Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [73]
“Understood,” I replied.
On 12 September 2002 Prison Service Instruction No. 47/2002 stated that the judgment of the European Court of Human Rights in the case of Ezeh & Connors ruled that, where an offense was so extreme as to result in a punishment of additional days, the protections inherent in Article 6 of the European Convention of Human Rights applied, A hearing must be conducted by an independent and impartial tribunal, and prisoners are entitled to legal assistance at such hearings.
Pete Bailey was released from Lincoln prison on 19 October 2002.
A Greek Trazedy
George Tsakiris is not one of those Greeks you need to beware of when he is bearing gifts.
George is fortunate enough to spend half his life in London and the other half in his native Athens. He and his two younger brothers, Nicholas and Andrew, run between them a highly successful salvage company, which they inherited from their father.
George and I first met many years ago during a charity function in aid of the Red Cross. His wife Christina was a member of the organizing committee, and she had invited me to be the auctioneer.
At almost every charity auction I have conducted over the years, there has been one item for which you just can’t find a buyer, and that night was no exception. On this occasion, another member of the committee had donated a landscape painting that had been daubed by their daughter and would have been orphaned at a village fete. I felt, long before I climbed up onto the rostrum and searched around the room for an opening bid, that I was going to be left stranded once again.
However, I had not taken George’s generosity into consideration.
“Do I have an opening bid of one thousand pounds?” I inquired hopefully, but no one came to my rescue. “One thousand?” I repeated, trying not to sound desperate, and just as I was about to give up, out of a sea of black dinner jackets a hand was raised. It was Georges.
“Two thousand,” I suggested, but no one was interested in my suggestion. “Three thousand,” I said looking directly at George.
Once again his hand shot up. “Four thousand,” I declared confidently, but my confidence was short-lived, so I returned my attention to George. “Five thousand,” I demanded, and once again he obliged. Despite his wife being on the committee, I felt enough was enough. “Sold for five thousand pounds, to Mr. George Tsakiris,” I announced to loud applause, and a look of relief on Christina’s face.
Since then poor George, or to be more accurate rich George, has regularly come to my rescue at such functions, often purchasing ridiculous items, for which I had no hope of arousing even an opening bid. Heaven knows how much I’ve prised out of the man over the years, all in the name of charity.
Last year, after I’d sold him a trip to Uzbekistan, plus two economy tickets courtesy of Aeroflot, I made my way across to his table to thank him for his generosity.
“No need to thank me,” George said as I sat down beside him. “Not a day goes by without me realizing how fortunate I’ve been, even how lucky I am to be alive.”
“Lucky to be alive?” I said, smelling a story.
Let me say at this point that the tired old cliché, that there’s a book in every one of us, is a fallacy However, I have come to accept over the years that most people have experienced a single incident in their life that is unique to them, and well worthy of a short story. George was no exception.
“Lucky to be alive,” I repeated.
George and his two brothers divide their business responsibilities equally: George runs the London office, while Nicholas remains in Athens, which allows Andrew to roam around the globe whenever one of their sinking clients needs to be kept afloat.
Although George maintains establishments in London, New York and Saint-Paul-de-Vence, he still regularly returns to the home of the gods, so that he can keep in touch with his large family Have you noticed how wealthy people always seem to have large families?