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During my period of R&D for The Home Club I was able to gauge the popularity of fashionistas and brand ambassadors. This got me thinking about how to define my community and the people I want to include in it. For example, I noticed the many likes on my LinkedIn account from a Mrs Nicola Manning. On the face of it, as her profile explained, Nicola was a qualified solicitor working at Jarmans Solicitors whose head office was in Sittingbourne, Kent. She had been in practice for over 35 years, in the City and in various places around London, covering many diverse practice areas and client types during a long and distinguished career in the law. She was also a Trustee of the Law Society Charity.
Nicola was founder Freeman, active court assistant and multi-committee member at the City of London Guild of Entrepreneurs. Nicola managed the education arm of the Outreach and Education Committee, then working with three schools and a number of young aspiring entrepreneurs, as well as managing the Guild’s Twitter account. She held the record for bringing in the newest Freemen and she enjoys being actively involved in City and Livery life.
I couldn’t see how our careers might be aligned, but once I posted news of my receipt of my Badge of Honour on my LinkedIn platform, Nicola and I decided to meet at: Revolution London bar in Clapham Junction to discuss potential business.
I explained my new trusted community to her, along with my future plans, and invited her to meet with Henry Goldstein at his office to further our conversation. Before I left, Nicola asked if I might consider being a Freeman of the Guild of Entrepreneurs, then based at the London Capital Club, and situated in Abchurch Lane in the City of London.
The City of London had always fascinated me, and I was certainly interested in learning more after my experience of the Whittington Walk and lunch at Mansion House.
I fulfilled the criteria and told Nicola of my conviction for fraud. I wanted to ensure openness and transparency, as I could see no reference to having a criminal record in the application documents. Nicola said, ‘That wouldn’t be a problem and we would love to have you join us.’
I felt proud to be associated with the Guild and early history; more than that, I particularly felt honoured to be supporting the City of London. I called Henry to ask if he would join the Ceremony at Guildhall, where I was to be installed as Freeman of the Guild of Entrepreneurs.
He accepted, saying that he was already a Freeman of the City of London and a Freeman of one of the Livery Companies.
I received a text from Wendy asking where I was, as she was waiting for me at the tennis club. I made my apologies, saying that I was dropping off important papers at the barristers’ chambers, which was the truth. The other consideration was that, in the cold light of day, and although I had every desire to meet with her, I thought better of it, preferring to keep my distance other than the social tennis, where she seemed now to be even keener.
Unable to pin me down to a date, as I slid across the soft clay court during our next social tennis evening, my only defence was humour. Whilst I still amused her, she realised I was not ready for one-on-one matches, so she cleverly invited me to her and Luigi’s’ ‘Summer Tennis Party’ in their penthouse at the top end of Wimbledon Village. I could see a ‘get out of that then’ look in her eyes, even though she didn’t linger on the point for any longer than was necessary.
They were in the habit of renting out their penthouse to one of the star players during the Wimbledon Championships fortnight in order to go on holiday. The party took place at the conclusion of the Championships, on 9 July 2016. I had bought a new outfit and was feeling relaxed as I entered their apartment block to join a couple of their guests in the lift who were also attending the party.
I entered the penthouse and was met by a waiter who handed me a glass of Rosé Champagne. I climbed the stairs to the open living-room diner, which had a white piano and two mic stands in the far corner, the kitchen and island to my left-centre, and amazing food everywhere. Their staff then guided me on to the terrace by, which overlooked the whole of Wimbledon High Street and provided distant views of SW19.
I felt a hand on my back and as I turned, I heard a voice.
‘Would you like a top-up’, said Luigi, as he held a bottle of Champagne.
‘I’m fine, thanks’, I replied, as he turned to fill the glasses of his other guests.
I made conversation with most of the guests, but couldn’t see Wendy anywhere, as she was playing hostess and tending to her visitors. After a while, Eric stepped up to one of the microphones and began to play an intro on his electric guitar. His girlfriend Georgina followed his lead and placed her sax to her lips. The party had really now begun.
Eric sang and Georgie joined him in the harmony parts, which showed a close couple that were excellent performers. I had played social tennis with them on many occasions and they were close friends of Luigi and Wendy. Eric was quite a few years older than Georgie, which concerned her father. He was a funny guy and reasonable tennis player: Georgie being fun loving and wanting a family of her own, they made for a lovely couple. I really enjoyed their performance.
Eventually Wendy appeared, making her way through the crowd of guests carrying canapés and chatting along the way. Finally she reached where I was standing,
‘Would you like something to eat?’ she enquired, as she looked down and went through her various options.
I couldn’t help but notice her as she had made such an effort and looked amazing. ‘I’m fine for the moment thank you,’ I replied.
After getting the formalities out of the way, leant forward to kiss her on one cheek and lingering on the other, so that she could smell my cologne, Aventus (by Creed), which she breathed in.
‘Okay then, there’s lots more if you want it,’ she replied, and moved on to other guests before looking back at me, which I reciprocated.
The evening went well, comprising of more music, drinks and a little dancing, before the night came to an end. As I walked up to her at the top of the stairs, we remained focused and formal: why, I have no idea, other than to ward off any suspicious thoughts about us flirting. Wimbledon Village culture is full of wagging tongues. Wendy and Luigi were sometimes referred to as the ‘Beckhams of Wimbledon’. On the face of it they seemed to be happy, so it wasn’t for me to spoil the party.
The following day, I thought it would be a good idea to message Wendy to ask if she would join me for a hit, to which she agreed. I say, ‘thought it was a good idea’ as it didn’t make it any easier not to desire her, and she knew exactly how to dress for the occasion: sparingly, and with tan, full hair do and make-up.
It was all too much for a humble Essex Boy like me and I was caving in. In some respects, it helped that she had to be back home by 5.00 pm to make dinner; otherwise she might not have gone home at all that night.
I also needed to have an early night, as I was to meet with a new contact the following day: the owner of The Golden Network, Miss Victoria Salem. We arranged to meet at Aubaine, a café overlooking Hyde Park in Bayswater. Victoria was approximately 5ft 6in, French, with long dark hair and slim, wearing a classic dress that showed off her usual smart-casual look.
Her body language was very French, with an undertone of femininity when she showed an interest in a subject. Once I began to discuss The Home Club that afternoon with her, there was no more feminine woman in Bayswater.
The Golden Network was apparently an events club for people in the City who wanted someone to curate a night out: dinner, or something more interesting. As Victoria had attracted around 40 members or so, it seemed she was succeeding. Unfortunately, her problem was that she couldn’t rely on these events as her sole source of income. When she revealed this to me, I asked to attend one of her events, to see for myself whether or not my contacts might be interested in her network.
By this time, I could see how brand ambassadors might fit The Home Club so I designed a simple contract for them to sign and follow, which would bring them remuneration ‘in consideration’ of their efforts.
Russian money filled Mayfair at this time. I was soon introduced to Miss Julia Titova, a Russian businesswoman and owner of Miss USSR UK: a beauty pageant that was asking The Home Club to sponsor the beauty contest and inviting my contacts to purchase tickets to her event.
I was thinking about making her a brand ambassador of The Home Club ’s Fashion and Tailoring category and reversing the introductions. At this time, The Home Club had a database of over 500,000 high net-worth executive contacts: 60 per cent in the UK; 30 per cent in the USA, and the balance across the rest of the world. This figure was separate from my own social media contacts, most of which were located at LinkedIn.
I invited Henry and Julia to the City Giving Day launch at Guildhall to introduce them to Lord Mountevans, the then Lord Mayor of the City of London, and Alderman Peter Hewitt, then Master of the Worshipful Company of Woolmen, one of the City of London’s 110 Livery Company’s, in the courtyard at Guildhall. Whilst at the event, I met a well-dressed Chinese Lady named, Mei Sim Lai, who introduced herself as City of London ‘connector’ and ‘introducer’.
We exchanged business cards and Mei Sim mentioned that she held events in and around the City and would invite me to the next one. We had some photos taken on our iPhones and participated in a group photo along with others. As a result, The Home Club brand featured on the front pages of City AM.
Pictured Left to right - Darren Bolger, Julia Titova, Lord Mounteavans, Mei Sim Lai, Henry Goldstein.
With my new membership at the Guild of Entrepreneurs, I learnt more about the ‘Sheep Drive’: an ancient ceremony to steer six sheep across London Bridge that is organised by the Worshipful Company of Woolman. I attended one such event, loving the experience of watching the Formula One and Indianapolis 500 champion, Nigel Mansel, drive sheep rather than performance cars. This is the type of experience I want for The Home Club members, I thought to myself as I watched the ceremony.
As the sheep were arriving, I met one of the Freemen of the Worshipful Company of Woolman. After complimenting my jacket, we spoke about The Home Club . Once he had a grasp of my plans for the Club, he introduced me to Mrs Fidelma Hewitt, wife of Alderman Peter Hewett. Fidelma was charming, and very interested in The Home Club especially its contacts and cyber security elements. She mentioned that she worked for a senior cyber security company and would introduce me to the owner of the organisation, John – or, as I later referred to him, ‘Q’. We exchanged numbers and the introduction was made.
As things were going well, I was surprised that without indication or giving a reason why, Julia resigned her position with The Home Club . Whilst surprised, I discovered that her event wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. I had made enquiries into her pageant, as I had been considering referring introductions to her. In order to relieve the situation, I decided to invite Villa over for some more tennis, before returning to my apartment for lunch, followed by a Jacuzzi bath and swim together.
This was a great idea, which we repeated and enjoyed a few times together as friends.
I heard about a Russian girl was starting her own network of people and businesses in luxury markets.
I arranged to meet Miss Alina Blinova in The Fumoir cocktail bar at Claridge’s in Mayfair. I was wearing a suit and she was head-to-toe in the latest designer fashion: mink coat across her shoulders, leather trousers and a revealing top, which showed off her Cartier watch. She had long dark hair with immaculate make-up and nails. She looked very attractive. Her deep tone of broken English in a Russian accent added to her mystique and she was charming and seemingly connected.
I explained what I was looking for in a brand ambassador for The Home Club ’s Luxury department. She told me about some of her close personal friends: David Lewis, Group Managing Director of Sunseeker London – based in Dover Street, Mayfair – and his Russian wife, Alexis. In fact, Alina began to drop more names that I could hope to recall. She also dropped her stiff, strong Russian persona for something that resembled a market trader, and I knew the difference.
She appeared to be trying her best, so I asked her if she would show me more of ‘her people’, so that I could consider whether or not they were suitable to be potentially invited to meet with my contacts. Alina invited me to attend an event she was creating with her sister, Nadia, at Morton’s private members club on Berkeley Square in Mayfair.
I received the invitation and great honour of attending the ‘Silent Ceremony’ at Guildhall, held on 11 November 2016. This event saw in the new Lord Mayor of the City of London, Alderman Dr Andrew Parmley. I decided to take Villa along with me so she could experience the type of people with whom we were to connect.
Villa and I thoroughly enjoyed the Ceremony, and she began to understand my network and wider circles of influence.
Soon afterwards, I decided to arrange lunch at my home for the Brand Ambassadors to meet each other. Villa, George and Henry came on the day; Alina followed on later in the month, as she was unable to attend. We had a great time discussing the future of The Home Club and its potential to be the most exclusive club in the world.
It was only when I clicked through and watched a YouTube video from London Fashion Week, featuring an odd-looking character wearing sunglasses, did I realise that the person interested in being my Facebook friend was in fact Bernhard Dyne, the fashion designer.
‘Odd name for a girl?’ I thought. After an initial message asking for her phone number, I gave her a call.
When she picked up the receiver, I said, ‘Hello, er… Bernhard?’
I heard a gentle soft voice trying not to laugh, before she responded, ‘I get that a lot! It’s actually my fashion label name, named in part after my Grandfather, who I adored.’
We kept chatting and agreed to meet in Knightsbridge for dinner. I thought that I’d invite her to a restaurant about which I had heard great reviews from my contacts: Ametsa with Arzak Instruction, in Belgravia.
I arrived early at COMO: The Halkin and waited in the bar with a large Jack Daniels, wondering what she would be like. Then I saw her arrive - long coat and boots, looking a little lost at reception. I stood up and went to greet her. She was about 5’ 4” (163 cm) in tall, dark brown shoulder-length hair, and very attractive. I was intrigued. When we sat back at my table, she was a little nervous, placing her coat by her side and shuffling in her seat.
‘I saw your text about your arrival here, 45 minutes ago,’ she said, with a gentle smirk that made me smile.
‘Did you save my name in your phone as Bernhard or Lily, which is my real name. Well Liilia, actually, but most people call me Lily, and so should you.’
She was sweet, attractive and funny, just my type – well, every red-blooded man’s type, really – and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I’m still not really sure how I landed her as a first date!
‘Your table, sir’ I looked around to see the host. Honestly, I’d almost forgotten about dinner. It was possibly the only time I took my eyes off her all night.
The decor at The Halkin was luxurious and romantic, yet tastefully simple. A stunning venue for dinner, I thought, as we were guided to our table, where I pulled out Lily’s seat. I gave her the view of the restaurant, as I had no need to see anything else but her. We chatted about everything in an open and honest way, perhaps a little more would be usual for a first date.
We laughed a lot and trialled the seven-course tasting menu with wine accompaniment. It was the most delicious food imaginable and became my favourite by default – after the demise of ToTos on Walton Street – my favourite restaurant, at the end of a cobbled street where I had once lived along with Miss Havisham and the place where our daughter was conceived in Lennox Gardens Mews, Knightsbridge SW1.
Amazing female company, fantastic ambience and great waiter service, made for one of my most memorable dates. Neither of us wanted the night to end as the evening had been perfect. We were the last ones left in the restaurant, still chatting away. The staff started to quietly clear the tables and I could see that she was wondering if I would ask her to go on to a private members club or for a late coffee. Instead, with a ’quit while you’re ahead’ mind-set, I called a taxi to take her home.
Chivalry, respect and honour are standard in my book, other than the odd lapse and slide into temptation. I am only human and admit that I’ve made mistakes sometimes. At that exact moment in time, though, all I could think about was Lily, and it gave me an excuse to court her with traditional romance.
As we left the hotel, it began to rain, so I put my arm around her as I opened the taxi door. The thought of visiting a club was certainly crossed my mind but held the romantic line. My heart was beating a little faster than normal and I hoped that hers was doing the same.
During the taxi ride home, I asked her on a second date. She looked at me and said, ‘Okay, just send me a message; I’d really like that. I’ve had a lovely evening, thank you.’
We soon arrived outside her flat. One single, friendly kiss on the cheek, and she was off. I watched her all the way into the hall, where she turned and waved.
‘Now we can go,’ I said to the driver.
I arranged to meet with Lily again two days after our first date. We met at her home on the Cromwell Road in Kensington and walked along Kensington High Street to enter Kensington Gardens and continue across Hyde Park. We chatted away as if we had known each other for years, discussing family and future wants and desires. We stood for a moment at the ‘Joy of Life Fountain’ on Park Lane before finally walking along Mount Street in Mayfair and on to a restaurant I had always planned to visit – the highly regarded fish, seafood and oyster bar: Scott’s Restaurant.
We stopped at the traffic lights at the junction with Park Street. Lily slipped slightly, and as I lifted her arm to stop her from falling, her purse hit the ground and her make-up scattered across the road. As it was a Sunday, it wasn’t busy, but I could see a black cab approaching. I walked into the road leaving Lily on the Pavement, and with traffic lights still green, bent over to collect up her belongings. The black cab waited patiently. When I stepped back on to the pavement, Lily put her belongings into in her purse and placed her hand under my arm, looking up at me with a smile.
‘You could have been killed!’ she said.
‘No, they stopped so as not to make a dent in their car.’ I replied jokingly and we laughed out loud together. I felt her squeeze my arm even harder as we arrived at Scott’s.
As we entered the classic yet sumptuous restaurant reception, the waiting staff took Lily’s coat. She was left standing in the middle of the foyer, wearing a light-cream, tightly fitted cashmere outfit, top and separate short skirt, tights and high-heel shoes. Her clothes were stunning, and she was born to wear them. I felt the real meaning of the word. I was in awe!
I have been very lucky in meeting some amazing women, each beautiful in their individual ways, but beauty is very much in the eye of the beholder. Lily looked absolutely incredible. I am not embarrassed so say that I began spluttering, like Mr Bean. What had she done to me? I can usually hold my own anywhere and in any situation, but I felt a little out of my depth.
The whole restaurant followed her, as she walked amongst the tables, with me in tow, until I could pull her chair and watch her giggling, as she knew I was feeling nervous.
I was shell-shocked and even thought about applauding her. Instead, I leaned over, took her hand, looked into her eyes and said, ‘You are absolutely stunning, thank you!’
After an amazing lunch, we took the short cab ride back to Lily’s where I dropped her off and asked her for another date, which she accepted, as long as it was at the weekend because she worked at her fashion business during the week. On my way home I received a text message from Villa, asking me to meet with her and her partner, Richard Miller: a sports therapist and nutritionist, who also shared a Harley Street practice.
Villa asked me to lunch at the Lansdowne Club in Mayfair to discuss The Home Club and the possibility of inviting her business contacts to become ‘Affiliates’. I was introduced to Richard (or ‘Rick’, as he preferred), and he showed me his badge, located on the left lapel of his jacket.
He explained that Villa’s father had given it to him, and he took the gift as a great honour, in his position as Villa’s ‘life partner’. I glanced at Villa, who was looking over her shoulder, wide-eyed. I decided not to mention the tennis and spa sessions with Villa, only a week or so before the lunch. Although it felt like a lifetime ago, I didn’t believe there had been enough time for someone to become Villa’s ‘life partner’. Things sometimes do move fast. We are only friends of course!
It seemed to me that Villa had told Rick about my Badge of Honour and my Guild of Entrepreneurs pin, both of which I wore with great pride. Rick was mentioning his own badge, and his feelings toward it, in an attempt to establish common ground. As we ate, Rick explained his practice on Harley Street and Villa interjected with, ‘Is there a position for Rick in The Home Club ? He’s very good at his job and worked with the British Olympic Team at the 2012 Olympics’.
‘Sounds good!’ I said, ‘Send me your references and I’ll definitely give it some thought – and, of course, as you’re Villa’s ‘life partner’, then you already have a trusted introduction.’ Villa nodded with a slight embarrassment.
As one event ended, another began. In the mood for pomp and similar dress, I arranged my next date with Lily to be at the English National Opera House in Covent Garden for a performance of Puccini’s Tosca. I had bought the best seats in the house, arranged champagne, and booked dinner afterwards.
We both had a great time and were becoming ever closer. Lily explained her recent break-up from an established relationship and that she wasn’t interested in any of her ex-boyfriends offers of reconciliation. I appreciated her honesty and resolved to take things slowly, so as not to lose her completely.
It was almost Christmas 2016, and Lilly had pre-booked a holiday with her business partner Ellie. It would be a month before we would meet again, but no matter. Christmas was a family time: dinner with my mother, brothers, and the kids.
For the first time in a while, we were all looking forward to the future, and the potential of The Home Club was gathering momentum in all sorts of circles. Bentley, Lomond Yachts, Taj Palaces and Six Senses were just a few of the global luxury brands that were joining as Affiliates. The people now interested in joining The Home Club were from the circles I had envisaged.
I couldn’t wait for everyone to return from the Christmas break and get on with The Home Club . The meetings with the Brand Ambassadors went well, contracts were signed, and we were planning for a wonderful future.
It appeared that whilst enjoying the development of The Home Club, I had almost forgotten about the dark forces working constantly in the shadows, intent to bring me to my knees as I had not only cracked the conspiracy case against my brothers, but I had also discovered an equal level of conspiring linked to mine. This, in addition to the other information I held on major police consporacy and malfeasance in the Met. and Essex Police.
This was an awakening and I decided to submit a Subject Access Request to the Criminal Cases Review Commission (CCRC) after receiving further evidence on the Metropolitan Police and Essex Police conspiracy and fabrication of evidence against my family.
I received the Commission's reply and noted a reference to me being placed on the ‘Police HOLMES 2 Database’.
According to Wikipedia,
‘HOLMES 2 (Home Office Large Major Enquiry System) is an information technology system that is predominantly used by UK police forces for the investigation of major incidents such as serial murders and high value frauds.
The system is a single application, which was developed by Unisys for the Police Information Technology Organisation under the Private Finance Initiative. It provides total compatibility and consistency between all the Police forces of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, as well as the Royal Military Police. The name of the system is a reference to the fictional private detective Sherlock Holmes.’
I took some advice and discovered that this 'police database' was reserved for Terrorists and the Top Ten crime families. I wondered how I had found myself on this high-level, international police monitoring system and reverted to the war like standby that I had adopted after almost 20 years of police interest in my family.
I needed focus, which I was able to achieve when hearing that Henry had incorrectly filed two VAT returns, valued at £1.2 million, from Echo, when neither did the company have a VAT registration number, nor had it applied for one: the papers were pro-formers only. I contacted HMRC and was told to wait for a reply.
Why had Henry submitted VAT returns when there were clearly no VAT numbers on the Echo invoices, nor were the invoices consistent with The Home Club ’s bank accounts. I wondered how Henry had got this so wrong! Robin Atkins was previously, as senior a figure at HMRC as I knew and he was silent. It appeared that HMRC were intent upon bringing me down, along with their police friends. I knew why; as I hold information that they would not be comfortable with and as such, there appeared to be a grudge that I would need to keep an eye on when previously Chairman and Founder of Justice on Appeal.
I had spent considerable time at the tennis club, making friends and thoroughly enjoying the game and so I had was then asked to join, The Wimbledon Club social tennis committee and had met with Dr Az Hakeem, who was also a fairly new member. Dr Hakeem (or ‘Az’ to his friends), is a senior psychiatrist with so many professional qualifications that I joked I was sure he invented them.
Az is Consultant Psychiatrist at the Priory Hospital in Roehampton; he also has a Harley Street practice, among many other responsibilities, roles and engagements. Az and I would play tennis and, I’m fortunate to say, he has never yet beaten me, even though he’s given it his all. I enjoyed his company and we would sometimes have a drink or two after the committee meetings, where members voted me as Chairman and Az, my deputy.
I really enjoyed being Chairman of the Wimbledon Club’s Social Tennis Committee and as we continued to get to know each other better, over tennis and socialising, Az told me that he had been a Goth as a youth. This revelation nearly made me fall over, as Az and the Goth image are as far apart as you could imagine.
‘I’ll show you the photos,’ he said, which only made me laugh even harder.
I was asked to attend the Guild’s carol service at the oldest church in the City of London: All Hallows by the Tower. Whilst I am no choirboy, I joined in with the singing along with everyone else, as this was my Church: The Church of England.
The wave of issues over that month made time seem to fly by. With Lily back in London, we decided to meet up at the Troubadour pub in South Kensington on a rainy Saturday afternoon, where we both laughed and got even closer. Lily explained that I needed to decide whether she was the one, despite not being able see each other during weekdays due to her work with her fashion label, Bernhard Dyne. As a businessman myself, I completely understood and told her that I was thought she was girlfriend material, before we made each other laugh even more. When I then asked her why she felt I was of interest, her quip was equally good when she said, ‘You’re not bad looking, tall, strong, a good guy … and you crack me up!’
I told you she was cute! Unfortunately, a further meeting with Lily and her friend Ellie, back at the Troubadour pub for breakfast, was the last time I saw her.
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