Chapter 14 — The Inner Circle and Manny Wheelman

The Inner Circle’s meteoric rise to LCA Champions was down to coercing a strong player from the University called Matty to come and play for the team. He was just below 200 grade, and to any club player that was strong. With myself and Stuart on the next two boards and the Doctor and John on the last two boards we were a formidable force, and didn’t have much difficulty winning the First Division Championship.

The Doctor at this time was in great spirits and deeply enjoying the game of chess and the social life surrounding it. However, there was always one thing that would niggle his self-esteemed nature and pride and that was Manny Wheelman.

The Doctor and Manny Wheelman were of similar strength. Manny could equal the Doctor’s tactics and strategies on the chessboard, but unlike the Doctor he was erratic and could easily let loose with a howler or blunder, which kept his grade low. Manny, though, usually pulled out his best games when playing the Doctor, and he would invariably reduce that learned fellow to indescribable fits of rage.

The Doctor viewed Manny – and openly called him – as the club’s ‘Neanderthal’. Manny never bit and merely smirked at the Doctor with a somewhat wise grin, which openly made the Doctor wince. For some inexplicable reason, the Doctor couldn’t comprehend how Manny could ever possess the intelligence to defeat him at the game of chess, but he often did, and as hitherto being mentioned, this enraged the pride-filled fellow.

Manny never had any money and after each game, during each game, and even before each game, the Doctor would say to him, ‘Here, Manny, go and get me a pint, and get yourself half a lager.’ Manny would tolerate this form of servile subjection, as he was rewarded with drinks. To any outsider, Manny would have been seen as a mere lackey, but members of the chess fraternity all knew that the relationship each of those men had was mutually beneficial.

One day Manny won the lottery – not much, a thousand pounds or so – but the Doctor waited eagerly that Wednesday night for his ‘payback beer,’ which amounted to some considerable sum. Manny didn’t turn up; nor did he turn up for the next two weeks. I can imagine Manny sat at home with his thousand pounds, grinning as he thought about the Doctor sat waiting for his alcoholic debt to be paid.

When Manny did finally turn up, all his money spent, the Doctor was visibly seething, but he kept back just enough equilibrium of mind to seek a facile revenge.

‘Manny, nip to the bar, there’s a good dog,’ he started with jocularity. ‘Get me my usual and get Karl and Stuart one to start with.’

Money was passed to Manny, and off he set for the bar, and within a short period of time he returned with the beer and stood facing the Doctor, waiting for his customary beer for the servitude.

‘I won’t buy you one, Manny, as you’ve a grand to pay for your own, you fucking Neanderthal.’

The Doctor never bought Manny a pint ever again, and Manny never went to the bar for him ever again, but Manny did have the last laugh.

The Doctor had been given the duty of looking after and managing a fish and chip shop for a friend, who’d been unexpectedly called away from Leeds to deal with a family matter. The Doctor was all puffed up with stupid pride, and at almost every turn in a conversation he would bring the discussion round to how brilliant he was at business, and how much he’d improved the operation of cooking fish and chips.

‘Now that I’m the manager of Mahogany’s Fish and Chips Cuisine, Manny, I’ll bring some scraps for you and the family to pick over while you all grunt like the Neanderthals you are over there in Belle Isle.’ It always irked the Doctor that Manny could never string a complete sentence together.

Manny merely grinned at his adversary, and aside he said, ‘I’m sick of hearing about his fish and fucking chips.’

Indeed, to us all, the topic was stale, and groans could be heard whenever the Doctor uttered the words ‘fish and chips’.

Butler finally ended the monotonous gloating and puffed up self-idolatry of the Doctor. Butler grew up with Manny and me on the Belle Isle estate. He was a factory manager with a professional sounding voice, perfect for the phone.

‘Hello, is that the Head Manager of Mahogany’s Fish and Chips Cuisine?’ began the salesman’s voice of Butler.

‘Yes, I’m Paul’ – that was one of the Doctor’s names – ‘I’m the Head Manager of Mahogany’s Fish and Chips Cuisine, and I’m an extremely busy man. How can I help?’

‘Hi there, Paul. I represent Swillington Fishery Suppliers. Our company has been established for over 150 years. We know you don’t buy from us, but we’ve an offer you simply cannot refuse. Have you got a minute?’

‘Yes, if it’s only a minute. What’s the offer?’

‘Thanks for your time, Paul. Swillington Fishery Suppliers not only plant, farm and harvest the finest potatoes in Yorkshire, but we also have a very efficient distribution arm, which ensures the finest restaurants in Yorkshire receive on time our wonderful produce. For the next two weeks Swillington Fishery Suppliers are prepared to supply Mahogany Fish and Chips Cuisine potatoes completely free of charge.’

‘Yes, but do I have to enter into some form of a contract?’

‘Certainly not, Paul, and at the end of the two weeks you can do entirely as you please, but I’m sure you’ll want to continue to buy potatoes from us in the future when your customers start to pass favourable comments back to the management. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t receive some sort of promotion or salary enhancement for your sales and business initiative.’

‘Well, when you say it like that, you have me convinced. When can you deliver the first batch of your free and delicious potatoes?’

‘We can deliver them within the next hour since one of our vans is in your part of town.’

‘Brilliant! I’ll be here. I’m sorry, but I never got your name?’ queried the Doctor, completely lost in his recent good fortune.

‘It’s Manny. Manny Wheelman.’

There must have been at least eight of us falling about laughing in the room that day when Butler made the call, and all eight heard the Doctor groan on the other end of the phone. It was Manny, however, who put the poor, deluded fellow out of his misery. ‘Doctor! You fucking Neanderthal!’