Tales of the Unexpected: Twisted Tales Episodes I - V

By Jason Cosnett

A collection of five unexpected and twisted tales...A young woman seeks financial recompense in Services Rendered; an elderly couple want to provide their grandson with a birthday to remember in The Gift; in The Punter, a publican cannot believe his luck when an antiquities dealer stops by for a drink; a young boy befriends a police officer in Beware The Baker Boys; and Honey Trap Enterprises might just be the perfect business for a scorned wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Cosnett
• Release date: Feb 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463295014

Jason Cosnett

There's a guy in the place who's got a bittersweet faceAnd he goes by the name of Ebeneezer GoodeHis friends call him 'Ezeer and he is the main geezerAnd he'll vibe up the place like no other man couldHe's refined, sublime, he makes you feel fineThough very much maligned and misunderstood

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Tales of the Unexpected: Twisted Tales Episodes I - V

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 Jason Cosnett

Services Rendered

A little pleasure can come at a cost

Charles Hargreaves was renowned for having the very best of everything, his entitlements procured through tireless hours of toil and dedication to his work. At fifty-four, he was the most successful antiquities dealer in Essex, with eight outlets scattered around the county, and plans for a further two stores in the challenging market of London well-advanced. The portly, balding man was also a known drinker and gambler, but his frequent losses on the horses were well covered by the business of antiques; Charles was the undisputed expert at sourcing a rarity, purchasing it at the market bottom then re-selling it at the top. His business acumen and revered deal-closing abilities made him the envy of the antiques world- by other traders at least; customers were ignorant to just how much extra out of pocket they were when they left a Hargreaves store.

Though no-one but Charles was counting, his fortune included a twenty room mansion near Walton-on-the-Maze, two holiday villas (one in the south of France and another in a secluded Italian valley), and a collection of priceless watercolours by several distinguished artists. He also owned a substantial portfolio of land throughout Europe and the Americas which he held for no other reason than to sell when the market peaked. But Charles’ pièce de résistance was his new wife Anne, a twenty-two year old blonde whom he met just a week after the finalisation of his divorce.

Charles had suffered financially with the split from his first wife, despite the wedlock producing no children. He made a solemn promise to himself on the day the divorce papers were signed that he would never again be put in such a position. So during his brief courtship with Anne, he asked his lawyers to arrange a series of intricate prenuptial clauses that would leave her with practically nothing in the event their marriage dissolved or he might die before her (which given his age and overall physical condition, was quite a likely outcome).

But it did not end there. The convoluted legal wording also stipulated that there were to be restrictions on Anne’s finances whilst they remained married. She was prevented from accessing any of Charles’ bank accounts, under no circumstance was she expected to seek a paid vocation, and a fixed allowance of just two pounds and four shillings a week over and above household expenses (which naturally had to be itemised and accounted for) would be indexed once a year for inflation.

Anne had a relatively stable upbringing and came from good stock despite her father being an alcoholic and abandoning the family when she was a young child. This left quite a gap in the family photo album, not to mention the family finances, so in an effort to keep up appearances, Anne’s well-to-do mother sold the occasional piece of silverware to get by. She was also keen to ensure her daughter received the very best education on offer, but such scholastic services do not come cheaply (silverware notwithstanding), so it was left to participate in the world’s oldest profession to supplement the shortfall in fees.

But by no means did her mother need to walk the streets of London’s East End, for the regular clientele were distinguished gentlemen. Servicing such men from the upper echelons of society was a very financially rewarding experience indeed, and though Anne never quite knew the specifics of what activities went on behind her mother’s closed bedroom doors, she knew enough to work out that two hours of services equated to a week’s school fees. With plenty left in reserve for lunch money.

Anne developed her own reputation thereafter. Up until she became aware of her mother’s activities, Anne was rather prudish when it came to boys, but taking the old adage of what was good for the goose was good for the gander to heart, she decided to put her long blonde hair and sizeable frontal assets to good use. It started with trading alcoholic drinks for a ten minute session in the local woods (five was generally all that was required) before progressing to money, cigarettes, then more money but of greater denomination. And with plenty of local lads and favourable word of mouth (granted, not the ideal choice of language), Anne was never short on offers. And on very few she declined.

Despite all of this, Anne remained on the look-out for Mr Right, that one man who would sweep her off her feet and provide a fairytale life. And Anne thought she had found him after meeting Charles one night at The Fox and Hound; though he spoiled her with copious alcoholic drinks and she had reciprocated with the mandatory sex, he insisted on seeing her again which was so unlike all the other men she had (briefly) known.

Smitten with Charles’ affluent lifestyle, Anne was prepared to overlook the finer details of her suitor- namely his physical appearance- in return for life within the walls of Mayfair Manor, which came complete with a cook, gardener and chamber-maid. And she barely batted an eyelid when presented with a twelve page legal concoction a day after their engagement, Charles waving the prenuptial agreement off as nothing more than a ‘mere formality of undying love.’

Of course, it became quite clear just how deep that love extended in a financial sense when Anne received her first week’s allowance. And whilst the novelty of manor life with everything on beck and call had not dimmed in that first week, by the time their first year anniversary had arrived, Anne was wondering if she’d made the right choice after all. What point was there in marrying a rich man if she was allowed only to window shop?

Anne’s decision to finance a lifestyle her husband was unprepared to do was in the end an easy one. The only question was how to go about such a task. Terms within the prenuptial precluded Anne from working under any circumstance, and a divorce would leave her with nothing. There was no profit in killing Charles either, and besides, Anne hadn’t the foggiest idea about how to go about it without getting caught.

In the end a variation of her mother’s chosen career path was the best option. Leaving the manor for extended periods of time was out of the question; Charles was very dictatorial in knowing where she was and what she was doing at any given hour of the day. But there were always dinner guests over, and many of Charles’ friends and colleagues were as financially stable as he. The perfect source of money, as far as Anne was concerned. Some were even quite good looking.

An opportunity arose when Charles announced Edward Blakemore would be dining with them the following Friday evening. Edward was the Assistant Manager at the head shop in Thaxted, and though he wasn’t quite in the same financial league as Charles, Anne fancied him as rather the dishy sort. He was also single, which Anne hoped would make the undertaking all that much simpler. There was no authoritarian wife to bypass suspicions, no glamorous lady friend to compete against.

The week went slowly, but it gave Anne time to refine her plan. She knew exactly what to say to Edward almost