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CH. 15

The Changed Life by Gerry Taylor



Chapter 15 – Quick changes



I moved to my new home the Aloe Palace within a week

determined to put my stamp on it. I had two modern

windmills installed one at the deep well so as to pump

all the water needed for the Palace and the grounds.

Although there was a natural flow to the water, it did

appear that the water extracted, no matter how much, was

replaced rather quickly. I had an engineer come to

install both and to calculate the rate and flow of water

to tell me how much irrigation the flow would cover in

this climate.



I was surprised to learn the a simple small – to my mind

– flow of water twenty four hours a day would suffice

for almost twenty acres. The second windmill at the far

corner of the grounds of the Palace was to boost the

electric current in the storage cells in the outhouse.



I also had solar panels installed on the roofs of all

buildings other than the Palace itself to boost the

supply of electricity and I was planning to create a

reservoir so as to be able to irrigate all the fields.

In this part of the world, water is simply the most

important of natural assets, well maybe, after the

world’s fourth largest reserves of oil and the fifth

largest reserves in gas.



It gave me a great deal of personal pleasure to

rearrange matters to my own taste in both the Palace

itself and in the slave quarters, where I made some

adjustments which later would come in handy for ensuring

the obedience and servitude of the slaves. While I am

not a sadist, I do believe that it is best to stop a

matter quickly, if severely, and nip it in the bud

before it got out of control.



I put Yuriy, Jiri and Ross at the disposal of Aziz to

get the Palace in order. Ross was shocked when he

finally realised that he had not been ‘rescued’ by me,

but that he had actually been bought and was now my

slave, would wear the slave ankle bracelet and was there

to please me whenever I needed his services of any

nature. I explained matters as best I could to him, and

said that he would be frequently in my bed.



Tariq al-Akhri dropped by one evening to see how I was

getting on and I walked him round the Palace.



He laughed and said ‘Jonathon, it is very very empty. I

remember staying here with my father as a child, and

then it was very packed and humming with activity. How

on earth are you getting things done with only the

overseer and three slaves?’



I said that I would have the other six properly trained

from his Palace within some weeks.



He said ‘Let me help. I shall send over a couple to help

you until yours are ready.’



‘Well, if you insist, but if you are going to send some

over then include Food and Drink.’



He looked at me not understanding, and I realised that I

had called the two body slaves by my own nicknames for

them. I explained and he roared laughing.



‘That,’ I said, ‘reminds me of something I have for you’

and I brought him back into the Palace and presented him

with the golden fly swish as a token of my appreciation

for his thoughtfulness. I said that I had deliberately

chosen the simplest and plainest of patterns in the gold

because it looked most beautiful that way. He was very

pleased with the present.



He asked what I was doing Thursday week and I could not

think of anything being on that day. He said ‘Come with

me as my guest to the birthday party of our eldest

brother Rashid who will be fifty.’ I agreed.



Food and Drink and two others arrived the following

morning by Transit van. They looked frightened on coming

out of it and I suppose that they had never really been

outside Tariq’s Palace and grounds. On seeing me, they

both gave a yelp of glee and hurdled over and made

obeisance so quickly their heads barely touched the

ground before they were kissing my feet.



The other two had their heads firmly on the ground until

Aziz got them to move. He seemed pleased to have the

extra staff for the amount of things which had to be

done, and he swished his new black onyx fly swish with

the importance of his authority.



The days went by and every day brought a new delight. I

had the Bank’s driver installed in one of the servants

rooms. He was not a slave, but an actual employee of the

Bank, but a small payment convinced him to up camp from

the capital and re-locate to two rooms where everything

was free.



In this way, I would rise at 5.30 in the morning, after

a pleasurable night with Yuriy who was mastering his

squatting technique to perfection, and be in the

limousine on the way to the Bank by 6.00, so as to be

there at its office opening at 7.00. At that hour in the

morning, there was normally little or no traffic, except

in the last few minutes of our daily journey. One of the

great advantages of that early morning journey was that

it gave me time to do my homework. With 15 branches of

the Bank around the world and various departments in

London, there were at least 20 monthly reports to be

digested. I tried to digest at least one a day and

usually managed to do so.



One thing I did in those days was to transfer half a

million euro into Gustav Ahlsom’s account so that he

would not be short should any further Swede come on the

market. He seem genuinely shocked at my generosity and

said that he would inform the Embassy. I told him to do

no such thing that it was a personal thing out of respect

for what he was doing, not a political thing.



I also took the New Concorde from Bahrain to London for

our monthly July meeting on the 16th. The board looked

very pleased with the inflow of deposits into the Dahran

branch and it gave me a chance to do some housekeeping

and an hour’s shopping in London. But it was literally a

30 hour visit and no more.



The driver was waiting for me at the airport as I got

off the interconnecting LearJet from Bahrain, and that

night I spent it in and up Ross, but did not come until

I had him shoot twice, with a shout and a whimper, and

only then did I take him a little more roughly than

usual. Ross was developing an all over tan which made

him look very very beautiful.



Rashid’s birthday party had to be seen to be believed.

Whether he wanted to impress, or whether being fifty was

the big thing, I do not know but all his wives and children

were there, all his brothers and their wives and their

children. There must have been over three hundred of the

wider al-Akhri family at it. I was the only European

that I could see.



There were presents everywhere, almost like a children’s

party. Everyone had something large or small for their

father or uncle, or in-law, but generally they were

small presents capable of being presented by hand.



Tariq had told me, when I had enquired of him what

to bring that Rashid liked silk and any item of clothes

in silk would be more than acceptable. I felt a

little embarrassed by my gifts because they had to be

carried in like two big long logs. The children

thought it very funny and even behind the veils of

the wives, I could see the odd smile.



As Rashid had made a big fuss over each of the presents,

opening them and giving his children and nephews big

kisses, he could hardly fail to open mine which were a

bolt of pure cream coloured silk with every fiftieth

thread in actual gold – 50th birthday and all that,

and a bolt of a new type of mohair which had silk

woven into the fabric. The first bolt, when a

few yards were unrolled, glimmered in the illumination

of a thousand lights and the second looked burnished

grey and was the softest and lightest of fabrics.



Rashid’s gimlet eyes gleamed in pleasure. I explained to

him that rather than me giving him a garment which he

might not really appreciate, he could have his tailors

do what he wanted with the bold of silk and mohair. He

actually clapped his hands in pleasure, and some of his

wives came forward to finger the cream silk and he

whooshed them away before they laid claim to it.



The presents of the brothers were different. Each gave a

top of the range car and we had to go out and look at

the gleaming superb models - each hand made, hand tooled

and individually monogrammed. Even I was shocked at the



lavishness of the gifts, none of which could have been

less than a million dollars.



The evening was itself cool and with the sheer number of

children and wives inside, I welcomed the breath of

fresh air. Abdou al-Akhri, the youngest brother, from

whom I had purchased the Aloe Palace, came up to me and

we started chatting. He, too, I think was feeling the

noise of the children and the hullabaloo inside so we

began to walk around the Palace. Abdou was talking about

his work in Geneva, which ...


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