Changing Values

By Kenneth Wells

Keith Denton's burning ambition is to build a property empire. No sooner does he realise his dream than a series of events snatch everything from him. When his struggle for survival reaches its lowest ebb a good deed is rewarded with the opportunity to acquire limitless wealth. Will Keith make the same mistake again or will the secret love of his life overcome his passion for success. Changing Values charts the journey from youth to wisdom, wealth to happiness, a path many of us follow but few arrive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9780244003470

Book preview

Changing Values

Author’s Note

Warning:  The formula contained within this book for winning at roulette is that purchased by several persons to acquire their fortunes during the early 1960’s.  Many casinos regard this system as cheating.  Should you be discovered using it you might well find yourself being ejected unceremoniously from the premises.

Dedicated to my late wife, Lyn, and a lost friend at Hammersmith College of Art and Building (1964) for sharing a secret.

Part One

February 1990 - near Port Elizabeth, South Africa

Chapter 1

A Yellow Butterfly

The heat from the high northern sun burnt down.  A yellow butterfly danced across the surface of the pool, leaving tiny rings of shimmering silver that disappeared without trace.  This was a far cry from the damp, misty countryside surrounding Ashton Manor, near Petersfield, which we left just three weeks ago.

The chink of ice on glass turned my head.  Sue’s outstretched hand offered me a much-welcomed drink.  She settled down beside me on a lounger to soak up the late morning rays of South African sun.  An elderly couple sitting under the shade of the bar canopy nearby talked loudly in German.  I stepped forward and slipped into the cooling waters of the manmade rock pool set between the bar entrance in the main building and our spacious bedroom suite in the adjacent Cape Dutch annexe.

The hotel boasted four stars and was merited in terms of food and service.  I could not imagine a series of low buildings with tin roofs and rickety verandas achieving four stars back in England - but I knew where I would rather be.

Don’t forget to put more cream on, Sue said as I climbed from the pool, your shoulders look very sore.

It was now past noon and the sun was at its hottest.  We retired to our bedroom to escape the heat.  I lay back on the bed and the drone of air conditioning induced me to sleep.

It was nearly 5pm when I awoke.  Sue was sitting in a Lloyd loom chair by the window hunched over a paperback, her short blond hair forming a veil over the profile of her face, her feet tucked under her legs.  At first I thought she was asleep until she gently turned a page with a slow poetic sweep of her finger.  She looked stunning. Even after nineteen years of married life and bringing up two children, she still possessed the ability to attract, like a nicely wrapped present with ribbon and bow enticing the onlooker to reveal the contents.

She glanced over.  It’s time we left to pick up Jan and Danny, it’s over a forty minute drive away.

Danny was my best friend since school days.  Sue and Jan were friends since meeting at the Isle of Wight Pop Festival back in 1970.  The festival may have done little for the Isle of Wight but provided two lads from London with loves of their lives.  We met them at the concert and, with a little help from Jimi Hendrix and The Who; we swept them off their feet.  Danny was always cautious.  He left school for university then, with his degree, secured a position with the London Borough of Hillingdon where he remained trapped ever since.  In their sixteen years of marriage they had never taken a foreign holiday.  ‘One of the boys may get a tummy bug’ or ‘the children will get airsick’ was always his reply whenever I suggested they came to Spain with us.  I could see Jan was disappointed but she always loyally agreed with Danny, until last summer, when I suggested they visit us during a long holiday we were planning in South Africa.  ‘Of course we can come, my parents can look after the two boys.’  Danny had run out of excuses.

The tarred road stretched ahead running between fields of fruit trees.  A rusty railway line, used only at harvest time, faithfully followed every twist and turn of our journey until crossing in front of us and heading away in the direction of Port Elizabeth.  The road gave way to gravel at the next intersection and the rough stone surface rattled the vehicle to its core.  I depressed the accelerator and the speed smoothed the journey.  The dust from the un-tarred road plumed out behind us obscuring the view in the mirror.  After some fifteen minutes the entrance to the game reserve came into view on the left.  A uniformed guard with rifle in hand waved us down as we approached the barrier.  I wondered if he was protecting us from the animals or vice versa.  He directed us to the visitors car park where we sat and waited, taking in the panoramic sweep of countryside that lie before us.

The game reserve was a vast expanse of undergrowth stretching to the horizon.  We imagined the many species of game hidden from our view.  It was two years since we last visited Shamwari and we decided not to take the safari this time.  We knew our friends would enjoy the experience; they had never been abroad before.

After a short while they emerged from the reception lodge and with much talk of rhinos, elephants and giraffe we journeyed back to our hotel.  Jan’s face radiated the enjoyment she had experienced.  Even the cautious Danny was full of enthusiasm.  The sun slipped quickly below the horizon leaving the silhouette of blue gum trees against a violet skyline as we bumped across the neglected railway track and into the hotel car park.

Back in our room Sue phoned home to see how my mother was coping with our two teenage children.  Ben was eighteen, mature and sensible and enjoyed having his grandparents to spoil him, although much of the time he was away at university.  Jenny was the rebel.  Even at sixteen she was streetwise and knew exactly how to get her own way - especially with the many boyfriends who more recently vied for her attention.  She was also pleased to have grandma and granddad living in.  The house was large and would be eerie without adults around.  At least with her grandparents she could ignore them if it suited.

Keith, your mother wants a word.

Hi mum, how are you? How are you coping with the kids?  Oh, good, thanks for all you’re doing.  Yes mum.  Yes mum.  Yes mum.  Ok mum, don’t worry, I’ll open them when we get back, it’s only a couple of weeks.  Well three weeks then, who’s counting?  I’m sure they can wait ’till then, they’re only bills.  Ok mum, I will.  Bye."

We chose to eat al fresco that evening and being the last guests to dine we were soon on our own on the veranda with just the occasional visit from our waiter.  The warm air carried an aromatic scent from a nearby curry bush and the moon’s reflection played on the dark waters of the nearby pool.  Sue and Jan chatted eagerly of events and friends a world away in Hounslow and Portsmouth.  Danny was explaining why the lowest tender for the extension to the council offices had been declined.  I found myself listening to the girls’ conversation.

I always regarded Jan as the plainer of the two girls but as they approached their fortieth birthdays Jan’s auburn hair, lightly freckled skin and high cheekbones held a fascination the equal of Sue’s blue eyes and perfect olive skin.

As we sipped our coffee I reflected on the problems left behind in England.  Our friends regarded us as wealthy, with our many letting properties in Portsmouth and our magnificent country house near Petersfield.  Behind this lavish facade lurked the truth about our finances.  Out here in South Africa everything seemed perfect - the balmy summer evening, good food and wine, pleasant company and not a bank manager or accountant in sight.  Back home the mid-February frosts and dank grey skies held no attraction.  Minimum lending rate held stubbornly fixed at 15%.   Only apartheid and Nelson Mandela still in prison could be held against this beautiful country.  Neither of these problems affected me personally.

The clatter of crockery and cutlery emanated from the restaurant as the waiting staff laid up the remaining tables for breakfast.  I took one last sip of coffee and moved to the comfort of a padded leather sofa close by.  Sue and Danny were deep in conversation about a bank holiday weekend in Clacton which both attended before they knew each other.  Jan picked up her glass and the half empty bottle of Chardonnay and left the mods convention with talk of Lambretta’s, parkers and purple hearts and came over to where I was sitting.  She poured another glass of wine and chatted about the holiday so far.  The highlight was today’s visit to Shamwari.

Everything has been better than I expected, she said, Each day more exciting than the last.  I’m so pleased you insisted we came.

It’s great you decided to come, I said I was so tied up with business we hardly saw you and Danny back home.

Anyway we’ve plenty of time now, she said, You and Sue will be with us all day tomorrow. I just hope Addo and Scotia will be as much fun.

I’m sure it will, I said.

Keith? she said quietly, after a pause, Is there something bothering you.  You seem worried.  She put down her glass and laid her hand on my arm.

I’m fine I said. It’s just a few little problems that can wait ’till I get back.

Sue and Danny rose from the table and we all walked back to our rooms.  The night was clear and stars above shone bright.  The sky appeared much higher here than in England.  We said good night.  Jan, slightly tipsy, held me close and gently kissed my cheek.  I could feel her physical outline against my body long after she disappeared into her room.  I lay down in bed next to Sue, who was reading her book, and slowly drifted asleep with Jan still on my mind.

Chapter 2

A Close Encounter

A shaft of sunlight slipped past the edge of the timber-slatted blinds and cast its brightness on the clay tile floor to the side of the bed.  I sensed a new dawn had arrived, little did I realise how right I was.  Sue stirred at the far edge of the king size bed.  Her furrowed brow warned me of her hangover so I quietly rose and headed to the bathroom.

It was after 9am when Sue and I eventually went into breakfast.  Danny and Jan sat in the far corner, Danny with his head in a morning newspaper. There was an unusual buzz of eager gossip as we passed through the dining room.

Morning Keith said Danny, Have you heard the news, Nelson Mandela has been released.

The white 12-seat minibus pulled up outside the Lendaba Lodge Hotel.  Today we were off to the nearby Addo Elephant Park.  We climbed in and took four seats at the back.  Six other tourists from a nearby guest lodge were already seated.  Our guide introduced us to our fellow travellers and we set off.  The vehicle looked in good condition compared to most traffic frequenting the quiet dusty roads.  The lemon trees still held on to their fruit with some exceptions littering the scorched brown grass below.   Soon the fruit trees were replaced with bushveld made up mostly of spekboom as we travelled through the Sundays River Valley towards Addo.  Monkeys played in the low trees overhanging the high wire fencing of the park.

Once through the security gate we immediately encountered a huge bull elephant walking towards us on the road.  It obviously had the strength to turn our vehicle over with its huge tusks, but sidled past with only a slight turn of the head and a wave of the trunk.  Jan moved from one side of the vehicle to the other trying to capture the game on film.  Zebra, rhino, various species of antelope and even a cape buffalo all fell prey to her lens.  After three hours our guide had driven us through much of the twelve thousand hectares of bushveld and we made our way out and along to a nearby store serving snacks under a covered veranda.

We sat and waited for our food.  Jan and Danny busily wrote several postcards to children and friends.  Sue chatted to the guide asking him what we might see at the Scotia Game Reserve where we were heading next.  She returned to her seat when the food arrived.  She had been promised white rhino, crocodiles and a hippopotamus, not to mention a night drive hunting with lions.

Jan’s face lit up with the thought of being close to lions, then apprehension took over.

Will it be safe? she said.  Danny’s cautious nature took over.

Of course it will he said, The nearest you’ll get to a lion is through a pair of binoculars! They’d never let a wild animal like a lion come too close, anyway we’ll be safely inside a vehicle.

We all piled back in the minibus and set off for Scotia.  I gazed out of the window as we rattled along the uneven surface of the road, not taking in the view.  My mind was on the finances back home.  All Sue and I worked for over the past fifteen years was in jeopardy.  Less than two years ago our properties had been valued at over two million pounds.  We had borrowed heavily to buy our dream home, Ashton Manor.  Interest rates then were 7.5%, now they were double.  Was the biggest gamble I had ever made about to fail?  I had never known failure before.  Anything I ever wanted I had attained whether it was an investment property, car or even Sue; I had single-mindedly sought it and acquired it.  Was my winning streak about to end?

Suddenly the minibus slewed across the road, tyres squealing, brake linings locked against wheel drums.  I waited for the crash, but there was no impact.  I looked through the window and watched as a dozen guinea fowl scuttled across the road oblivious of their near death experience.  Sue picked herself up from the floor, Danny checked to make sure his binoculars were undamaged.  And Jan, where was Jan? She was leaning out of a side window camera in hand, guinea fowl in focus.

We pulled into the game reserve and followed the gravel road to the reception area.  Several 4x4 Land Rovers were lined up alongside in the car park. They were open topped and without sides with three rows of seats, each one higher than the row in front. Our guide directed us into reception where many other people were waiting patiently.  A very large man with unkempt hair and three weeks of beard, dressed in a camouflage suit, appeared in front of us.  He surveyed us like prey for a few moments.  A large scar on his forehead curved down across his right eye.  He told us, in a strong Afrikaans accent and in no uncertain terms, to remain on the Land Rover at all times.  If an animal should approach we should remain perfectly still and not wave our arms or make a sudden movement.  I looked round the room and saw several nervous faces including Jan’s.  We were then asked to sign a disclaimer stating we would not hold the reserve responsible for any accidents that might occur.  At this point I was feeling nervous!  I turned to Danny half expecting him to be checking his life insurance. 

Nothing to worry about he said I expect it’s all part of the experience, get the punters edgy, make us enjoy it more.  He had not convinced me, and I was pretty sure he was not convincing himself.

Outside, our guide beckoned us over to the nearest vehicle.  I helped Sue, and then Jan, up to the highest row of seats at the back then clambered up myself.  Danny sat in front of us.  Once everyone was on board we started off along a well rutted track.  The vehicle swayed violently from side to side and we had to take a tight grip on the bar in front of us.  The view across the bushveld from our vantage point was spectacular and it was not long before a herd of springbok bounded along nearby then veered off into the distance.  Suddenly the vehicle stopped.  The guide motioned towards some bushes on the left.  A slight rustling noise was followed by the arrival of a white rhino with a young calf.  They stopped to graze right next to the vehicle.  I could have stretched out and touched it, but that was the last thing I was about to do.  I remembered what was said at reception and froze.  My heart was pounding as the rhino’s horn hovered just two feet from my thigh.  Jan leaned across with camera in hand gently resting her body across my lap to get a close-up.  My heart pounded even faster in my chest, a strange mixture of fear and excitement surged through me.  Jan slowly lifted herself off my lap and sat up.

That’s one for the album, she said.  My! You look flushed Keith, I didn’t realise you were that nervous of animals.

Well it was a close encounter, I said, hoping she wouldn’t understand the double meaning.

Our next two sightings were less memorable.  We parked up next to a very muddy waterhole and were told a killer crocodile was resting in the murky waters.  It was nearly ten minutes before our guide excitedly pointed to some minor ripples on the surface.  Several people said they saw the end of his snout break the surface of the water.  I could have created more excitement with a small pebble.  After another bumpy ride along the well-rutted track we came to another watering hole.  In the centre a small shape appeared to float on the surface.  Jan reached for the binoculars and lifted them from around Danny’s neck.

Wow! she exclaimed.  The small shape in the middle of the pond with two bumps on it contained the eyes of an ever watching hippopotamus staring straight back at her.

We continued on and saw several types of antelope, mainly in the distance.   They appeared skittish and turned tail whenever we approached too near.  We drove up a steep slope and just after we reached the crest the Land Rover stopped, and then slowly edged back a few metres.  Some way off, under the shade of a small group of low trees a large lion with his lioness and two cubs lay motionless on the scorched grass.  After a few minutes our guide drove forward then turned off the track through a gap in the spekboom.  He slowly made his way around until we were the other side of the small pride of lions.  We approached much closer until we were within about thirty metres of the large cats.  The male lion sensed our presence and lazily rose up to a sitting position.  Our guide stopped the slow movement of the vehicle.  Cameras clicked and whirred as the male lifted himself on to all paws and slowly padded around in a small circle before giving a long yawn and slowly settled back on the dry grass.

That was scary, said Danny sarcastically I thought I was going to lose a leg for a moment.  Jan stuck a well-deserved finger in his ribs and told him to shut up.

A short drive later a large thatch covered arena came into view.  We dismounted from our raised seats and followed our guide into the lapa for refreshments.

Chapter 3

A Shoulder to Lean On

When we emerged the sun was slipping below the distant trees and long shadows streaked the gravel car park.  Our guide was handing out green canvas ponchos.  A pile of badly folded blankets lay on the seat next to his in the cab.  We reclaimed our seats and set off along the dry clay track.  A vehicle some distance in front was leaving a long plume of dust that rose up then dissipated without trace.  As the sun dipped below the horizon a chill filled the air and several people slipped the ponchos over their heads and laid blankets over their knees.  In a few minutes the sky darkened and the powerful main beams of the headlights cut through the blackness revealing flashes of bush and tree on both sides of the road as we bumped our way onwards.  My hands cramped as I gripped tight to the bar in front of me.  I looked round and all I could see was the far distant lights of two following vehicles.

The Land Rover in front of us turned off the road and slowly drove across a flat area of plain with only the occasional bush showing in the headlights.  We followed cautiously at a distance.  The vehicle ahead stopped and we pulled over to one side.  A small group of springbok slowly passed through the beams of the headlights ahead of us.  In the far distance I could see some specks of light flickering and moving close to the ground.  Our guide turned on a searchlight on top of the roof which he controlled from underneath in the cab.  He swung the beam in the direction of the lights and we immediately saw the shapes of large cats, their eyes glinting back at us.  The buck moved slowly, grazing as they went, unaware of the imminent danger behind them.  The lions approached, pausing then moving sideways until we were directly between the receding buck and the oncoming cats.  The animals appeared totally oblivious of the floodlights from the nearby vehicles tracking their every move.  Danny reminded us all to keep still.  Jan told him to move his head so she could capture the approaching lion on film as it slowly padded towards us.

The thought suddenly struck me that this killing machine, now just a few feet away had the choice to either spend much time and effort chasing some spindly little springbok or just reaching up and helping itself to a nice juicy overweight carnivorous snack from off the shelf.  For what seemed an age the lions slowly passed by our vehicle and into the distance with hardly a sideways glance while we looked on in fear and fascination.

We drove back in total darkness except for the waving beams from the headlights dancing on the passing undergrowth.  The lapa was a welcoming sight with a huge bonfire in the centre and large pots of what looked like stew simmering on the flames with aromatic flavours filling the night air.  The African supper around the campfire was called a ‘Potjie Kos’.  The various guides acted as waiters.  We sat at very large picnic benches, which formed an outer ring around the roaring fire.  Each bench could seat six each side with ease.  The meal was soon passed around.  We washed it down with some cheap local wine that tasted extremely nice.  Sue positioned herself next to our guide when he finished serving the meal and was soon deep in conversation, finding him apparently more interesting than the paperbacks she normally immersed herself in.

Danny sat quietly through most of the meal then, turning towards me, said,

Quite something those lions.  I’ve never been that close to a wild animal, except when Jan loses her temper.  I’m glad we weren’t on their menu this evening!  Joking apart I think today was really great.  The last two weeks have just flown by.  It’s sad to think we have to go back the day after tomorrow.