
Delmont touch. But there was always going to be something else – somewhere over
the rainbow. Do you know something? – that would make a good title for a song.
If I wasn’t feeling so ill, I could even try and write something like that. It
might make another fortune.
If I still had faith
and still believed in heaven – but not hell (that’s one thing Charles Russell
helped me with) – maybe I would be a bit worried now. But – I don’t know what I
believe. All those people, I wonder what happened to them. Do they ever wonder
what happened to me? I’m glad they don’t
know. But I’m tired. Maybe there is such a thing as reincarnation, and I can
try and do better next time. But do better? What’s that? Be more boring? Make
more money and this time keep it? I don’t know. I just feel tired, so tired…
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