2017-Back to the future

2017-Back to the future

 Dazzling lights, flashing neon signs, sirens, groups of drunk shrieking stag dos and hen parties. We seek refuge in the closest thing we can find to a quiet bar.
I sink into the comfortable chair and sigh loudly with relief.
“What’s up?” He sips his beer slowly with great satisfaction. “A good end to a positive day. Things are on the up”. He lets out a quiet burp and rubs his belly. “Time for some grub. But you still haven’t told me what’s up?” I try to stop frowning, mindful of my teenage daughter’s constant scolding about wrinkles and frown lines. Don’t think I’m the type for botox but one can never say never.

“I’ve got that dark feeling again. Like a feeling of foreboding, a heaviness. Like something’s in the air but no idea what it is.” He looks at me with a mixture of concern and slight frustration.
 I get it. We’ve worked damn hard to get to this point so why put a dampener on it right now with my morose musings of an impending apocalypse?

These feelings I’ve had them all my life, even as a child. I’ve gone through periods of intensity and periods of barely anything.
 I’ve literally ‘smelt’ death before it’s happened and had end of days dreams since around the age of 9.
Unfortunately, I’m not quite on the same level of Nostradamus as if I were I could at least have made some money out of this, at best won the lottery but unfortunately in my case, it’s not yet happened. But it’s the same as 2005.

I owe him an explanation. “Remember I told you about my ‘adventures’ in real estate back in 2005? "

He nodded. "Yes, you mentioned it a few times but never really told me the whole story."

"These feelings I describe well it started happening back then in a really bad way. I kept getting that dark feeling of impending doom.
All around me it was sell sell sell, buy buy buy yet I could see the numbers were barely adding up.  I’m not exactly an Einstein and I couldn’t even pass GCSE Math’s but I’m good at mental arithmetic, percentages and statistics. People on ridiculously low wages and very high mortgages. The banks giving 100 % mortgages.
It was one massive accident waiting to happen. That area relied heavily on the textile industry and agriculture both of which were going down the pan. The textile industry was collapsing as they couldn’t compete with China’s low prices. Whenever I expressed my concerns to my collegues, I was told to stop being negative, stop being cynical! They would say, You’ve got mouths to feed, if you don’t sell it someone else will.”
He was listening. He seemed to be taking me reasonably seriously but one could never tell.

"I’ve never studied economics or business but I believe some things are just common sense. I felt like we were in a huge bubble and it was about to burst and bring us all crashing down.  I didn’t exactly understand how or when. I had my own personal problems and two other mouths to feed but even so, the feeling was there gnawing away at me."

 I continued. “They kept saying how weird it was for an estate agent not to even own a property. I was renting remember. A self employed single mother living on sales commissions and some occasional maintenance payments. It was like the wild west. Each to his own. Everyone getting up to dodgy stuff, agents, banks, insurance companies. I would walk from the office with shopping bags filled with thousands and there in the side room they’d sort the black from the white money. All open and very normal. I gave in to peer pressure. Got my mortgage, 100%. Knowing they massively over valued my little old townhouse. Did the renovation work. That’s another long story of errant gypsies, dodgy Brits on the run, all trying to scam me, little woman on her own. But I got my own back I can tell you”!
As the memories came flooding back I felt a mixture of sadness and anger, knowing what was coming next and how many victims it took.

“Carry on” he said quietly and gently, sensing my emotions.

 “Well, you and I both know what happened next. 2007, my house along with thousands were the first to be repossessed. Almost overnight the town became like a ghost town. We were the first wave before 2008. The property bubble well and truly burst. I remember hearing the mortgage broker whispering to my bank manager that never in his career had he seen anything like it. They were shits as far as I was concerned. I'd begged them for months to change my mortgage or freeze it. The sales had literally dried up. No commissions, no work. Their exact words were, ‘a mortgage is for life’ you can’t change it. Or rather, you can but at a very high cost which if I had had that money I wouldn’t need to! And bloody ten years later my house and thousands more still stand empty and decaying. Homeless everywhere, people hanging themselves, even publically! It was so dark. And I carried that feeling for a number of years. Like a bleak grey cloud I kept seeing everywhere.”

He motioned to the waiter to bring us more drinks. “Go on. So, are you saying you feel the same again?”

“Oh yes totally! It’s insanity. Nothing has really changed. Nor working conditions, spending. The prices are going silly again and now we are having a rental crisis and homelessness is growing by the day. I feel it’s coming all over again but I just don’t know this time what will trigger it. I reckon it will be a year, two years time it really starts but I don’t know how.
I’ve been researching, listening, watching, observing. Conflicting messages but I hear lots of people feel the same way. My gut is alerting me and I’d do well to listen though I don’t know how to save us.”
I started to feel agitated and irritable. It’s all very well sharing this but how do you change things when you’ve barely got anything anyway? Oh well, I guess it’s less to lose.

He sighed and took a sip from his drink. I did the same though downed it in one.
He laughed. “Do you want one of those herbal shot things you like so much?” I grinned for a moment. The drinker who doesn’t drink. We were suddenly interrupted by a friendly greeting from a tall handsome smartly dressed man.
 “Bill” he greeted my companion with a friendly punch on the shoulder. All very masculine.
“Jules” a friendly punch back. He turned to me and smiled in a guarded yet friendly manner.
 “You must be that mysterious talented lady I’ve heard so much about.” He kissed me on both cheeks.

“Jules, join us! You’ll enjoy the stimulating conversation. She likes a good discussion!” He hesitated as he looked at his watch. “Okay, I’ve still got half an hour before my dinner date. Another leggy blonde Russian!” He winked at Bill momentarily forgetting my presence then caught himself. “Sorry, hope I’ve not offended you.” He looked at me only slightly bashful. “Not at all. If you could only hear what us women say about you men!” They both laughed as he sat down.

“We were having a very interesting discussion about the world economy and the potential for a large meltdown very soon.” My heart sunk as I watched his response. I could almost see his hackles rising and the defensive look on his face. There goes the hope of any real balanced debate here.

“Nonsense. Based on what? Look around you. The hotels are almost 80% full which for the time of year is excellent. The restaurants are full. I was at enrique’s today. As you know, one of the most expensive in town, and it was full. There is money everywhere and it’s flowing. Even with your bloody Brexit on the cards, things will continue to be strong. There may be a few bumpy moments, some time for rebalancing but it will get even better. Believe me I know, I studied economics.”

 Okay. So, conversation over. No point even arguing with this type of person and definitely not going to refer to my ‘gut’ feeling and get laughed out of town. But unfortunately calling yourself an economist meant nothing to me. What were they all doing ten years ago? Economists, bankers, brokers, blah blah bollocky blah. And more bollocks. I had another shot. Bill looked at me in alarm. He knew I could get arsey after two herbal shots.

I suddenly felt nauseous. “Excuse me, I’m just going to the bathroom.” I got up quickly, almost knocking over my chair in my haste. I ran to the bathroom. As I flung open the door I felt my temperature rising. I began to gag. I was trembling, feeling hot and cold. Maybe it was the shots. Maybe something I had eaten.
Or maybe it was a really really bad premonition.

Finally, I calmed down, took some deep breaths and washed my face with cold water. I steadied myself and walked out as calmly and collected as possible. They were deep in conversation but looked relieved that I had appeared.
“I was about to come look for you or get one of the waitresses to check! Are you ok? You’re looking rather pale under that tan” Bill looked genuinely concerned despite his jovial tone.

“Hope it wasn’t something I said.” Jules joked yet I sensed an underlying tone of something else, something deeper and darker. Perhaps I had touched a nerve. Perhaps he did sense it too but was in denial.

“Thanks. I don’t feel great. I’m going to catch a cab to the hotel. See you in the office tomorrow.”

Before either of them could respond further, I shot a quick reassuring smile in Bill’s direction and fled as fast as I could. When I get like this, I need alone time. Away from humans, their noise, their emotions.

Maybe I’m an alien?

I flagged down the first cab coming my way and jumped in with a sigh of relief.
 “To the Golden.” He was a chatty one unfortunately, or fortunately as it turned out. “How’s business?” I asked. He momentarily frightened me by throwing his hands in the air, narrowly missing a pedestrian as the cab swerved. “Terrible! Only the Brits, even the bad ones, leave us a tip. They go to the airport. Long journey. But now no spending money. Bloody Brexit. And the locals.” He made a rude gesture and raised his eyebrows in the rear- view mirror. “Tight arses.” I laughed at his good use of English expletives. “They all lie here. The hotel full but all inclusive, not spend money in shops or restaurants. Very bad. Bloody government lie! They all lie”
 He was getting irate and I began to wish I hadn’t asked as the cab swerved again. But I was getting the answers I wanted.
Once again, I knew it wasn’t just me. So, one expensive restaurant in town was full with the same wealthy 50 people who own everything here. Hardly a good indicator of the reality of the situation. I thanked him and tipped him, wishing him luck but knowing we’d all need luck with what was evidently about to hit us sometime in the coming future.