"HE WHO RIDES A TIGER" Chief petty office Peter Thompson the upstanding, charming gent hides a secret, he is an abuser of children. How long can he evade the law. one young girl, his daughter finds the courage to come forward to tell all after years of torment.. based on a true story. "A must read"


53. 53

 Walking down Edgeware Road to the tube station at five a.m. in the morning was not Brian Thompson’s idea of fun he purchased a ticket to Piccadilly then headed to the underground platform. Many city people were waiting, some were reading The Times newspaper as they stood on the platform waiting to get on. Brian couldn’t believe how immaculately dressed they all were. He was wearing a £25.00 suit and a cheap tie. The best thing he was wearing was his leather Oxford shoes that had been polished to a high shine. He carried no briefcase, no cashmere overcoat or umbrella. The draft of cold air from the tunnel increased as the train headed towards the station. It was ten minutes late.

Brian saw all the people edging forward to get on first so he pushed his way to the front. He got some stares from toffee nosed men who thought it their right to get on first but at six feet five and over two hundred pounds no one in their right mind would argue with him. The train came to a halt and Brian got on and beat a man to get a seat. He smiled to himself knowing that the man in the posh suit had to stand. The train moved off six minutes later. He looked at his watch it was now twenty minutes to six he had only twenty minutes to make it to the offices of Big City Trading Company. Malcolm had told him that it wasn’t far from Regent Street once he got off the train at Piccadilly Circus. He found himself counting each stop because he could see past the crowd of people or hear the announcements. He read his instructions Malcolm gave him again. It was five stops. After the fourth he got up and got his way to the door. His seat was immediately taken by someone else. When the train came to a halt the doors opened and it was like a greyhound race as people began to run to the exits. He followed suit and then got to the escalator he like the others walked slowly up to the top as it was moving in order to get a head start on the busy streets.

In the tunnel before the exit a man played jazz on a saxophone, Brian ignored him and made his way up onto the street. The instructions told him to turn right and to look out for Hollister’s Co. It was a good ten- minute walk and he was reluctant to stop and ask for directions because it would make him late. He followed the steady flow of people trying desperately to get ahead. He spotted the office ahead of him and forced his way through the sea of people. He crossed the road avoiding hackney cabs and buses then walked through the revolving door. He took the lift to the 30th floor then looked-for Malcolm’s office. When he found it, he knocked then went in.

Brian was met by a frog eyed man in a white shirt and silk tie.

“Mr. Thompson so good of you to join us. I expect all my staff to be here fifteen minutes before six each morning understood?

“I’m sorry but…

“There are no excuses here Mr. Thompson, we hold a meeting in the boardroom every morning at precisely 6 a.m. I expect all my team to be here.’

“I can only apologise, it shall not happen again.’

“Good.’ My name is Forest Witherspoon, I run things here for Mr. Moore. He has briefed me about you and says you have the drive to become a city trader is that correct?

Yes,’ I hope to learn all there is to learn in this business.’

The system is simple, you have to know when to buy stock and when to sell. We cannot afford to lose money here so be extremely careful before buying stock. Try and build yourself a portfolio of customers as quickly as possible. I would suggest you read the Financial Times and clue yourself up on what’s hot in the world of trade and what is not. Keep a watch on the screens for movement of stock. The blue lights tell you when stock is going down the red lights tell you when stock is going up. Again, be extremely careful how many shares you buy. You can play the percentages by buying long in the hope that stock rises or you can sell short hoping that stock drops. The name of the game is to make money. Do you think you can do that Mr. Thompson?

“I would not be here Mr. Witherspoon if I thought that I couldn’t make money.’

No one comes in here and makes money overnight so forget the fast cars, glamourous women, and the champagne parties. It just doesn’t happen unless you have an exceptional talent for making money. I have worked with many young bucks like you who think this job is all glitz and glam. They burn themselves out in less than six months. They are either fired or they resign.

“It takes balls of steel to work here, you have to be totally ruthless.’

There is no sentiment in business as you will discover.’

“Come with me and I will introduce you to the rest of the team. I stress that we are a team here because we all work together to make money. If you lose money so do they and they won’t be happy if you do. You only get a bonus if you make money.’

“I will start you off with ten thousand pounds of Mr. Moore’s cash. Let’s see how much money you can make from it.’

Sitting in the small room with six chairs and a large table. Each table had a screen with the current prices of oil, gold, wheat, and sugar beet, in fact everything you could think of in the world trade market. Brian looked around the room and saw the men and one woman that he’d be working with. The person sitting next to him was called Robert Thornton a 53-year-old ex- parachute regiment major. He quickly shook Brian’s hand then his eyes went straight back to the screen. Directly opposite him was former English teacher Lillian Bridgett who was the youngest member of the group that he had been introduced to. She was attractive looking with long brown hair that was held off her face with a clip.  Next to her was Desmond Thomas a 42-year-old former shop keeper who sold bathrooms. Johnathan Creel sat next to him he looked a lot older than his forty years suggested, he was rapidly going bald the centre of his head which had just a few wispy strands of hair. Brian felt totally over- dressed even in his cheap suit.  He took off his jacket and tie then folded it and placed it inside his pocket then hung it up on a coat hook on the wall and undid the button on his new shirt. Sam Craig sat on the end he was the oldest member of the group at 63 years of age. He was a former insurance man who had been given the opportunity to prove himself as a trader. He had only been with the firm for two weeks and so far, he’d lost over two thousand pounds.

Pressure was now on him to make money.

Sam had been called in already to see the manager Forest Witherspoon who told him in no uncertain terms that if he continued to lose money at the rate he was going, he’d be out. The old man sat there wiping sweat from his forehead and chewing on his pencil as he studied the screen.

Brian looked at the screen for a long time watching how the stocks rose and fell by the minute. He picked up the financial times and began to read it in the hope that it would inspire him to make his first deal. It didn’t. all through lunch, not that any of them had eaten and way into the afternoon Brian sat there just staring at the screen like the rest of them. He now knew how Sam Craig felt and by 4 p.m. the American market opened and Robert Thornton picked up the phone. “Hello, Robert here from Big City. I am looking at Gant Oil Co. Yes,’ I’d like to buy four hundred shares long and sell 200 hundred Integrated Oil shares short. Thanks.’ The phone was smartly put down with everyone looking at Robert as he filled out a small piece of notepaper with how many shares he’d bought and how many he’d sold. He placed it into a machine on the wall and it stamped it then he calmly walked into Forest Witherspoon’s office and placed the memo on the metal spike. There were only three so far today. The pressure was now on the rest to perform.

Brian was not looking at oil, he was watching the fall of gas shares. He quickly picked up the phone and introduced himself then said “I’m looking at Baker Hughes, could I buy 500 long please and sell 300 Cairn short.

You could see the others watching as Brian filled out his memo chit and then placed it in the machine. He walked into Forests office and gave him the memo. Forest looked at it then raised his eyebrows. I hope that your hunch is right he said as Brian turned then returned to his desk and sat down. It had taken him over ten hours to make his first deal. Now he had to wait to see How the market went. If Cain Gas went up he would make at least five hundred pounds.

After ten minutes Cain Gas continued to fall.

He was wondering if he should ring and cut his losses, He was patient and sat on his hands. Looking around the room he saw Sam Craig pick up the phone and then return it back into its cradle. He’s lost it thought Brian. When someone takes a beating on the stock market the confidence just drains away from you like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Sam was physically shriveling up in front of everyone. Lillian Bridgett made her first deal of the day buying 200 OPEC Crude Oil Shares and selling 100 Crude Frost. Sam Craig was now rubbing his forehead he read the same passage in the Financial Times several times.

The balding Johnathan Creel was next, he bought shares in Dow Jones and sold RBS shares.

The phone rang in Forests office and It was Malcolm Moore on the phone asking how everyone was doing. Brian heard the word Sam and knew that they were discussing his progress.

“He hasn’t done a deal today Mal, I don’t know if he is going to be strong enough to hold out.’

“Give him until tomorrow afternoon, if he hasn’t done a deal by then we are going to have to let him go. He’s lost two grand of my money.’

“Okay,’ I’ll have a word with him now. Yes, I will, bye.’

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