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Unintentional Match Maker version 2

Novel By: Rico Chet
Erotica



To anyone who has read the opening chapters of Unintentional Matchmaker, this is the same story but now told as a third person narrative (rather than a first). My thanks to those who gave advice and support in the change.
The story is that of a very ordinary man who has been going through a bad time, but then has his life choices changed by a winning lottery ticket. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Submitted:Feb 12, 2014    Reads: 217    Comments: 5    Likes: 6   


Denis was excited. He had gone from nothing to everything. His face formed a fixed grin as he drove. It had been a long day but he showed no trace of tiredness.

The morning had started as badly as usual. He had crawled out of bed at quarter to six, shivered, pulled on his clothes and got in the car. He arrived at the factory a few minutes before six thirty and fetched the bucket to begin mopping out the toilets. When you need the money you will take any job you can get and Denis needed the money.

At eight he drove to an office block, emptied the bins, vacuumed the carpet, wiped the desks, cleaned the toilets and left for the pub a bit before nine. In the pub it was toilets, floors and tables in the public bar, carpet and table polishing in the lounge bar and the same for the restaurant. Wash all windows inside and finish just before eleven. At eleven he was at the Diner cleaning the toilets, tables and floor. At twelve he was in another office, cleaning round people who didn't notice he was there.

At two o'clock he finally go a break and had a ten minute doze in the car, then it was time to eat. He opened the bag that held his lunch and found that his milk bottle was empty, though he remembered filling it before he went to bed. This had happened before. He checked the sandwiches. The cheese was missing and had been replaced with a thick coating of mustard. One of Karen's little jokes.

Denis was hungry so he scraped off as much of the mustard as he could and ate the bread. With the food gone he was thirsty. He checked his pockets and found one pound and nineteen pence in small change, so he decided to treat himself at a nearby shop. The only drinks were carbonated crap and the cheapest was one pound twenty so he went wild and bought a lottery ticket instead, ignoring the sneer of the girl when he paid her the pound in small change.

By two thirty he was back at the factory. The toilets were worse than in the morning. Another pub at three thirty, toilets and tables. Then George arrived as he was finishing.

"I need you to do an extra," George said. "A bastard let me down. Office block on Grange Road. You should be finished by nine."

Denis sighed. George gave him a hard stare. "If you don't want the work, just fuck off. You're replaceable. Are you complaining?"

"No," Denis said, "but I need to get something to eat and I left my money at home."

"I don't do subs," George said. "I'm not a fucking bank. Pay day is tomorrow." George, such a caring employer, turned and walked out.

At six Denis was in the office block cleaning the toilets, polishing the floors and wiping the desks. He helped himself to a drink from the water cooler to try to quell his grumbling belly.
Poor old Denis was feeling hard done by when it happened. He was polishing the floor in the entrance hall and feeling envious of the security guard sitting behind a desk eating a pie with a mug of tea by his hand and a small television keeping his attention. The lottery numbers came up on the screen and Denis paused in his cleaning and looked. He pulled out his lottery ticket and looked again. His hand began to shake. The numbers were off the screen before he could check them one more.

Denis didn't jump for joy or scream in happiness. He showed no feeling of excitement, just disbelief. He put the ticket away carefully and got back to work. By the time he finished at nine o'clock he was feeling a bit shaky.

Denis kept his phone in the car because the battery wouldn't hold a charge so it had to be plugged into the cigarette lighter to make a call. He phoned the number on the ticket and a cheery voice asked him to read out the numbers followed by the identification number on the ticket and tell her where he purchased it. It was confirmed. Denis was the big winner on a rollover week. Then his excitement begin to grow.

On the journey home he drove with extra care and very steadily. The way his luck had been running for the last two years had taught him to expect disasters. He could visualize having the winning ticket in his pocket and suddenly being involved in a car crash. He would be in a coma for six months. The ticket would be lost. He could see something like that happening. But it didn't.

The house was empty. Denis made himself a sandwich and a cup of tea and smiled at the extravagance of his celebration. Then he fell asleep in front of the television.

He didn't hear his wife come in, but became aware of voices and of Karen's little lilting laugh that had attracted his attention the first time they met.

"Ah," Karen said, "what have we here? Oh, it is a toilet cleaner sleeping on my clean armchair. You are supposed to wash and change before you go near the furniture."

Richard Tarpon was with her. "He looks like shit," Richard said. Karen's laugh tinkled again.

"Would you like a nightcap?" she asked.

"No thanks, I shall leave you two alone, I'm sure you have things to discuss."

She smiled at him, "Indeed we have. I'll see you out."

They left the room. Denis heard her giggle, then some whispering followed by another giggle. Karen returned a moment later and went directly to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a gin and tonic.

Denis was awake and anticipating the look on her face when he told her the news. Their relationship had been going through a difficult time since his redundancy two years before. He was sure that the money would help them rebuild and be happy again. Pleasure was rising in bubbles from inside him. He stood and moved towards her.

"I have something to tell you." He grinned at her.
"You smell. Don't come any closer." She stepped away from him. "Denis, you are repulsive. You come in smelling like that and soil the furniture. I want to live in a nice house."

"It is a nice house."

"No thanks to you, when you're here it smells like a dirty toilet. The thing that is wrong with this house is you."

Denis stared at her, his joy of the moment dispersing.

"Don't look all pathetic. I don't want a scene, I have come to a decision. I want you to move out. I want a divorce." Denis continued to stare. "Don't try and act surprised, even you must have known this was coming. I have had all the necessary papers drawn up. We officially separated yesterday. Don't try to argue, I am not going to change my mind."

Karen put her drink on the coffee table and opened her briefcase. "It is a simple document and all it needs now is your signature."

She passed Denis a piece of paper and he glanced at it. It was a simple statement, Karen and Denis agreed to separate because their marriage was irretrievably broken down. Denis had no claim on Karen and she had no claim on him. It also stated that they were both fully satisfied with the distribution of their communal property.

The paper already had Karen's signature, along with the signatures of two witnesses. It was dated the previous day.

"It should be witnessed after I sign," Denis said.

"Don't be pathetic." Karen said. "Just sign there. Do it. Sign now." She gave him a pen.

Denis was in a daze. He signed.

"Now sign here." She put another piece of paper inn front of him. He didn't even try to read it, just signed. Another piece of paper was put in front of him. He signed it, and the next and the next. Finally she gave him a wedge of papers. "These are your copies."

"So what happens next?" he asked.

"Your suitcases are on the landing. I packed all of your things. You can leave now. I want my life back."

"Are we selling the house?"

"No, I am not."

"Well this division of communal property that we are both so happy with, when do I get my share? I need to find somewhere to live."

"Your share is in your suitcases."

"I mean my half of the house."

"It is my house." Her face was expressionless.

"It's in joint names," Denis said.

"You signed your half over to me. It is my house. You have your suitcases and their contents. You have your car. It is now time for you to put your suitcases in your car and leave. We will not need to see each other again."

Karen walked to the door and opened it. Richard Tarpon was in the hall, she waved him in.

"I asked Richard to stay in case you became difficult. Now that you've signed all of the papers I wouldn't want you to change your mind and try to get them back. Goodbye, Denis."

Denis felt his whole body freeze. A thought went through his head. "I didn't crash on the way home, I crashed at home."

"Could you put these in a safe place please, Richard, and bring the suitcases down, I don't want Denis going upstairs again."Richard smiled and went to the stairs.

Denis stood there, totally still and silent. "I suppose your relationship is more than work," he said at last.

"Denis, you are a little prick and you have a little prick. Don't talk, just leave."

"And Richard is a total prick and you are a total bitch. I shall be glad to go. I need my papers." He moved towards the bureau.

"Your papers, driving license, birth certificate, passport and all the other proof that you exist are in the suitcases. There is nothing else of yours in the house. Goodbye Denis."

Richard returned carrying two suitcases. Denis took them from him and left.

It was cold in the car so Denis passed an uncomfortable night and was pleased to start work at six. The factory, the office, the pub, the office, the pub. He still had no cash and therefore no food. He had no feeling either other than a numb pain that filled his whole being. He worked mechanically, more like an unthinking machine than a human. He was postponing all thought, waiting for George's arrival.

When George came into the pub he gave Denis an envelope. He had worked sixty eight hours the previous week, though that was not shown on the payslip. There was nearly three hundred pounds in the envelope, it he was being underpaid as usual, George was a cheating bastard. Denis took the cash and stuffed it into his pocket.

"I need you to do the office block on Grange Street again," George said.

Denis shook his head slowly.

"Fine, you ungrateful little shit, I shall pay you off. You're not indispensable." He pulled a wad of notes from his pocket and counted out six twenties. "Your choice, take this and you're paid off, or get your ass round to the office block and get to work."

Denis took the money.

"Don't be stupid, Denis. You need the work. Where are you going to get another job, cause I promise you that if you let me down I won't take you back."

Denis shrugged his indifference and noticed the expression change on George's face. "I don't want to sack you, Denis."

The landlord walked past them to unlock the pub's front door. Denis pushed the bucket and mop into the cupboard. "Bye, George," he said and he walked into the public bar.

"I'll see you tomorrow," George said. "And don't be late."

"You paid me off, George." Denis sat at the bar. The barmaid was arranging bottles on a shelf, he asked for a pint of guinness and a packet of crisps, he was hungry. George had followed him into the bar.

"You will be in tomorrow!" he said.

Denis shook his head.

"You can't just walk out on me with no notice, I rely on you. I can't replace you just like that."

"You paid me off, George. I don't work for you any more."




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