Liz and I married in a Registry Office in Muswell Hill. Keith Bellingham the best man and Madeline and Sarah Bellingham(their beautiful baby daughter) the ‘bridesmaids’. Liz’s Mum (her parents had recently separated) my Mum and dad made up the congregation. The registrar had a squint and I nearly burst out laughing as I ‘played’ with him as he asked me the various questions. It was super low key affair but I never had a single doubt I was doing the right thing. I hope Liz felt that way too. We returned home to our flat and the following morning we headed off to Greece for our ‘honeymoon’. Perhaps a little unusually Peter and Karen Borriello came too!!. We had a great time as it happens although we were to learn that on a ‘day to day’ basis the two B’s were not as harmonious as we thought. Sadly Karen got fed up of Peters’ ways and she left him not long afterwards.
My job on The Stock Exchange floor had moved up several cogs. I became very good at what I did if truth be told. I would get invites to boardroom lunches hosted by broking firms in order to provide a ‘market perspective’ for the chosen fund manager fellow guests. My knowledge of the sector was by this time encyclopaedic and I found myself opining on the relative values of the various companies I was trading in. It proved very popular especially with one firm called Kitcat and Aitken who enjoyed the status of ‘second rank’ in the official top ten of firms who covered the sector.
A fearful row broke out at Pinchin with me in the middle. Roger Wellesley Smith who ran the leader book, (the nations leading companies of the time Glaxo, ICI etc), had requested my promotion to his number two. It was a huge compliment to me as it suggested that a partnership in the form would soon follow and I had been identified as being ‘special’. Colin Fairburn said ‘no’ I was too valuable for him to loose. I was bang in the middle. Fairbairn was very unpleasant to work for although I was spared the majority of his bad behaviour and the idea of such a promotion was truly exciting. It was desperate and if truth be told I became very depressed as the stress internalised in me coupled with frustration and anger. I probably drank to much too as Bellingham was there to encourage me in the evenings and at weekends.
One day out of the blue a partner of Kitkat and Aitken took me to lunch. ‘Dennis’ he said ‘we are very keen to offer you a job advising fund managers on their approach and policy to The Shipping and Transport sector. We will pay you well and if you succeed, as we are certain you will, a partnership will come for way and with that riches!’. OMG.
Maybe because of all the stress Liz and I had begun to feel hemmed in in our one bedroomed flat. We had saved some money and the indications were the value of our property had appreciated. One weekend we found our selves in Barnet. I knew the place courtesy of one visit with The Finchley Club to play their local rivals Barnet. Barnet RFC were the complete opposite of Finchey. A hugely charismatic President,a smart kit and an attitude of the membership to all comers of fair play and fun. I was not playing rugby because of my shoulder but we decided to look round an odd looking detached house in a largely terraced street-800 meters or so from Barnet Rugby Club. The Club itself was right on the edge of London so motorways and the like were close at hand. I am not sure if I mentioned the locality of the rugby club to Liz but we both liked the pub on the corner of the street The Seabright Arms. The house needs a complete redo. We both thought we saw an opportunity. We sold our flat for £29999 doubling our money and we replaced it with our house for some £50 less.
We worked tirelessly for the next is months. Painting, plumbing, we even fitted a kitchen. Liz went on an upholstery course and proved she had huge talent. She would source old chairs from junk shops and recover them. We still have one today and it is superb. I made a sofa frame and Liz covered it. Our bible was The Readers digest DIY manual-it was well thumbed!
I was battling hard against my confusion at work. Kitkat would regularly ask me if I had changed my mind. One day another worm turned. The number one firm in the sector was Laurence Prust and its ‘star’ analyst was a man called Dan White. He had the ear of most company management he followed and he was considered to be amongst the best analysts of his era according to a series of surveys.
I was playing for The annual match against The HAC before a lively crowd a year or so before. Dan had come to support the Stock Exchange hooker who worked for his firm and was a good friend of mine Ian Thomas.( at this point I only knew Dan by his reputation). Now for some reason I always referred to Ian as ‘Thomson’ and he to me as ‘Ellis’. Countless people would try to put us right. Hie name is ‘Thomas’ they would say yes I know I would say, ‘Thompson’. Ian would reciprocate similarly with the ‘Elliott Ellis’ line. Silly but fun. Any way there we were and I hoisted a steepling up an under and gave chase and saw ‘Thomson’ out of the corner of my eye. ‘Lets go Thomson’ I roared ‘with you Ellis’ he retorted. the full back caught the ball and us two as well. I got up grinning and trotted off but Ian was lying on the ground holding his head. After the match he complained of blurred vision and we agreed a precautionary hospital visit was on the cards. Ian asked me if I would mind going to the pub where he had agreed to meet his work colleagues and explain what was what. Unfortunately Ian had detached a retina, courtesy of my elbow, and this was to be his last ever game of rugby. I walked into a bar a bit later on and met Mr Big , Dan White. We had a lot to drink and I am afraid I may have been bit cocky as I decided to give Dan my advice on shipping shares.
The whole episode played out as one day a year or so later I was sitting o my ‘pitch’ feeling very low. It was lunchtime and the market was dead. One of Dan’s fellow partners got talking to me and he ready noticed I was unhappy and he offered a sort of fatherly approach his name was Robert Bruce. It was good to unburden to someone like him and I told him about my blocked promotion, the stress it had caused me and the job offer from a rival firm of his. He did not hang around long which I found quite strange. I regretted opening my mouth too although could not see any negative implication.
I returned home to Seabright Road that evening nd probably painted a wall. The next day was to be a remarkable one, around 11 am my ‘outside line’ rang. This was a secret number and only released via our switchboard to ‘special’ people. It would often signal a press reporter or similar looking for a scoop so I took the call with some reticense. ‘Dan White here Dennis’ I wonder of you would like to join me for lunch?.
Dan was keen to add me to his team. He offered me a job at twice my existing salary with the promise of a bonus too such that I would be taking home a significant sum of high teens of thousands of pounds. He was ‘the man’ so my chance of success was high and the prospect of partnership in short order was dangled. The decision was easy and much like my old mentor Tiger had advised me many years ago, ‘ in life three decisions should always be ‘no brainers’ choosing a woman to be your wife, buying a house and changing jobs’ I have followed that advice to the letter and when I have strayed even the slightest bit from its message (usually in buying houses) I have found the advice to be absolutely cast iron. I gave in my notice at Pinchin, Fairborn was unfortunately an arsehole and he made me serve my contractual 6 months notice. I should have just walked out because despite making a life changing decision I was still very stressed and unhappy courtesy of the treatment I received. It was a very long six months.
Tales of a Life Well Lived 