There's No Balls in Bingo!

By Julian Cotterell

Julian loves Mondays and, of course, challenges. An author who writes about his life, having been there and done it! Starting his career in bingo the ’60s with ping-pong balls, mainly in converted cinemas, Julian had went through ups and downs with 30 to 2400 people playing bingo at any one time. Julian was instrumental as Managing Director of the 1st legalised bingo in South Africa in 1998... But it all started some 30 years previously.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781398433328

Julian Cotterell

It’s hard to find someone who’s been there and done that. A person who loves Mondays and challenges. Bingo started in old cinemas and progressed to high tech venues full of atmosphere and huge prizes.

Book preview

About The Author

It’s hard to find someone who’s been there and done that. A person who loves Mondays and challenges. Bingo started in old cinemas and progressed to high tech venues full of atmosphere and huge prizes.

Dedication

Dedicated to our big brother Nick.

Copyright Information ©

Julian Cotterell 2021

The right of Julian Cotterell to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398433311 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398433328 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2021

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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E14 5AA

Chapter 1

There was a knock at the door; it was Eric Rayner who lived opposite; he was a rugged looking character, I thought he must have a parcel for us but to my amazement he said, You’re not working at the moment? Eric enquired. I have something that might interest you; would you be interested in working for me?

This sounded like good news as the factory where I had been working had lain off all the clerical staff, me being one of them.

You can tell a good story, can’t you? he asked.

I was intrigued as Eric owned a private investigation company in Chester town centre.

Yes, I replied eagerly.

Eric started, You being 18 years old will work very well.

I’ve got many jobs which would fit well for someone of your age and imagination!

I have many jobs on file which are difficult for me and Simon because were aged 30 plus. I have many young hire-purchase lads and girls who have ‘disappeared’ without paying up. I want you to find them, is this something you could do?

Don’t see why I couldn’t, I quickly answered as the thought of this seemed like a challenge and a bit dangerous, and I would get paid.

Come to the office in Grey Friars Street at 9 am in the morning, at which point Eric walked away.

I was left in a bit of a daze! I didn’t sleep much as this seemed like great fun although a bit daunting.

The office was just two doors away from our family doctor, I had noticed his sign on the wall before but didn’t give it a second thought; I knocked on the black front door. Eric opened the door and shook my hand; he had a good strong handshake, always a good sign!

Eric introduced me to Simon, his partner.

Would you like a cuppa? Simon asked.

It soon became obvious that Eric and Simon had plenty of ‘leads’ for me, Eric told me that it’s not a salary but paid on results. I like a challenge, although I would like to be paid a wage.

Every lead that you complete you get paid three Guineas, Eric said.

Nothing wrong with that, I thought, I was out of work, no money for nights out after all it’s 1968 and that’s good money, and it’s something that I am sure I could do. I took the job and after a week in the office, I would be out to ‘find the hire purchase runners’!

Monday soon came around; I was excited to ‘get started’. I went to a house in Hoole, where Gary, who was 19, had bought a toolkit and cleared off without paying the instalments.

I knocked firmly on the door.

A tired-looking woman answered the door, looked like it was Gary’s mother.

Oh, hello, is Gary home? I asked.

Who wants to know? the woman blurted out.

I’m a friend of Gary’s, I stated.

No, sorry, he’s moved to Leeds, she said quickly.

Oh bummer, I blurted out.

I knew he was going but didn’t realise he’d gone already.

Have you got his address? I asked.

I’ll drop him a line.

It was that easy, she went inside and wrote it down for me!

By the time three o’clock had come, I had three more found, this is fun, and I’m getting paid for it. I was full of smiles when I got back to the office; Eric was in.

"That’s a great result for your first day; this is going to work very well.

Here are your 12 Guineas for the day." And to think I used to get £15 a week at the office factory job! I was ready for Tuesday!

Not every day was a success, but it soon started to get easier. Eric and Simon liked me and said that I should be involved in some night work. Eric said, This can be boring, but with divorces, it’s necessary to stake out at night the houses; the three rules of divorce, he went on say, opportunity, association and inclination, prove these, he said, and we’ve got them bang to rights.

That night, I drove to Boughton on the outskirts of Chester arriving at 12 midnight and saw the car which was parked outside Mrs Hughes’s house. The car was owned by Chris Randles; his wife had commissioned us to track the movements of him as he said he was working away, and she thought he was ‘having a relationship’ with Mrs Hughes.

You can snooze off, but you’ve got to be there all night till he leaves, stick some Sellotape from the wheel to the wheel arch, that way if you snooze off, you can check the tape is in place, and he’s not gone anywhere all night. Remember an extra way of checking on him, watch the house and before he leaves around 6 am, go and feel the bonnet of the car, if it’s cold, he’s not been anywhere apart from having his fun! Eric stated.

Report back to the office after he’s left and we’ll complete an affidavit to prove that he was there the whole night! Eric said.

Mr Randles then falls into the three rules and is stuffed! he continued talking in a legal voice, and sounding just like a barrister…

Opportunity, inclination and association that’s all it takes. Eric had a big grin on his face.

Get in the car, he said to me.

We’re going to meet Sharon Smith; her husband is up to no good.

He went on to tell me as we drove to her house. Sharon opened the door and Eric introduced us.

We spoke on the phone, he said.

Come in, gents, and I’ll tell you what my lovely hubby is up to! Sharon spoke in a quiet well-to-do voice.

His name is Freddie; he goes on clubbing and tells all the girls he’s an airline pilot flying in and out from Hawarden Airport, when he’s just a baggage handler.

Sharon went on to say; she looked tearful as she told us.

I know he’s up to no good and if he is, I want rid of him! I will divorce him, Sharon said angrily.

Eric said, Let’s have all the details.

He drives a sports car, a TR4 triumph and goes to Quaintways night club in Chester, she said.

We left with lots of details and a photo of him. Eric told me to use his Jaguar and follow him from the nightclub. I arrived at Quaintways after Sharon phoned us to say he was working late. I ‘bumped’ into Freddie at the bar; he was my age, good looking and full of it, I managed to get chatting when he said he was waiting for his girlfriend, Rebecca.

Does she have a friend with her? I asked.

No, he replied.

I am not staying long as I’m on a promise tonight, Freddie finished with a big grin on his face.

They left after an hour of dancing and drinking.

I carefully followed him to his car, and I had parked in the carpark where he also had parked. He was a carefree guy and drove like a ‘pilot’ on a mission. I followed as best as I could, but I think he thought it was a race or something; it was raining, the roads were very wet. I’m used to driving a Ford not a Jag so I had to back off; he was doing 60 plus on 30 mph roads. Eric said we need to use two cars; we met Sharon and explained that Freddie is a speeder, and it’s going to take more manpower.

She said, Whatever it takes I want a divorce, if he’s been playing around, I want rid of him.

It got better; Eric borrowed a yellow E-type jag for me to drive and him with his own car; we followed Freddie after another of his nights out. We checked him going down the road to an industrial estate. We waited nearby; after three hours, he appeared in his sports car with his girlfriend. We followed at a distance, as we need to know who the girl was; he sped up and drove into the back of the rural area in Blacon. We had lost him, but we knew he wasn’t far away dropping off his bit of stuff! We drove around using our walkie-talkies; communicating with each other, we combed the streets. Spotted his car! Eric called out over the walkie-talkies. He was parked up outside 62 the Parade and must be inside the house. After about 30 minutes, he appeared with his girlfriend, kissing him goodnight on the doorstep. Eric said, You wait here, don’t go to sleep and find out her name; we’ll meet up in the office tomorrow.

Fortunately, it was a weekday, so the girlfriend came out at 8.10 am, I jumped out of the car and said I had a letter for Mr Hughes; she said no one here by that name; I asked her name.

She said, Ellen Foggitt.

Job done, got her details; Eric will be pleased; I was tired but very pleased with myself getting all the details of the girl. We checked the electoral register back at the office; she and her family were on the address. Eric said, That’s another one done; the three rules of divorce are there.

Well done, Julian, Eric replied.

Every day was different; Eric called me into his office.

Can you run fifty yards before an old farmer can walk twenty yards? Eric asked.

No problem, was my quick reply; Eric said there’s a couple of catches in serving this writ.

Go on, I said nervously.

Well, started Eric, You have to leave the car engine running fifty yards down the road, you’ll be wearing wellies, you’ll serve the farmer the writ; he’ll realise what it is and he’ll go to the farmhouse and get his shotgun!

Seriously? I asked nervously.

Sure, said Eric.

Can you do it?

Yes, I’m sure. I’m a good runner, I replied.

Later that day, I went to the farm, I wore my old scruffy clothes and rang the gate bell. Mr Hughes came out of his front door.

Yes? he called out.

This letter came for us next door, and it’s been delivered by mistake.

I’m in luck; he came to the gate. I gave him the letter, and I said my legal bit.

You’ve been served, I stated proudly.

BUT he plodded off to the house and sure enough came out with this twelve-bore gun, I had run my socks off and was just driving off, BANG, this idiot had lived up to Eric’s prediction and fired his gun. I heard the pellets hitting the back of Mum’s car. Jesus, I thought, that was close. I got home to Lumley Road and inspected the car, not good, small peppered marks. I explained to Mum what had happened; she was understandably furious.

Chapter 2

It didn’t take long before Mum handed me an advert from the Chronicle Newspaper. Doorman required at Top Rank Bingo, Brook Street Chester. Mum said, You need to get a proper job as you are not risking your life doing what you’re doing!

I thought what’s bingo all about? I’ll go and apply and guess what; I might get the job.

Two days into the job of doorman, Bruce the manager called me into his office.

We need a caller in the prize bingo, would you like to try it? You have good qualifications, and I think you could do very well, he said.

Yes, please, thank you, Mr Roberts. I would love to try it out, I eagerly replied.

I met Cliff the manager of the prize bingo; he was a heavy smoker and had long hair, strange image for the job I thought, but he was going to be my boss so I thought let’s try hard and see what this is all about. Cliff turned out to be a great guy, full of ideas and lots of experience in prize bingo. He liked going to the pub at teatime, which I found hard, as he would have a couple of beers, and me with my shandy! I thought I needed to stay sober to call the numbers! In no time, we were breaking the club record with good takings; Cliff promoted me to his assistant, more responsibility and more money, and I loved my new job!

We only had 100 playing position boards on the ‘pad’. This was the legal limit and charging only a tanner or sixpence in normal language to play one board. The staff were great and worked like a team. We broke the company record. We took £3000 in one week.

The Top Rank area manager awarded the company achievement certificate for this milestone. We put the certificate in the prize bingo office in a gold looking frame. We were well chuffed. Cliff said, Let’s all go to the Pied Bull pub after work and have a party!

This turned out to be a real bender and finished back at Sue’s house for a long noisy party. Back to work the next day and back to calling numbers.

It was Wednesday afternoon, one of the busiest days of the week with over 1000 people in the main bingo hall.

Jeff Rowland, the assistant manager, came into the prize bingo at 1.55 pm, five minutes before the ‘eyes down’ of the main bingo.

Julian, he sort of asked, I need you to call the main bingo as the caller hasn’t turned up. It sounded like a command rather than a request!

Help, I thought, never done this before. I haven’t done the main bingo before, I said.

Sorry, Julian, it’s not much different than calling the prize bingo, Jeff added.

I don’t have anyone else who can call, you’ll be okay, won’t you, so will you do it? Jeff said a bit sheepishly.

I’ll try, but the staff will need to help me in case one of the grannies doesn’t shout up, and I miss them and if there’s a quiet call, I said praying.

Sure thing, the staff will be on their toes, he said. I’ll be on the floor the whole time! Jeff added.

It was a daunting experience, but I got through it with no one missing their money. The crowd even gave me a round of applause!

I had done it. I patted myself on the back.

Bruce called me into his office; I was being transferred for two months to the Birkenhead Top Rank club.

We want you to go there to help out, Bruce said. There was a knock and a tall man called Ernie introduced himself to me.

I’m from head office security, there are some discrepancies at Birkenhead prize bingo, we want you to go there to help us and see what you can find. They seem to be very busy and don’t seem to take a lot of money; something doesn’t match up. Are you up for this? It’s not dangerous, we just want you to see if you can see anything wrong, he went on.

I was taken aback, but since I had worked for Eric, my eyes were a bit wider, and I knew all about the cashing up here at Chester.

The prize bingo manager at Birkenhead welcomed me.

Glad you are here, we need another caller on the pad during holidays, Ted said. I worked on all parts on the ‘pad’, and during teatime, I thought I would change the bulb on position 88 as it had gone out that afternoon. I opened the front and lifted the board of 88 up, I changed the bulb and just at that point, I noticed that there was a wire not connected. I knew everyone was out for their tea and looked into other boards only to find nine wires off. I thought that this must be how they are fiddling money, and it’s not registering; it was not rocket science to work out that they were fiddling the company out of about twenty quid a day! A nice little earner, I thought to myself feeling chuffed that I had spotted these wires. It made no difference to the members playing as they only won vouchers for their games. I was now nervous working with Ted, but he always got me to exchange the members’ vouchers for prizes whilst he cashed up so I steered clear of that part of handling money. I drove each day from Chester through to Birkenhead club and my next day off was due. I went in to see Bruce.

How are you enjoying Birkenhead?

I think I have spotted the fiddle, I blurted out.

Bruce picked up the phone. Ernie, he spoke into the phone, I think Julian has found what’s been going on, okay, he said down the phone. Bruce asked me to come back at four when the club was closed for the afternoon break and meet Ernie and explain what I’ve found. Sure enough, Ernie was early; I explained what I had found. Ernie thanked me for my work; he was tall, an ex-policeman. He shook my hand, and I left the office. I heard later the following day from Bruce that Ernie and three of his team went to the club for cashing up that evening; the police were called with Ted, the prize bingo manager, and his assistant being arrested for stealing company’s money.

I was back in Chester after a week’s holiday and back with Cliff and the team, they quizzed me on what had happened. I just had to act with total surprise and said I was only the caller there and changed the prizes as Ted had kept me away from cashing up as I was only there as caller relief. My answers seem to have gone down okay…I think.

Chapter 3

Life was going well, and I enjoyed my job, I got a letter in my clocking in card slot to contact the area manager’s office upstairs.

I was nervous reading this as it was an application to apply as an assistant manager, I showed the letter to the manager Bruce who said that I should apply; he would be sorry to lose me, but it was a great opportunity.

The interview seemed easy, the area manager Neil Saunderson asked lots of questions especially about my education as I had been to Rydal Public School in Colwyn Bay, where I had excelled in maths and English, which would do me well in the management role ahead.

Mr Saunderson said my training would be at the prestigious Kilburn State Top Rank Club in north London.

The course took 12 weeks and covered every part of the game of bingo. I didn’t even realise how many squares were on a bingo card until I went on this course, yes, that’s right, twenty-seven I checked it out.

The trainers covered everything. We worked Monday through to Friday and could only leave on Friday afternoon when we had buttered all the sandwiches for that night’s bingo session.

I had bought a 650 cc Triumph Saint ex-cop motorbike. It even had the box on the petrol tank where they used to have a phone. This would get me back every Friday to Chester after my course week had ended. I used to do the trip in three hours, a bit scary, as it was not all motorways in those days. It was training, out of the blue, the manager running the cinema upstairs asked for the trainees to come up to the cinema.

You guys are just what we need to make our hotdog advert! he said. We need you to be filmed enjoying our hotdogs, are you up for it? he asked, and not a moment passed when the camera man was ready to shoot; we were eager to take part, well worth doing this we all thought ‘free hot dogs’! We saw the advert so many times after that…Hollywood next… I don’t think so, I thought.

Back in the bingo hall, we trained in the office and worked in the bingo hall in the afternoon. It was so hot, smoky and so busy every afternoon and evening. One afternoon, we heard a commotion in the middle of these 1000 people. What’s going on? Jeff asked me.

I heard someone shout for a full house, there was a lot of noise from the players caused by someone shouting house with only 22 numbers being called with a usual game lasting for 45 to 55 numbers, I told him.

Oh, yeah, no chance, he said. Must be a line shout, but the line had already gone and been checked and claimed, Jeff said, just then there was a lot of shouting by this woman.

I’ve got a full house, she protested. The whole place was getting ugly and angry with her.

Not possible, some guy shouted.

It’s a fix, others were shouting; it was getting even more uglier.

The caller asked for the manager to come to the stage. Bill Dawson, the manager, looked at the ticket and told the staff member to put the ticket under the camera, Bill said, We’re going to check it and see if it’s a winner. Sure enough, the staff member called out the numbers slowly with the caller verifying every number slowly, after all fifteen numbers had been verified, the caller and Bill, who was on the stage, confirmed that it was a full house in 22 numbers.

The audience went ballistic, shouts of ‘fix’ ‘cheats’ ‘call the police’ were everywhere amongst the 1000 plus people.

Bill got on the microphone. I’ve never seen a house called in 22 numbers, he said, but we’ve checked it in front of all of you; it’s a winner. The audience were still unhappy as they were still disbelieving this could be possible! Bill said, What I will do is stay on the same ticket for the next person to get another full house for the same money.

The audience still mumbled, but as soon as the caller said, Right, then carrying on the same ticket for the next person to get a full house, the next number is twenty-six, two and six, twenty-six, the hall went quiet and the marking off of the numbers carried on. Wow, that was a tricky moment, I thought to myself, but it seemed that Bill handled it well. The 22 numbers called winning ticket was kept and checked by security staff and to this day, it was a winner in such a low call, probably a record low call! Might even make the Guinness Book of Records! Before we knew the next problem came with someone saying that they knew who was going to win the last big game as there was always one person shouting they had won, by the time the staff had gone to the far side of the hall, they found that it was a false claim; the manager showed us the scam.

What they do is they use ‘Letraset’ after rubbing off a number and waiting till their accomplice calls house, this claim is found to be void and the other person fits on their final number using ‘Letraset’. They shout now that they have a claim, in all the commotion, the claim is checked and verified quickly under the camera. Most of the audience is up and leaving. We found out later that the checker and caller were in cahoots with the two members, the manager told us. Cheeky buggers! he added, but we prosecuted, and they all got a jail sentence for fraud.

Training of 10 weeks came to an end; Bill told me to come to his office the following morning at 10 am.

You’ve done well, Julian, have you learnt a lot? he asked.

Yes, it’s been very interesting and informative, I eagerly replied.

Right then, said Bill. You can have the rest of the week off; it’s Thursday now and Monday March 1st you should report to Arthur Peacock at Dudley Top Rank as assistant manager at 11 am. The company will pay for you to be resident in a local B&B for four weeks then you’ll need your own digs.

Fantastic I thought and walked out of Bill’s office with my letter with all the details in it. I quickly opened my letter, assistant manager it said, ‘£25 a week’; this is brilliant. I packed up and got on my motorbike and went back to Chester to tell Mum and Dad. They were very excited for me. Mum said, We must buy you a small car to help you get about. We went to the local garage down at the Batch Garage five minutes away. There was a perfect car for me, an Austin 1100, COP 502C; its reg read. Mum gave the dealer a cheque; I couldn’t wait to drive it home.

Thanks so much, Mum, I said. This is fantastic. I am so grateful, I said giving Mum and big hug.

Chapter 4

Monday soon came around, I set off for Birmingham, and it was raining cats and dogs! I was on the M6 motorway, the traffic was busy and everything started to slow down, I braked and heard this whoosh, my feet were soaked, the floor in the back had a gap in! Bloody garage, I said out loud.

Once the traffic started to move off, I was gaining speed when the car started to feel a bit jerky. Not only were my feet getting wet with the water swishing around but the car seemed as if it was about to stop.

I managed to steer from the middle lane waving out of the window getting even more water and pulled over on the hard shoulder. I couldn’t work out what was wrong; the petrol gauge said ¼ full. I took the petrol cap off and shook the car and sure enough, the petrol gauge was faulty.

I now had to track over 1½ mile backwards to the service station, but fortunately, the rain had now ceased. I managed to get a gallon worth of petrol in the car. I gave the car a shake and to my joy ‘vroom vroom’, it started!

I drove on and got to the bingo hall for 10.30 am. I parked up and found the office and introduced myself to Arthur Peacock.

Sorry, Mr Peacock, but I have had an eventful journey so please excuse my appearance, I added although by now I had just about dried out! He was a slick guy, smart suit, and I thought I’m going to enjoy working for this manager. So here I am in Dudley Birmingham, away from home and looking for a bedsit. The staff were all different types, young and old and must have thought, ‘Who’s this 19-year-old assistant manager?’. I soon found out what this was about, but fortunately, the excellent ‘training’ I had had in Kilburn was put into practice.

We’ve booked you into the Red Lion Hotel opposite the club for a couple of weeks until you find yourself a flat, Ernie added.

I found a bedsit only a short walk from the bingo club, a bit small but on my wages it would do. The small town of Dudley was mainly a high street with some good pubs where we all seemed to go after work at 10 pm. Arthur didn’t lock up as it was the ‘assistant’s job’.

A circular came from head office for all clubs to host a ‘beer drinking contest’ to find the fastest members who could down a pint! Arthur briefed me on this and said that this was my ‘baby’ to run the contest. The beer was free as it was sponsored by ‘Double-Diamond’.

I stuck up the competition posters in the foyer, lots of interest for this for Saturday night. Big Tom was right at the front of the queue, Bill downed the pint in 3.2 seconds, Albert was determined to beat that and choked half way through, and then it was Big Tom’s turn. He was 6 foot something and looked like he had been training all his life!

Come on, they all shouted in the small bar area and true to his build, Big Tom knocked it back in 2.4 seconds!

Wow, I thought, no one’s going to beat that, a few tried. Big Tom wanted another go, but I said, Sorry, no chance; it’s not a free bar. I proudly gave Tom the certificate and a bar voucher for £10 as our club’s winner. Big Tom’s time was the quickest in the Top Rank area and went onto ‘represent’ our club in the grand final Finsbury Park London. Arthur being the manager accompanied Big Tom to the final; they came back with the trophy! I proudly put the trophy in the pride of place in the club’s bar.

One night, I was woken up with a loud bang in my bedsit, I turned the light on expecting to find an intruder, but not that, but the cooker had fallen through the floor! It was all rotten; I soon moved out and found a 2-bed house in Wolverhampton for a bit more money. I had more room and independence. I got a call from Phil Hatch, a best friend from Chester; he had a job in Wolverhampton on a building site for a 6-month contract.

Any chance of renting me a room in your house? he asked. Brilliant, I thought that’ll help pay the rent. Phil came by train into New Street Birmingham; I hadn’t seen Phil since I left Chester some six months ago so it was going to be great fun ‘partying with him’.

I was lucky to get a Saturday off for a change and having a lazy morning. Phil was cooking breakfast after we had had a night out clubbing the night before. There was a knock on the door, and it was Sheila from the club with her suitcase and her baby! I have to put the situation in context, I had been ‘seeing’ Sheila who worked at the club but nothing that serious and never said, ‘leave your husband and move in’. Holy shit, I thought! Sheila came in and we talked through this nightmare.

I’m sorry, Sheila, but I’m not up for this, you need to go back and make the peace with your husband. After lots of tears, I took her back to her house. The next evening, two old couples came to the office in the bingo club and knocked on the office door. Come in, I called out opening the door, how can I help you? I thought they were coming to book our special club outing, but to my shock, they were the mother and father and in-laws of Sheila.

We’re going to report you to head office for messing around with our daughter, they shouted.

Just at that moment, Arthur came in. Hello, he started but soon realised what the problem was. Arthur said, I’ll sort this out, please leave it with me.

You better do, Mr Peacock, otherwise we’ll report him to head office. They left and Arthur gave me the bollocking of my life! Sheila never came back to work and we got back to normal. Arthur said, "Number one rule, don’t mess around with the staff; it’ll always