-Epilogue-
“You look terrible,” said Billy. “Sit down. Here’s the menu, get something to eat.”
“Thanks,” said Ollie, and taking the menu from Billy told them. “I’ve been sleeping in my car and haven’t eaten for two days. I could eat the arse off a low-flying crow.”
Ollie sat down next to Susan, who put her hand over her nose and John furrowed his brow and wafted the air.
“Yeah, sorry I smell; I haven’t washed for weeks,” he said, sounding embarrassed as he looked at the menu.
Billy gave him £20 so he went to the counter and bought a plate with a large golden battered fish, thick chips, and mushy peas back to the table and sat.
“We hadn't heard from you for a while and thought you’d given up until you called yesterday,” said Billy.
“Sorry, but I had to save the credit on my phone for emergencies,” said Ollie and then ate a forkful of the crisp juicy fish.
“What about the camcorder, did you get it?” asked John, glaring at Ollie.
Ollie shook his head and mumbled.
John looked unimpressed and sounding angry said, “So you still have nothing. Why did you get Numan to call and tell me to come to Cleethorpes? He said you have conclusive proof.”
Ollie swallowed the fish, smiled, and told them. “I have, but not the camcorder. I waited for days outside Doctor Fossdyke’s practice but never saw her, only her husband who left early one morning several days ago and return with her later that day. I felt unsure about what to do until I read this in the local newspaper dumped in a bin.”
He took out a stained copy of the Grimsby Evening Telegraph and showed them the feature about Steve dying in Thailand and they read how Lucy went there to bring home his body and his three elderly friends.
Billy looked at the headline, gasped, and said. “Strat’s dead!”
“Yes,” said Ollie, and showed them another copy of a torn off newspaper clipping dated the following day and said. “Read that.”
Billy read aloud the next piece, “The funeral will be a private service at Cleethorpes cemetery. Kipper, Mr Fossils, was due to attend and Mr Baker’s family hope his fans and the media respect their privacy.”
Ollie smiled and said. “So I went to the funeral, and the party afterwards at the Wellow. Charles, the one they call Nobby, saw me and I think he recognised me, so I made a quick exit.
I took photographs from my car of people leaving and then went back later.”
Ollie pulled out a file and showed them photos of Strat’s funeral and the party. He showed them photographs of Steve’s tombstone, the guitar in the Wellow, the remaining Fossils, and Fossdyke.
“This is just more garbage, it proves nothing,” fumed John.
Ollie smiled, nodded, and told them. “I know but that’s only further proof you might find useful after you see this. He put an iPhone on the table and said, “It took a while to come across and it cost me my last £800. Anyhow, I got this a few days ago.”
“You paid £800 for an old iPhone, which can’t be worth more than £100. They saw you coming,” said John and chuckled.
Ollie ignored him and said. “I realised that if the Doctor had footage of the Fossils performing at Fossdke, I presumed there must be someone else at the Wellow with similar footage, and I was right.
Ollie forked another chunk of fish into his mouth, pointed the fork at the iPhone, and with his mouth full, mumbled, “I’ve set it up. Note the date and press play.”
John did as instructed and while Ollie stuffed more food into his mouth, the three watched footage showing Fossils playing tracks from Hope at the Wellow, and then later footage at the Wellow with the sound erupting when they won the national competition.
John gasped and then smiled. He looked at the three and sounding excited said. “Do you realise the ramifications of this? Providing we can prove your claim that BBC and Virgin lawyers knew about this without involving you Billy, Channel 4 can cause them irreparable damage. They can’t hide this.”
“And that bastard Nutley will get his comeuppance,” said Billy and sneered, “We can nail his lying arse to the wall.”
“Great,” said Ollie. “You will get your revenge on Kipper. John can destroy the BBC and Virgin, and I will get loads of money,” said Ollie grinning.
They looked at each other and laughed.
“Right, champagne,” announced John. “We will go into town and I’ll book us all into a hotel. You can clean up Ollie and we can have a night out. I need to organise a camera crew to come here so I can film what we need in Cleethorpes, compile a story around the facts and, once it’s broadcast, we can and watch the shit hit the fan. Well done Ollie.”
Ollie smiled and continued eating while the others talked twaddle like Scouse job seekers until Ollie scraped his plate clean and asked. “So what’s this worth to Channel 4?”
John smiled and then made a phone call.
“What’s the matter, Billy, you look worried,” said Susan. “John said the story wouldn't implicate us.”
Billy tapped his spoon against his saucer and sighed. “That’s not what’s bothering me.”
“What is it then?” asked Susan.
Ollie smiled at John as he heard him speaking to the head of Channel 4 programming for Dispatches and ignored Susan and Billy when he heard figures mentioned.
“Right,” said John after finishing his conversation. “A camera crew will be here tomorrow.”
He smiled at Ollie and said, “I can offer you £60,000 for the information you’ve provided. Plus, a ten-year contract with Channel 4 as an investigative journalist for Dispatches. Your salary will start at £150,000 per year plus bonuses. You will travel the world with all expenses paid and stay in top hotels. That’s how I started and you’ll love it.”
Ollie, although disappointed with the amount for his hard work, knew that a ten-year contract would open up endless possibilities. He would no longer have to chase work and have a regular pay cheque.
He smiled and handed the iPhone and paperwork to John.
John shook his hand, gave him £1000 cash, and said, “The rest we can sort out when we get back to London, but that should keep you going for now.” He stood and said. “Let’s go.”
Billy looked glum and interrupted. “There’s something we haven’t factored into the equation.”
“What?” asked John, sitting back down. He frowned and looked puzzled. “It’s perfect and we all come out on top. I thought you’d be pleased.”
Billy sighed and said, “It won’t work.”
“Of course it will work, it's foolproof and 100% guaranteed,” said John, now looking concerned.
Billy looked at the three and sounding sullen, said. “Perhaps it would have, but we have all forgotten one important thing.”
“And what’s that?” asked Susan puckering her brow.
The three glared at Billy, who sighed, shook his head, and said. “It will only work if that little shit Webster writes a sequel.”
THE END
I hope you enjoyed Fossils. Reviews are important to independent authors. If you would be kind enough to write a review on any online retailer’s sites, I would be extremely grateful and possibly share my chocolate with you… possibly.
In the unlikely event that you didn’t enjoy Fossils, please write bad reviews under my pen name, Charles Dickens… he won’t mind.
Please enjoy the sequel : The Gobs – Fossils 2 - Return of the Wrinkled Rockers