On The Carousel

JR Alexander

Description

ON THE CAROUSEL is the story of a young man's journey through the London of the 1980s - against the background of Thatcherism and Madonna and Cabbage Patch Dolls - as he enjoys the benefits of success, but then starts to re-assess his values and priorities. In the early hours of New Year's Day 1980, Adam Gough - a recent graduate, whose career was put on hold following a traumatic event the previous year - is walking home through the deserted City of London to his small bed-sit in Bow. He is suddenly confronted by three strange-looking women, one of whom addresses him with a prediction: "You will have riches. But you will also have a secret. A secret of death and fire". Shortly afterwards, he takes up a post as a Junior Analyst with a firm of economic consultants. Adam finds that the people with whom he is working are a mix of characters - the intelligent, the diligent, the vacuous, the bombastic, the spiteful, the useless. The Chief Economist - a media darling - is consistently and spectacularly wrong with his forecasts, but in continual demand for his views on the future economy. Another senior colleague - a continual fount of pretentious management jargon - is, to Adam's astonishment, no less successful when dealing with the company's major clients. Adam thrives in this environment, progressing through the company's hierarchy and up the property ladder. He is feted for his expertise in identifying the key business trends at home and overseas.However, as the 1980s unfold, Adam derives a growing awareness of the variable fates of those with whom he comes into contact - whether on the walk from Holborn to Waterloo Station or on a trekking holiday in the Himalayas. This causes him to reflect on the values - love, family, respect - that he holds most dearly.The decade produces winners and losers, the cast list of which extends to those with whom Adam is (or has been) most closely involved. The narrative concludes in a dramatic final climax, as the precise meaning of the woman's prediction is revealed.

Informations

• Publié par: High Ridge Publishing
• Date de parution: 20 janvier 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781839781438
• Langue: English

Extrait

JR ALEXANDER
ON THE CAROUSEL
Who wins - who loses? A novel of the 1980s
First published by High Ridge Publishing, 2020
JR ALEXANDER, 2020
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the Publisher.
eBook ISBN 9781839781438
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eBook Conversion by eBookPartnership.com
CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Part 1. Opportunities
Beginning on Monday 31st December 1979
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Part 2. Reflections
Beginning on Monday 8 th August 1983
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Part 3. Resolutions
Beginning on Saturday 4 th April 1987
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Other fiction from JR Alexander: Shouting At The Window
Forthcoming fiction from JR Alexander: Long Forgotten Events
JR Alexander was born in Leeds, Yorkshire, UK. He currently lives in Scotland.
Further details about JR Alexander s works of fiction can be found at www.jralexanderauthor.com . He can be contacted at [e-mail] .
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Once again, I am grateful to Diana and Matt Horner of the eBookPartnership for their advice and expertise in bringing this e-book to publication.
My thanks, also, to Katherine Rigg for the wonderful cover design.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The book is dedicated to Rosie. Our conversations always lead to laughter.
PART ONE
Opportunities
CHAPTER ONE
New Year s Eve, 1979
You realise, of course, that tonight is not really the end of the decade .
The voice came from behind Adam Gough and to his right. He half-turned and looked into the corner of the room. Slumped in a sofa, barely visible through the smoky haze, could be discerned a tall young man carefully tapping the ash from his cigarette into an empty beer can. The man s hair was long and curly and parted neatly in the middle. He wore a bright red shirt and a pair of fragile spectacles with round thin frames. As he spoke, he slumped lower in the sofa, his back lazily arched, the deep collar of his shirt riding up on both sides on his neck.
It s not really the end of the decade. There wasn t a year zero, you see, and therefore the end of the first decade was at the end of the year ten. By the same token, the end of this decade is, well, this time next year. Still, who cares, if we are all enjoying ourselves?
The man was speaking to no-one in particular. While he was, no doubt, aware of the other partygoers around him, he appeared content in his own little world, smoking his cigarette and cradling his empty beer can, which he then rested on the arm of the sofa. Adam Gough turned his back on the man and, leaning over the table, selected another bottle of light ale from the array of drink available in front of him.
A firm hand grabbed his left shoulder, pressing down hard.
Adam. Great to see you. Are you OK now?
Norman Stockton s booming voice sounded out, clearly audible above the background accompaniment of music and chatter. The volume of his question caused one or two heads to turn, temporarily, on the other side of the room. Adam s response was quieter, but no less genuine in the warmth of its delivery.
Norman. I m fine. Really, I m fine. It s good to see you, too. Thanks for the invitation to the party .
My pleasure. I have these New Year s Eve shindigs here every year. What s the point of having a London pad if you don t use it? It s a nice bolt-hole from my rooms in college .
Stockton was a short man with a thin moustache. Someone who did not know him might speculate from his appearance and demeanour - late forties, bright-eyed, sprightly, inquisitive, busy - that he was some sort of academic. It would be an accurate assessment, though he was no ordinary academic. He was a Professor of Mathematical Economics at the University of Cambridge and a world authority on the application of game theory to the resolution of industrial disputes. He extended his enthusiastic welcome to his visitor.
It s really good to see you. And I must congratulate you on your examination result. To get a First, under your circumstances, was a terrific performance. It s very rare for someone to take the Finals late - in the autumn, as you did, and not in the summer - and come out with a First Class degree. Very rare. Anyway, what are you going to do with yourself? Have you got a job?
Adam felt appreciative of his host s attention. But here, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, he was not inclined to reveal much about his immediate plans. The crowded living room of a 1930s semi-detached house generated a sense of unreal intimacy, with which Adam was not comfortable. He decided that he would use his natural reticence and keep his answer brief. Then, as he began to reply, Adam heard the background music increase in volume. The chorus of the record was boisterously amplified by the party guests:
All...... another...... brick...... wall .
Adam found himself speaking louder than he would have preferred. He enunciated the words carefully against the competition from the record player and its supporters.
Well, I had Christmas with the family up in Yorkshire, of course. But I m now staying with some friends in the East End. In Bow, actually. They ve got a spare room in a house just off the Roman Road. It s something of a culture shock after living in a Cambridge college for over three years, but I m going to stay there for a while until I get myself sorted out and decide what I am going to do......
Stockton interrupted.
Listen, what s the point of having the university connection, if you can t exploit it? A thought has just occurred to me .
Adam looked at Stockton, his mind already attending to the detail of the message he was being given. Has just occurred? Really? Has just occurred? Stockton continued to deliver his thoughts.
Why don t I put you in touch with another former student of mine - a man called Michael Connor. He graduated about ten years ago. I bumped into him again at the Varsity Match at Twickenham earlier this month. Actually - to be strictly accurate - it was after the game in the Orange Tree in Richmond. Anyway, he is now the senior partner in a small business consultancy. CDM Partners, I think they re called. You know the sort of thing - economic forecasting, advising companies, and so on. If you like, I ll give him a call. He d be worth having a chat with. In fact, I think there s one of his staff here tonight .
Stockton looked over his shoulder.
Talk of the devil. Hello, Jamie. How are you keeping?
Adam recognised the gangling youth in the thin-framed spectacles and the red shirt with the deep collar. He had risen from the sofa in search of another beer can.
Jamie, this is Adam Gough. He s just graduated from Cambridge. First in Economics. Adam, can I introduce Jamie Sanders. He works for CDM Partners. On the technical side. Anyway, I ll leave you to chat .
Stockton started to back away, having acknowledged an enticing wave from a young woman who had caught his attention on the far side of the room. Adam strained to hear his parting remark above the noise level.
I ll give Michael Connor a ring next week, if you want to talk to him.
Adam nodded vaguely.
Yes. Why not? Thanks, Norman
Adam and the other party guest stood together cradling their respective beers. At this stage of the evening, Adam was not enthusiastic about the prospect of striking up a conversation with a stranger about his place of work. He suspected that the other man probably felt the same. Adam s preference - his strong preference - would have been to latch on to a small group standing in one corner, among whom was a girl he thought he recognised from Stockton s lecture course. Jackie, he thought her name was, from Newnham. She was tall and slim with long straight blond hair. But the chance of introducing himself was disappearing and, Adam knew, it would soon be gone.
And then it was gone. As Adam looked across, his direct line of sight to the girl was suddenly blocked as three other students - or, like him, ex-students - joined the group. One of them was slightly older than the others, a bearded man with an open shirt and a silver chain around his neck. On his arrival, the girl stretched forward to place both her hands on the back of his head. As they embraced, Adam turned away and poured some more light ale into his plastic cup.
CDM. I ve seen one or two of your guys on the television, I think .
Jamie Sanders responded dutifully.
Yes, probably. Michael Connor is on occasionally. He s the boss. He spends half his time jetting around the world giving presentations and seminars or pitching for business. You ve probably also seen Henry Montague. He s our Chief Economist. Always on the box, talking about this and that. Sometimes, it s even on an issue he knows something about, though that s rare. Still, it s good publicity for us, I suppose .
Is that what your job is, economic forecasting?
No, I m more concerned with the computing side, such as it is. Number-crunching, really. Nothing too sophisticated. Typing out the punchcards. Loading them into the machine. Trying to sort things out when the error messages come back .
Jamie Sanders made a slight grimace, as if reconciling to himself the essential role played by this tedious par