I, Partridge - Alan Partridge [95]
They could (should) have taken a leaf out of my book. Long before the design was finished, I’d brained out a list of potential names for the property.
COLEMAN HOUSE
ATLANTIS
ACE HOUSE
ALAN HOUSE
THE COTTAGE
THE OLD RECTORY
BARN COTTAGE
FOLLYFOOT
STEED MANOR
LORD HOUSE
ROCKFORD HOUSE
FLAMBARDS
BRIDESHEAD HOUSE
THE SKIRMISHES
APACHE
TOMAHAWK
SCEPTRE HOUSE
THE CINNAMONS (it’s just a lovely ingredient)
CLASSIC HOUSE
THE CLASSICS
MANOR HOUSE
BENTLEY HOUSE
LARGE COTTAGE
That kind of thing. No, I was happy for my architects to mimic the Redrow boys wholesale, then I paid them handsomely and the building work began. But where to live in the meantime?
The Linton Travel Tavern had made it abundantly clear that I was welcome back at any time, but knowing that builders are often ex-offenders, I thought it best to stay on site where I could better observe/befriend/monitor them.
I would be staying in a static caravan (see picture section) – a 10-footer from the yet-to-be-bettered Delta range. I was comfortable with this (I’d be living in it for three years anyway, parked up in the garden of a kindly farmer.)218
It’s funny – when you move from a hotel or detached house into a 10-foot static home, people are quick to assume you’re down on your luck financially.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. After all, for some time Jimmy Savile lived in a caravan and absolutely insists it was a lifestyle choice. Scruffy crooner David Essex also lived in one.219
My reasons had nothing to do with money. Caravanning had long been an ambition of mine. It gave me the opportunity to live out the holiday I’d always been denied in my harrowing childhood – minus the swingball. At the same time, I hoped it would give me a chink of insight into the mind-set of the travelling community, so that I might come to understand how they could even consider dumping a binbag full of used nappies in the ginnel next to someone’s house.220
No, I was doing pretty fine, thanks. I was approaching my 200th episode of Skirmish and had learnt all there is to know about military strategy. I don’t think it was in any way arrogant of me to offer my services as a consultant to the Ministry of Defence. (I revoked the offer when I realised it might mean travelling to London or Aldershot, but I’m confident they’d have literally bitten my hand off.)
At the same time, my other business interests were blossoming like the small flowers that grow on trees each spring. Peartree Productions had been a great success, having achieved everything it had set out to. And so, with its mission accomplished, it was placed into liquidation.
Instead, my efforts were focused on a new and exciting venture. The Apache Group of Companies® was aimed squarely at the canny businessman, a one-stop shop providing everything a business might need. Comprising six distinct brands – Apache Communications, Apache Productions, Apache Office Supplies,221 Apache Media Training, Apache Risk Management (‘Trust No One’) and Apache Military Strategy – it was a welcome revenue stream that complemented Brand Partridge beautifully.
It was a tri-headquartered concern, with my business activities based out of the static home, the property-under-construction and Choristers Country Club.
Now a leading light in the local business community, I had taken membership of Choristers to provide some much-needed respite from the hustle and bustle and fustle of Norfolk life. As a