A Fool's Game

By Paul Fellowes

Win £20 million with your friends, spend it and enjoy your life, right? Wrong.

You've got to worry about having access, about drugs, about attackers, racist parents, people stealing your money, or worse, your ideas. You've got to worry about people talking, word getting out, and spending too much, or too little. You've got everything and nothing. You've got to worry about you.

A story of luck, addiction, family, deceit and self loathing. Theo Wolfe, Stefania Jameson, Jennifer Adeyemi and Danny Marsh have just won £20 million, but just how much joy can it bring them?

Disclaimer: This story includes several mature themes throughout, and some very strong language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Fellowes
• Release date: Dec 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005109448

Paul Fellowes

20-something, English, bisexual, author and CRM Manager. I write fiction from experiences similar to my own or my peers, and like to fill my words with mature and dark themes, no less. Self-acceptance (or a lack of), sexuality struggles and mental health all feature heavily, just as a bit of a disclaimer.My first full-length novel, A Fool's Game, is available now!If you'd like to follow my socials, please do!Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pfellowesauthorFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/PFellowesAuthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/PFellowesAuthorCopyright notice:Copyright © 2020 by Paul FellowesAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book could not have happened without the patience and help of my friends, family and partner, so I wish to thank them all for their support and dedication. This includes, but is not limited to:

- Angelina & Raymond F

- Mark & Luke F

- Leighton O

- Elisa G

- Claire H

- Chantelle E

- Roxanne S

- Martin O

- Anna K

- Kim S

- Helen D

- Rachel G

- Luca W

- Gabriella & Joseph W

I would especially like to thank Richard Target. His phenomenal skills as a designer have brought my story to life. The cover artwork for this book could not have happened without his efforts and I am eternally grateful. If you would like to follow Richard, he has an Instagram account where his incredible designs are showcased, @rich_target_.

Finally, and fondly, I believe it is of the utmost importance to mention three charities that are both close to my heart, and wherein this book, their respective subject matters lie:

- Black Minds Matter

- Stonewall UK

- British Heart Foundation

Their ongoing work is vital to the wellbeing of thousands, if not millions of people around the world and it would be an injustice for their song to go unsung.

Please donate to these causes if you can.

A FOOL’S GAME

PAUL FELLOWES

DEDICATED TO YVONNE FELLOWES

Copyright © 2020 by Paul Fellowes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

1

Holy fucking shit… holy fu … are you … are you sure? A hair from Danny’s perfect quiff popped out. He was practically foaming at the mouth but attempted keeping his composure amongst the crowd of colleagues around him.

We certainly are, congratulations Mr Marsh, I just have a few questions to go through if that’s ok? I know this is a very crazy time.

Er … yes. He put his hand over the phone, Mate, come here, we’ve fucking won. Theo couldn’t really hear over his music but could see Danny was frantic. His large, black headphones were rarely removed from his head. He looked as though he might be able to run long-distance, but certainly didn’t have the physique of Danny.

Stefania overheard and shot up. Where’s Jen? She exclaimed, a muffled joy in her tone, just in case Danny was joking. Stefania was a true English rose. She could be beautiful but lacked the want to try. Her intelligence was her main credential and she hadn’t taken the time to be anyone other than herself.

Mr Marsh, would you like to go public with your win? I must explain first that there is considerable counselling offered to anyone who does, as well as financial advice. However, there is a lot of pressure alongside the publicity and you would need to be careful with who you could trust.

There’re four of us. I think we’ll just keep it under our hats for now. Thanks. He explained.

Jennifer unassumingly strolled back from her meeting; her head was in the clouds as usual. The sound of her boots clopped as she came closer and closer to the moment that would change her life. A naturally beautiful girl that most would envy, her jet-black weave reached well beyond her posterior and would shimmer when near sunlight. She was slim, toned, effortless and unreservedly aware of herself. Her father was Nigerian, but her mother English; her unblemished skin lit up any room.

Her eyes squinted, Why are we all around Danny’s desk? … The moment it escaped her mouth, she clocked on. Uniformly, they looked at her and smiled. She became immediately very aware of her surroundings. A million questions sprang to mind.

Danny! Danny! She tried to keep to a whisper, but a small shriek came out from each word. Theo grabbed her arm with enough firmness to still her, his glare saying to keep quiet and patient. He had a little more in the way of brute strength than one would imagine. Jennifer’s pristine left brow rose as she snuck a look at his arm. She was not amused.

Placing the phone down, Danny leant back from his desk and breathed heavily, like he had just run a marathon. Desperately trying to escape his surroundings, the intake was vast, and the exhale palpable. From someone of a broad frame and strong stature, this looked unsettling and he knew to keep it in for as long as possible … or to become scarce.

Right he said, should we, er … grab some lunch, lads? Danny pleaded. They meandered out of the office doors to the lift. It was 11:37am. A murmuring began to the sound of their footsteps. They were all aware of the office’s gossip culture; that people would start to wonder what was going on, but this was far too big not to get out for. For all anyone knew, they could be sorting Dmitri’s birthday gift. They inaudibly agreed the desperate need to talk privately.

-

Lunch is on me boys and girls. We’ve just done the unthinkable.

Oh fuck off Danny, what’ve we done? … What’s next?, Stefania’s eyes rolled from left to right as the smirk pushed past her normally-knifelike features. She tumbled over her words; they couldn’t come out fast enough.

We’ve won £20 million, squaddies. 20 fucking million pounds, he laughed What’re you gonna do with your cut, T-bone?

T-bone, or Theo as everyone else would know him, stood with his mouth ajar, lost for thoughts, let alone words. Not that this was much different from any other conversation with him. Jen and Stef were shrieking around Danny like schoolgirls, losing control of their inhibitions and failing to remember their whereabouts.

You’re lying, one shouted. Oh my God, the other screamed, gaining the attention of London Bridge’s insurmountable crowds. Danny’s posture turned to one of leadership as he could see things were becoming quite significantly more frenetic than he would want. They stood to attention.

Right, right, right … let’s all take a second … we need to grab something to eat and come up with a plan. How about there? Pointing towards the stunning floral archway of The Ivy perched on the corner, the depth of the green and gold branding withstood the breadth of the foliage, making for a wonderful clash of colour. It felt like a fitting setting to be discussing their riches. After all, these were the sorts of places they would be frequenting from here on out, if not places even more lavish.

They wandered over, stuck somewhere between unstoppable giggling and almost-theatrical cautiousness – there was a sense that someone around them knew something, but of course their suspicions were nonsensical. Their intention of acting normally made them all the more conspicuous, all the way to the destination a few hundred yards away from their place of work.

The doorman was quite portly, with a rather unflattering suit. Like someone who had recently put on weight and was awaiting payday for a new one, the buttons on the jacket couldn’t have done up, but the ones on the waistcoat were barely keeping him in either. His hat, however, sat in perfect condition and his manner was exactly what you’d hope for when entering somewhere plush. He would be the type of man to remember every name of every guest that had ever been there, making sure that the next time they would step in, their drink would be ready to sip.

The waiter, a far slimmer and rather flamboyant young man, showed them to their table and flirted upon the order of champagne so early, it was almost like he was attempting to bag himself the position of house husband. Sat with a sense of egomania, Danny, Theo, Jennifer and Stefania began working out the details.

How much would each person get exactly?

Who would they tell?

When would they tell them?

When would they get it?

What would they each do with their share?

At every question, slightly differing answers on how to do things correctly would emerge. It would, of course, be split evenly (although Danny chanced his arm at the possibility of getting more due to the winning ticket being his). It seemed hilarious to them now, to think of the time they had spent in that office, curating marketing pieces as cogs in a wheel, dreaming of what they would spend their millions on when they inevitably won. They never truly believed the day would come.

Danny had never worried about money. In fact, he was someone you could call either self-assured or arrogant. There was no in-between, you either loved him or hated him. Marmite. Of rugby-player build, his looks were of someone who’d spent a lot of time at the gym and a lot of time pruning themselves. Women threw themselves at him on nights out, but he had hung up his boots for Scarlett, his beau, in the last year. It came as no surprise that the first thing he would do was chuck bottles of champagne and lunch at The Ivy on his credit card despite the money not being present yet.

Stefania was a little coyer, though very sharp-minded and stubborn. Never feeling as though she truly belonged, she was a little more sheepish when talking about how she might spend her share. Nonetheless, one could tell that this was her chance of escape. Of change. Of freedom. She may even get her eyebrows threaded to soften her face.

Theo. The quiet one, with good intentions. He played out like Kelly Rowland’s 2002 hit, Stole, in that respect. He could bask in song for hours on end but attach him to people for that amount of time and he would go in on himself. He wouldn’t be one to share it, per se, but he was thoughtful and kind, and would like to put his money towards a good time.

Jennifer was outgoing, beautiful, interesting, and completely lost within herself. One to push the boundaries of fashion, you’d be surprised to see her working in the marketing department of a medium-sized menswear brand. Her aspirations were vast though. She had been constantly branded one to watch amongst her peers. Some millions in the bank meant it was anyone’s guess how she would use it. It was likely she didn’t even know.

So, the full sum was twenty million, eighty-five thousand and sixty-four pounds. Someone grab a calculator please? Danny barked.

Theo interjected, after tapping away on his phone So, we’re each getting five million, twenty thousand, two hundred and sixty-six pounds. Five-point-nought-two million. Jesus.

So … I’m gonna tell my parents, but that’s about it. Is everyone happy to just do the same or? Stefania’s typically sensible questions reared their head.

Yeah, fair, let’s lay down some ground rules I suppose…

-

Seeping back into their desks with the prospect of an extra £5.02 million in their pockets meant that they acted strangely for the remainder of the day, understandably. The rumour-mill was rife, but people would never go as far as to suggest a lottery win. Luckily the intrigue faded as quickly as it started, and deadlines soon became the sole focus again. It felt wonderfully draining to work. Like the meaning of working so hard had been lost on the group, the façade needed playing out, though.

During their break they worked out their plans to leave the company, how they’d do it without raising too much suspicion and the rules around whom they could tell and what they would do. It was simple really. They would each leave within the next few months, doing their full notice periods, explaining that they were leaving for new jobs or for personal reasons and generally keeping things quiet. They would only tell their parents, siblings and spouses for the time being, and not spend frivolously so as not to waste it or arouse suspicion.

Then, once October 11th rolled around, the money was theirs and they were free to spend it however they pleased and tell whoever they wished. And finally, seeing as they had been friends for several years each, they wanted to make sure they caught up every now and again.

Never had any of them experienced a journey home quite like it. Exhausted from the excitement of the day and the need to suppress it from those around them, everyone was itching to get to the safety of their homes, to dial out to their respective loved ones, and to let them in on the secret of a lifetime.

Mum, Dad, you’ll never guess what …

-

More than two weeks passed with not another word said on the subject. No one wanted to be the impatient one who cracked and Danny made sure everyone knew that everything was in order, as best it could be. His leadership generally struck a chord in anyone he met. He was someone that people intrinsically followed. A glance here and a smirk there, everyone remained close, happy to be working together without any real worries whatsoever. The constant reminder was to get the next few months out of the way, start to hand in notices and watch as the cash rolled in. Simple.

A tiny little shred of doubt couldn’t always be shrugged off though. Theo approached Toby, a man whose hair left him in his early-20s, blotched pale skin and an unfortunate condition whereby he would ring with sweat constantly.

Er … Where’s Dan this week, mate? Theo asked, faux-nonchalantly.

He didn’t care for the company of others, or their questions, so was happy to shun Theo off quickly. Think he’s ill again, Toby wondered why Theo would need Danny for anything more than their lunch … it was 9:07am and Danny had been off from Monday.

Ah no, hope he’s alright. Er … it was nothing anyway, he fluttered hope you’re all good, thanks.

‘Would he really be off ill? He was never unwell. Christ, he was the embodiment of physical fitness and health. Maybe he just ate something bad? … Or could he? No, surely not. Could this be Danny’s chance of crossing us all out and taking the money?’ Theo speculated.

Theo opted to send the others an email.

From: Theodore Wolfe

Subject: D.M???

Hey guys,

You don’t reckon Danny’s done a runner has he? He isn’t in again. Like, I’m sure it’s nothing, but y’know … what if?

Stefania ran over Let’s chat about this on lunch but I’m sure everything’s fine. You worry way too much, Theo, his submittal to Stefania’s overpowering character was expected.

Jen, however, didn’t seem convinced. Her eyes would always tell someone what she was really thinking, even if her words didn’t, Mmmmmm … yeah, let’s grab lunch, how’s midday? Her tongue stuck out of her pursed lips to wet them, her brown eyes glistened with distrust.

The doorman at The Ivy greeted them with the same warm and unassuming manner as the last time, but the jittering of Theo, Jennifer and Stefania was not from excitement, like before. It had a more soluble tone to it, like someone had died … or double-crossed them.

The seed had been sewn since just after 9am, so three hours of pondering, arguing with themselves and then re-evaluating over and over had certainly taken its toll. Even Stef, arguably the most formidable of the trio, was now unsure.

Someone just message him. Theo pleaded. Jen couldn’t speak, but she obviously agreed with him. Pairing up, they both faintly glanced towards Stefania, hoping she would consider their proposal.

No. He’ll think we don’t trust him. Stefania fired back with the sharpness of a hawk.

Mmm … maybe I don’t. Theo admitted.

You don’t trust a friend you’ve had for four years? Her shock became visible from her raised eyebrows.

I don’t know. If I had to pick out of anyone in the department, I don’t think he’d be my first choice.

"He’s the only choice at the moment … If you want to piss off someone who is very likely just ill, then be my guest, but make sure you tell him I didn’t want to do this."

Fine. Fucking hell Stef. You love an argument, don’t you? … Oh, and cheers for your help Jen, much appreciated. He spat, betraying Jen’s quiet support in the process.

Licking his wounds, he left having not touched the £20 salad. ‘Great’, the remaining women thought, ‘something else for us to pick up’. Begrudgingly splitting the bill between the two of them, their silence was both loud and brightly lit, like the crack in a tower block just before collapse.

Friday came, and Danny’s desk remained vacant. Theo had a bittersweet cloud over him from the fact that he felt like Stefania was wrong, but also from the fact that he felt like he was right.

The three of them hadn’t spoken since The Ivy. Danny was probably and hopefully, none the wiser, but Stefania, Jennifer and Theo’s trio was on the ropes. Justifying his aggression from the idea leeched in his head, Theo was stubborn. Stefania, on the other hand, was unable to deal with someone so pig-headed… and so, ironically, acted similarly. Jen retreated to her own world. It was far safer there, and if this was not meant to be, at least she could be shielded from some of the blast. Equally, she didn’t agree with Stefania, but couldn’t stomach Theo’s attitude. A perfect stalemate.

-

Hello mate Theo shook Danny’s hand like an old friend would I was beginning to worry you’d run out on us, the amount of tact shown was unlike anything Theo had ever offered before.

Danny’s smile quickly turned to a frown. He was puzzled as to why he would think that, and why he wouldn’t message an old friend who was sick.

Yep, just sick mate … no need to worry his eyes rolled.

An icy wind could be felt across the room, fortunately not enough people were in the office to have noticed. Still not completely back at his best, the leader of the pack thought it pointless to dive into confrontation.

Both Jen and Stefania gave overly warm welcome-backs to their good friend Danny, much to his dismissal. Both also managed to give some side-eye to the one who had doubted him all along.

Danny felt a bit awkward with them all, as though their newfound care for him was misplaced and purely for the impending sum. ‘Why couldn’t I be trusted to actually be sick? Why wouldn’t you check in and see if I was alright, regardless of your trust, or lack of, in me?’ He contemplated.

As more questions of doubt arose, a spark ignited. At lunch Theo was a little too eager to summon Danny for a walk. As suspected, they talked things through.

So … er … have you heard from the lottery … or? The last syllable lingered.

A sigh escaped Danny’s cavernous mouth, much to Theo’s notice.

Ah … sorry … I don’t wanna pry mate … it’s me … you know. I’ve got a bit of a nervous disposition with this kind of thing … someti…

Nervous enough not to trust me? Danny couldn’t hold back his retort. He shocked himself a little. Money would make a man act out of character.

No, no, it’s not like that, I just … A sigh of a different nature left Theo, as though he knew he’d lost the fight.

Theo offered to pay for Danny’s meal, now that he was feeling back to normal. He hoped that Danny wouldn’t see it as a poor attempt at patching his probing questions or the lack of compassion he had shown his sick friend. The thought of it made Danny want to wretch. It seemed fortunate that the other two had decided against lunching. He wondered if they had gotten the hint.

The atmosphere remained bitter for the rest of the day, juxtaposed to the untimely sunshine outside, a very strange 20°C heat for late-February.

Theo knew to keep quiet. He was a kind boy, but very anxious and keen not to annoy anyone whilst attempting to subdue his inner worries and thoughts. ‘Put your headphones on and just shush for a bit’ he thought to himself. It wasn’t the time to mess things up with people he actually cared about.

He knew it wouldn’t be long.

-

Danny was still wound up the following morning but noticed everyone’s efforts to steer clear of him. He couldn’t stay all too angry with friends he was about to split a large amount of money with. Helena would come up and ask how he was, almost flirting, but never getting too close for worry of Andre in finance walking past and clocking; James in design too, would come for Danny’s expertise. The day was normal, things were normal, and the fire had simmered.

Striking 4:45pm, the day was nearly done. A wash of surprise came over Danny as he thought he would have been collared by now.

Unbeknownst to him, Jennifer had been out all day on a shoot for the company and she was on her way back. Boredom often filled the shoots as the models would change and props would be added or removed from the site. She started to think about the money, but reminded herself of what Stefania said about letting Danny cool down.

Jen was certain that someone would have spoken to him whilst she was away anyway, and they always got on very well. She knew his girlfriend, Scarlett, and convinced herself that it would be fine to speak with him.

The lift doors opened with the classic ding-dong sound, though they were grand and mahogany. In reality, the office was a lifeless, modern and almost-clinical backdrop. As they opened though, she was met by none other than Danny.

He smiled, seemingly in a much more chipper mood. She took the opportunity to strike and suppress that niggle of impatience.

Oh hey!

Hey Je… He couldn’t get the words out before she asked her next question. One that would act like a firelighter on an almost-cold ember.

What’re the boys and girls at Lotto saying, Danny?

He sighed heavily, Cor, that’s all it is with you guys. Do you know what? I wish we hadn’t won. I can’t go a sodding day without someone pestering me or worrying that I’m not being honest, or that I’m gonna fucking steal it, or that I haven’t heard anything so it mustn’t have been true. I’ve done everything I can. Can you lot just wait a fucking moment? Christ.

The lift doors opened again. ding-dong. No one was inside, which was strange for the time of day, but fortunate. They wouldn’t see the fear on Jen’s face, and it allowed Danny to scurry in and get away. He could see a single tear that started to run down her face as the doors closed.

‘Ah shit’, Danny thought, ‘I need to gather everyone up and sort this before it gets really bad’.

The whole way home Danny considered how this had blown out of proportion. The fact of the matter was, they had won, it was coming, and he had done everything he could. He wondered if he hadn’t said enough to his friends and so this was why they doubted him. Communication is key is what he would always say in business meetings, but he hadn’t communicated properly here and so could only blame himself.

Four stops prior to ejecting from the tube, he drafted a message to the group, hoping it would bring some peace back and offer the lifeline of time until he could find out more.

-

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