THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 1... Part 1.

CHAPTER ONE.

THE OPENING.

His office was a pile of crumpled paper, some unfinished charts and a scruffy armchair to go with the desk.
"Hi, Alexo." I said, pulling up an equally scruffy chair to face him.
In silence we studied each other. Except for the greying tinge in his hair, he hadn’t changed. We had known each other since childhood. He had always been the clever one, I the stooge, always falling in line with his schemes and forever paying the price. I smiled. Those days were long gone. Now I was very much the master of my soul. I had not heard a word from Alexo, not for over two years until a hand-written note with his name and this address had been thrust through my letter-box. And here I was.
"Glad you could make it, dear boy. Sit down, sit and make yourself comfortable."
I sat, cautiously silent. His real name was Brian Dobbins but from our first time of meeting, he insisted I call him Alexo.
"Glad you could make it." he said again, rubbing soft hands together, gazing at me through watery blue eyes.
"So what gives?" I asked.
Before Alexo could reply, a telephone shrilled out in fierce emergency from somewhere beneath the piles of paper on the desk. Holding one bony hand up to halt further conversation, his other hand dived beneath the mass of paper to retrieve a grubby grey phone. It somehow reminded me of a dirty grey slug emerging from some rumpled undergrowth. Alexo put the slug to his ear.
"Astromates. Alexo speaking. How may I help you?"
His voice had undergone some dramatic change, effeminately higher, oozing out like mud between a child’s fingers, slippery and gushing. If only the hot-water tap in my bathroom gushed water out like that, I’d be a happy man!
"Amamda? Is that you, my dear?"
A wailing voice tinned itself out from the ear-piece.
"Oh no. Oh, my gosh. How dreadfully awful!"
Alexo's voice had risen another notch, falsetto now, his free hand hanging out in a limp-wristed manner. Now I know Alexo wasn’t gay. I knew of old that cunning, womanising, mind and his lecherous tastes. Watching and listening to him right now, I found it extremely hard not to reach out and rap the knuckles of the limp hand. Again, the crackling voice echoed out while Alexo listened with sad attention.
"It’s such a shame, Mandy dear." he sympathised when the crackling stopped. "But some things are not meant to be. Such a shame. This time I really thought things would be alright, the charts were such a good match."
More of the crackling voice. More sad attention.
"Do you know what I think, Mandy?" Alexo began with hopeful explanation. "I think, what with you being a Cancer lady, a Moon-Maiden ( God! That must have got old Mandy’s juices flowing, whoever she was! )… And with Anthony being a Piscean, well perhaps there was too much emotion going on in the relationship. I mean, what with you both being Water-Signs, it was bound to end up in a flood of tears."
Crikey! I could have filled three baths full of water and still had enough left over for a few buckets!
"What! You found out he was married!"
Alexo picked up a piece of paper from the desk, making out to study it, rustling it close to the ear-piece before saying... "I’m just looking at his file right now. He’s down here as being divorced. I’ll cross him off my list right now!"
The crackling rose to a crescendo so that Alexo held the phone away from his ear.
"Deary, deary me." he kept saying.
Fascinated, I listened unashamedly to the conversation between the crackling wail and the sycophantic clucking of Alexos’ tongue.
"Please Mandy, dry your eyes, there’s an angel." Alexos’ eyes, which had been turned heavenwards, now aligned themselves to my face, the sadness leaving as an expression of inspiration took its place.
"Listen Mandy dear, it just happens that I have here on my desk a Birth-Chart of a perfect gentleman, a Mr. Richard Kimble. He’s a Scorpio, a real charmer."
You know when something weird but not wonderful is about to happen, when the hairs on the back of your neck start to rise? Well that was happening to me as I returned Alexos’ gaze. Perhaps it was just me, my imagination playing tricks on me. Perhaps Alexo just wanted some privacy. The limp hand waved me down as I started to rise. I sat.
"Yes of course, my angel. Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do, give me time to check Richards’ chart against yours and once they are proven suitable I will set up a meeting with you both."
Alexo listened to the squeal of delight before continuing… "And do you realise there’s a New Moon due this coming Tuesday. It’s a time for new beginnings for you in your area of relationships, a time to plant some new seeds. So don’t fret until you hear from me, Mandy love. Oh and don’t forget to wear that silver cross-and-chain you bought from me… Ever so lucky, you know."
I listened to him honeysuckle some more sweet nothings into the phone before he put it down, the grey slug sliding itself back under the rustling undergrowth. Now, I’ve heard some rubbish in my time, especially since I’d been tied to Alexo from childhood but what I’d just listened to really took the biscuit!
"That conversation sounded even worse than the rubbish you used when you ran that scam as founder of the Church Of The Redeeming Christ, remember?"
Alexo made a non-committal gesture.
"Well, what happened to that little ploy?" I asked.
"Shirt-buttons." he answered.
"What? No money in it?"
"That’s what the bloody congregation put in the collection-box, Bloody shirt-buttons!"
His voice had gained normality.
"Anyway." I said, coming back to the point. "Who is Richard Kimble? Isn’t he the doctor from that old television program ‘The Fugitive’ which used to be on years ago?"
Alexo looked me right in the eyes.
"No old chap. You are Richard Kimble."
Now, there have been times in my life when I’ve sat bolt upright in shock but this time I swear the back of my neck was beating the top of my head!
"Good-day and good-bye." I said, rising to my feet.
Alexo was round the desk to my side in a flash, his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Please, don’t be so hasty, old chap.", he begged, now trying to push me back down on the seat. "Just relax and listen to what I have to say before you make any decisions. Just relax.".
"Relax, Brian! Relax!" I shrieked, standing, shoving his hands down.
His watery blue eyes moistened even more, reflecting the hurt and sadness. Damn those hound-dog eyes! Immediately, I felt sorry for my outburst.
"I’m sorry Alexo.", I said.
He had regained his seat, the pain in his eyes softening into forgiveness.
"You know I hate that name (He mouthed the name ‘Brian’.)… I’m Alexo, always have been.".
"Fine by me Alex. But you’ll never get me to join in any of your scams to con people, especially when it comes to defrauding women.".
There was that look of pain again.
"Moi?". He pointed a finger at himself. "Would I ever ask you to do anything underhand or against the law?".
Oh, the joy of a short memory! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!
"What about that time when I nearly ended up in Pentonville Prison for fiddling your tax-bills?", I exploded.
Alexo held up a hand, making shushing noises, like a mother who comforts a child woken from some terrifying nightmare.
"Just listen to me for one minute, then you can make whatever judgement your conscience allows. Do you agree?".
I sat, considering my options. I could either (A) get up from the chair and walk away from this aging madman, or (B) sit and listen to what he had to say before laughing like a drain, then walk out of his life forever. I considered, at least option (B) would kill a bit more time of my wasted day.
"Go on then. Talk.".
Alexo leaned over the desk, arms pushing down on the mess of paper, eyes glistening. He made me wait, eyes on mine. Then…
"How would you like to spend some time with twelve different women? Wine and dine them, all expenses paid by yours truly?".
I sat in stunned silence, my mouth opened and closed but no sound came out from it. My mind cried out… ‘No, no: don’t listen!’. The plea fell on deaf ears. Had I heard him correctly, I asked myself. Was being near him freaking me out?
Alexo waited, then busied himself by collecting up all the scattered papers on his desk and leaving them in a pile on one side. Rescuing the grey slug, he took it off the hook and placed it on top of the stacked paper. My mind was still trying to make sense of his offer. He smiled secretly as he heaved his chair back and bent down to lift up an old battered Underwood typewriter which he thumped down on the desk. My mouth still goldfished in silence, opening and closing.
"Well, for Gods’ sake say something, even if it’s sod off! Don’t just sit there with a ‘Cods’ mouth. Are you up for it?".
Up for it! I was down its throat and ripping its guts out!
Then my mature brain kicked in… ‘Whoa boy’, it said. ‘Slow down, take it easy. It was Alexo talking, Alexo suggesting I, who had not had a bunk-up in ages, am to be given the chance to be with a dozen lively wenches, all-expenses paid, meals and booze thrown in, gratis. I have found out, as I wizened with age, that my mature brain talks a lot more sense, it questions.
"Catch?", I demanded.
"No catch, old chap.", replied Alexo. He had his eyes down, studious as he tapped away, one finger at a time on the old typewriter.
I considered. My mature mind wanted more answers. However, my nether regions began to explore the possibilities.
Now I know I’m not ugly, I was once described as being rather suitable in a hand-me-down Hugh Grant sort of way. However, I did suffer from a fear of rejection which rather stopped me from approaching the fairer sex, that and having no job, cash or car.
"So where do these twelve ladies come from?", something made my mouth ask.
Alexo always wore that secret smile when he knew he’d hooked a fish. He smiled, stopped typing and looked up. He really did have a ‘Grandma, what big eyes you have’ look about him, as if I was a rabbit in front of a large snake. ‘Well’, I told my mature brain, ‘I only ask out of interest’.
"I will supply them, one by lovely one, plus the cash to take them out. Now, how does that sound?".
"Too bleeding good to be true.", I answered.
Alexo tutted at my disbelief, put his hands together and placed them to his lips as he slowly shook his head. My mature brain was screaming at me… ‘Get out! Get out now, while you can!’. My nether regions argued the case, winning and causing me to stay.
"You know Alexo.", I said. "I never had much luck with women. I haven’t had a proper date since the time you fixed me up with that tall thing, d’you remember?".
Alexo admitted he didn’t remember. Of course he wouldn’t. He had fixed me up with a transvestite and I had not realised it was a she-male till my hands told me otherwise!
"Women just don’t seem to like me that much.", I said, moodily.
"How many times have I told you, looks aren’t everything, old bean. You only need to know ladies want entertaining; they need someone who can take their minds off the daily drudgeries life throws at them. Let’s face it, you only have to make them laugh.".
"Hah!", I exclaimed. "You got that line from the old Michael Caine film, ‘Alfie’, that’s what he said!".
"Micheal Caine? Alfie? He never made any of his women laugh in the film, not even a chuckle. In fact, he bored the knickers off them.".
Alexo had got quite indignant to think I would suggest he had stolen someone else’s lines. Fixing me with a glare, he soldiered on… "When I say laugh, dear boy, I mean really laugh.".
He softened his voice.
"Look at it this way." he said. "A smile is worth a love-bite. A giggle equals a French-kiss but a full belly-laugh empties a whole packet of condoms!".
I was an idiot, he was reeling me in with a giant fishing hook, with chat as the bait. All I could see was naked women, shrieking with laughter. I could see it, me taken for a ride but I was beyond caring, the brains in my trousers urging me on.