Bella Vista: Early Retirement Village

By Thomas Muldoon

Living in a retirement complex where everyone has a story some meet some of the characters where there's romance, intrigue and mischief. You might see yourself or loved on in this story or, it might give you a taste of what's to come...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Muldoon
• Release date: Sep 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005404024

Thomas Muldoon

Brief Bio for Thomas Muldoon by Richard AndersonSince he began his practise in the early 70’s Thomas has helped many people achieve their goals using Numerology, Tarot & Astrology as tools for transformation, self awareness, development and self- discovery,With an interest in Erotica (using the pen name Brother Thomas) and the pleasure it brings to many, having Scorpio midheaven allows him to bring stories, fantasies and adventures to life at and where different characters play out erotic and sexual scenes for the male imagination...On a serious note: over his many years as an Astrological / Numerological Consultant he has guided and mentored many with his easy style of presentation. In print, on screen, in person or on your phone you'll find his words resonate..

Book preview

The Villa

What a fucking dump thought Jack as his son-in-law, wheeled him into reception. You're gonna love it here Jacko said Paul somewhat sarcastically, state of the art in reusable construction he enthused, thinking to himself I'll be glad to see the back of this whining old bastard. My goodness, yoooou are on time said the smiling receptionist welcome to my Bella Vista she gushed, approaching Jack arms outspread in welcome, its Italian for a beautiful view she whispered in his ear you're gonna love it here Jacko she said, mimicking Paul. My name is Jack he snorted forget the fucking O…

The receptionist reeled back, looked at Paul and said let's get Mr. Jack Jackson’s paperwork sorted giving Jack a stern look as she marched back to the safety of her desk. Jack wheeled himself into the complex. Jesus H Christmas he whistled what a shit hole. Snapping out of his reverie Jack felt Maria the receptionist, paperwork in hand, take hold of his wheelchair ready to go visit your new home? she laughed. Paul walking a few paces behind, hesitant of Jack’s reaction. Where's that bitch daughter of mine? Jack enquired to whoever was listening. She’s defending a case in court replied Paul, she’ll bring some of your things over later. You're both well matched, you and Carla snapped Jack never together in the same place at the same time, both a complete waste of space he grunted as Maria began pushing him into the courtyard. Now, now, Mr. Jack, we’re all one big happy family here she laughingly interrupted, Jack noticed a slight accent.

If the reception area reminded Jack of a cheap motel in a bad American movie what was to come was a real eye opener. Slap bang in the middle of the concrete moss covered courtyard, was a tired and dilapidated fountain, peeling paint, touches of rust, broken figurines and leaking water. Nothing like the Trevi Fountain he laughed, pointing to one of the headless figures. Maria sighed, I've seen the real one, so much bigger. Jack immediately sensed an Italian background. The courtyard was littered with fake palm trees, fake bushes, fake flower beds, seats of different colours dotted randomly here and there with fairy lights dangling from uneven poles surrounding the courtyard. Again Jack thought what a shithole.

Although there was no one in sight, he could feel eyes everywhere, watching him being wheeled towards his ‘villa.’ Here we are said Maria Villa Nove - number nine, you're new home, shall I carry you over the threshold? She giggled. Villa? he sighed heavily, staring at two shipping containers side by side! I’ll walk he snapped, raising himself from his wheels. Paul watched on, saying nothing, handing Jack his walking stick. Before entering his ‘villa’ Jack looked around at the complex, twelve units in all, everyone a different colour, like living in a box of Liquorice Allsorts he thought. Blue buildings, red doors, yellow buildings, green doors, you name it, there wasn't a colour missing, talk about kitsch, he mused, unable to find the right expletive

Although it was two forty foot shipping containers side by side, upon inspection it was well thought out. The doors of the left container welded permanently open and re-modeled into a wind protected glass covered patio, polished wooden deck, a standard front door, with coded security entrance, brilliant white bistro table and two chairs along with the obligatory plastic palm. That'll have to go whispered Jack to no one in particular.

You like? asked Maria enthusiastically, your son in law chose Número Nove just for you; yooo like? She repeated, My favourite number, so masculine she smiled. Written in large ornate floral script, underneath the window on the right was Number Nine written in Italian, not exactly garish but a little over the top he thought, noticing a small number 9 sticker near the keypad. She asked him again, all excited at the prospect of having this good looking, if a little foul mouthed, ex police detective sergeant, living in her lucky Numero Nove! Jack shrugged.

Where's the keys? he asked. Paul took a few steps forward, it's all digitally coded he said, expecting a sarcastic remark. Great, now I won't have to worry about losing my keys replied Jack. Paul didn't know if he was being serious or facetious. You can either use your phone or the keypad on the door said Paul, handing Jack a piece of paper with the PIN code. Jack punched the keypad, the door clicked with the words WELCOME emitting from the speaker in a loud female voice. Turning to Paul, eyes rolling, he opened the door and ventured inside.

Jack couldn't believe his eyes, turning to his right was a small plush grey coloured soft furnished L shaped lounge with dark blue throw cushions, lightly coloured wooden side tables with black metal lamps, non slip flooring, and an oriental rug beneath a solid wood Huon pine coffee table, tasteful he thought.

A large window above the lounge with a roller blind set into its recess, no curtains. Walls, soft white in colour. It'll look good with my paintings, he thought. On his left was a large television on the wall with a tasteful modular unit underneath. The kitchen to the far right, divided floor to ceiling from the lounge by a delicate but strong black coloured metal open bookcase, matching the colour of the lamps, an elegant touch he mused. The kitchen was well designed, stainless steel fridge, matching dishwasher, ample bench and cupboard space, mmmm, he thought, I could cook up a storm in here…

A small two seat dining table, underneath a recessed window with matching roller blind, the same, above the kitchen sink, still no curtains, the sunlight from the windows making everything look larger. Someone really thought about the design he reminded himself, impressed with all he was looking at. Walking down the small but ‘wheelchair/walking frame friendly’ hallway to his bedroom, made more spacious by a sliding door entry, double bed with side tables on either side, touch lamps with small round black lampshades, a small wardrobe with drawers and a desk on wheels for his laptop, small TV or whatever. A full length sliding door window with vertical blinds, opening to a small enclosed verandah, on the opposite side, to his front door, another nice touch, he contemplated, and probably a good sun trap in the morning, he mused. His en-suite and laundry accessed via another sliding door, was a good size, well designed and lit by an overhead sun dome; he smiled and thought, nice…

Paul was still standing at the front door, Maria had left. Watcha think? he asked, wondering what Jack would say. I bloody well love it he replied enthusiastically who designed the interior? Jack enquired, spreading his arms in admiration. "Well, to be honest it was a mutual collaboration between your bitch daughter and myself Paul replied sarcastically, tilting his head, smirking a little, turning and looking into the courtyard, talking of such, here she comes and we do agree on some things he shrugged, handing Jack a small expensively decorated package tied bright blue ribbon, heading to the toilet. What's this? asked Jack, reaching for the package. Is it going to explode? Your new best friend laughed Paul, leaving Jack standing in the lounge room of his Número Nove whilst he went to take a leak…Hello dad waved Carla as she managed to navigate the slippery courtyard pulling two suitcases behind her; got some things for you" she puffed. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug was the usual greeting between father and daughter. Ever since his marriage disintegrated there was a real but tolerable distance between the two, Jack knowing there'd be no grandchildren in his lifetime! Cases plunked on the front porch she reached into her shopping bag to produce a couple of bottles of champagne and Jack’s favourite Whisky. Let's celebrate she said. Jack knowing the champagne wouldn't be opened. Paul joined the little gathering, wiping his hands, as he approached his wife, kiss, kiss, hug, hug. Jack knew there was no real love but a supportable distance between them knowing full well Paul got his entrees elsewhere and she her desserts from a number of admirers. It's their life he thought, but it's my money that's their main course…

There’s plenty of food in the pantry, fresh food in the fridge, freezer full and all the stuff you need for cooking, cleaning and living life to the full Carla enthused, pulling three champagne flutes from the cupboard, surprising her father; asking Paul to open one of the bottles. Let’s toast to a long and happy life for Dad in Bella Vista she continued, nice place eh? pointing to the ceiling. Down lighting creates such a good vibe, don't you think? Paul and I had a lot of input with the architect, designer, colour consultant, interior decorator, tech wizards and all things beautiful she enthused, raising her glass in satisfaction. Paul and Jack joined her in appreciation of Villa Number Nine…Bags unpacked amid oohs and ahhs of memories returning, pictures, ornaments and artifacts. Carla had thought of everything, even some memorabilia of Mollie; Jack’s former physiotherapist. It was getting late in the afternoon and time for their departure. Kiss, kiss, hugs, hugs all around leaving Jack on his own. Ciao" laughed Carla as she and Paul left, arm in arm through the complex, knowing eyes would be everywhere. All for show, thought Jack. Another reconnoiter of his new abode gave Jack a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling when he sat on his new and comfortable sofa, opening the package sitting on the coffee table.

GERALDINE

"My name is GERALDINE, but you can call me Gerry it said when he touched the iridescent orange cube inside. Startled, he dropped it on the coffee table, thank fuck it’s not glass" he said out loud. Please be careful with me he heard. "I’m tough but not unbreakable" it continued.

Looking at the instructions booklet, it read. I'm your personal assistant. Ask me anything. Is that it? he gasped, throwing the useless piece of paper on the floor, looking for the on/off switch and charging cable, before placing the brightly coloured orange speaker-like object on one of the side tables when he heard it say: ‘please don't place me under the lamp.’

Startled by the sinister female voice he quickly placed the unit back on the coffee table: ‘thank you’ it said. Jack reached for his favourite whisky and poured himself a large scotch on the rocks - aaaaahhhhh he sighed, undoing his artificial leg. ‘Enjoy your drink’ he heard from the gizmo called Geraldine…

As the sun began to set Jack noticed the ceiling lights begin to glow brighter and brighter, the window blinds slowly lowering and the other table lamp came on. Jesus H Christmas he uttered, when the unit on the table replied: ‘it's not Christmas Jack.’ Fuck me drunk he thought, it’s one of those artificial intelligent thing-me’s, stretching and reaching to switch it off, the bright blue LED dimmed, he thought the unit was off. Sipping another mouthful, reclining on his plush L shaped lounge, his artificial leg lying on the floor, he thought of Mollie…

Jack made headline news many years ago when he was shot repeatedly by two youths attempting a robbery, resulting in the loss of his right leg just above the knee. The youths escaped, never to be found, something that still stuck in Jack’s craw to this day. His recovery was long and arduous resulting in his retirement from the police force, the resulting destruction of his already precarious marriage and his loss of interest in everything and everyone, including his daughter. To say he was bitter with the world would be an understatement! During his recovery and therapy he found solace and comfort with his physiotherapist; Mollie.

Over time their relationship blossomed, his confidence returned and his love for Mollie grew stronger and stronger to the point where they started living together on and off, his place one weekend, her place the following, travelling together and living life to the full. Two independent people yet one relationship, you couldn’t write a better love story: until…

The day he started his own private investigations business and yes, the irony of it all was; the very same day Mollie was given a ‘too-good-to’ refuse opportunity to work in the USA. A man without love - is a lost man he often told himself. Jack poured himself another drink, raised his glass in an imaginary toast to Mollie, his phantom leg was beginning to give him gyp, the light on the orange gizmo blinking rapidly.

You bloody well not explode he grunted, returning to his reverie, laughing to himself when he reflected upon the first time he and Mollie made love, hurried and passionate after an evening at the theatre, a late night drink at an up-market nightclub and the hilarious moment when his artificial leg hit the wall during their frenzied sex session. Mollie being Mollie, laughed like a little girl, he too, doubled up in the merriment, realising his manhood didn't depend on being legless! From that moment on he and Mollie were not only lovers but best friends.

The blue LED light of the bright orange unit kept blinking…

Looking for the television remote his phone rang, Dad, I've been trying to call you said Carla, are you ok? I'm fine Jack replied in exasperation this little ‘thingy’ Paul left is giving me the creeps. It's your best friend interrupted Carla ask it anything and it'll carry out your command, go on, ask it to turn on the television. Jack looked at the cube when he heard a voice saying ‘thank you Carla.' Turn on television he said loudly to the little orange device. You don't have to shout said Carla in his ear. The TV turned on. Now, ask it to change channels laughed Carla. He did and the channel changed. See how easy it is chirped his daughter. Have fun" she said before hanging up, forgetting to tell him he'd left his crutches at home. Jack was now intrigued, let's see what this little gizmo can do, he asked it to change channels again and again, he asked for the volume to go up and down then requested the television be turned off, silence. Until…

A female voice uttered in a different tone, more of an order than a helpful voice: ‘It's 9pm and time for your medication’ he heard from the device on the coffee table. Where's my bloody crutches he asked himself, then remembered he'd left them at his former home. Slipping on his prosthetic leg he walked, with the aid of his walking stick, to the bathroom to get his medication; bugger, bugger, he thought. The LED light on the gizmo was blinking at a faster rate…

Paul and Carla had thought of everything, medications, electric razor, toothbrush, all he needed everything but my bloody crutches he said to the mirror. ‘Are you okay?’ he heard a loud voice in the distance. Furious and returning to the living room determined to turn off the annoying device he heard it say: ‘I could not sense your presence and was about to call emergency services’ it intoned. Jack was about to say something