Dear friend..... (standard:other, 2124 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Dec 10 2008	Views/Reads: 3208/2126	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Geoff decides to follow through a seemingly spam email asking for money. How far does he go? and is it real?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

reply, and can guarantee you that this is genuine. I can guarantee it, 
because I can prove it. My sister's name is Tina Morgan, and she is 
currently in D-Wing of the Royal Constance medical institution. If you 
like, you can meet her. Please let me know when the best time would be 
for you. I thank-you in hopeful anticipation of your trust. Ags.' 

Ben read it again, and again, and the seed that had been planted
suddenly grew even more quickly. Royal Constance is five miles away, he 
thought, and nodded, deciding that he would follow it through. His 
sceptical mind, however, warned him to still be vigilant. This could 
all be part of a scam. He nodded again, agreeing with himself, then 
formulated a reply: ‘I am not sure when you will see this message, but 
the time now is 12:04pm. I am owed time off, and can visit this 
afternoon.' That was all he wrote, and he kept his email open and 
minimised while he worked, refreshing it everytime he maximised the 
screen. A reply came ten minutes later. ‘The Constance has a café' 
opposite its reception. I will be sat alone in a corner, or 
thereabouts, depending how full it is, reading a newspaper. I will meet 
you at 2pm. I thank-you again'. For the rest of his time at work, Ben 
could think of nothing else, and conducted his work almost on 
auto-pilot. On his way out, he bypassed Trevor who looked at him with 
curiosity. “You look as if you're going home,” he said. “Yes, the 
wife's got an appointment and wants me to go with her”. “It must be 
serious if you've left your desk. You never have time off. You must be 
owed about six years by now”. “Well...yes, see you tomorrow” Ben said, 
and walked across to the stairs. 

It took him two buses, and forty-five minutes to get there. He had two
minutes to spare, but saw that Ags was already there, sitting by a 
window, deep in concentration in a newspaper. Ben was almost reluctant 
to disturb him, and he stood staring for a few moments, apprehensive, 
like a nervous teenage boy trying to pluck up courage to approach an 
attractive girl, but he did, mainly because he realised he was starting 
to look suspicious, just standing there in a café', watching one of the 
customers. Ags looked up and smiled. He wore a wool fawn suit with a 
grey waistcoat, and sported a neatly trimmed beard that almost, but not 
quite suited him. He looked to be in his late thirties. “Benjamin 
Lowell?” he said. Ben nodded. Ags stood up and they shook hands. “It's 
nice to actually see a real person behind these emails” said Ben. “I'll 
bet most of them that are fake, you'll never see a person behind them,” 
Ags said, gesturing to himself. “I'm real. Tina is real. This is all 
absolutely genuine, and I really do appreciate you coming. Come this 
way, I'll take you to her”. He gestured to the exit, and they both left 
the café, and Ben followed Ags to the second floor. They chatted 
casually along the way, and Ben came to realise that there was nothing 
extraordinary about him. He seemed normal enough. Not somebody he would 
particularly bother about making friends with, but a decent individual 
with common characteristics. “...and that's why I don't drink herbal 
tea. Here we are”. They reached the ward and Ags walked to a door and 
pushed through into a smaller corridor, and to a door on the left which 
he opened and entered. Ben found that they were in a small room, 
containing a bed, a chair that looked to be taken from an outdoor café, 
a respirator, and drip feeding glucose intravenously to the occupant of 
the bed. There was a sheet covering most of the person, but Ben could 
see that it was a woman who he would guess at being around thirty-five 
to forty. “That's my sister,” said Ags, with a sigh. “She needs a lot 
of expensive treatment” “Isn't this the NHS? Isn't this free?” He spoke 
quietly as though he may wake her. “She doesn't trust authority. Or 
people who want all sorts of information about her, so she never signed 
up, never got insured. Always believed in natural cures. Bit of a free 
spirit is my Tina. A bit of a hippy really, but now she needs all the 
help she can get. If she hadn't have got in the car with her now 
ex-boyfriend who had been drinking in a wine-bar, who then ended up 
ploughing into the back of a HGV, who incidently, only got away with a 
broken shinbone, and now has a permanent limp, she wouldn't be lying 
here now, fighting for her life”. Ben simply stared at her for a while, 
the regular beep the only sound, telling him she was still alive. 
“Alright,” he said. “How much is it you need again?” “The cost could 
vary. Nothing is certain. I only mentioned £2100 as a rough estimate. 
If you give me your bank details, I will take only what is needed”. Ben 
nodded. “Small price to pay,” he said. 

Two days had passed since Ben had left Ags at the hospital, and despite
his trusting of him, he was still apprehensive when he checked his bank 
account on the computer, especially when there was a two-second blank 
screen before the total appeared. It was exactly as Ags had said. £2100 
had come out. Should any more be needed, Ags had promised to let Ben 
know beforehand. So far, there was nothing, and Ben's account was still 
healthy. “Working again,” said Trevor, appearing behind him, eating a 
chocolate bar. “Yes, it never ends. It's got to be done”. “Yes, but, 
seriously. A man needs a break sometime”. He wandered across to the 
window, looked down at several people milling around at the entrance, 
smoking, took a bite of his bar, and walked across and sat at his desk, 
firing up his computer. A few minutes later, he checked his email. 
“Hey, Ben” he said, swivelling on his chair, “I've got an email from 
that one who sent you a message the other day, sobbing about how he 
needs our bank details for his sick sister”. Ben swivelled and smiled. 
“It's real,” he said. “I didn't want to tell you, but I might as well. 
I followed it through. I met Ags, and I saw his sister”. There was a 
few seconds of silence between the men. “Really?” said Trevor, 
finishing his bar and putting the wrapper in his waste-bin. “Yes, you 
can trust him”. Ben told him more of what had happened, and Trevor 
nodded, saying: “OK, right. I suppose I'll send him my bank details 
incase he needs anymore. It can't be left just up to you”. He turned on 
his chair and began formulating a reply. “I wonder how she is, Tina,” 
said Ben. “I'll give the hospital a call to check”. Previously, Ben had 
intended to do just that, and had written down the number of D-wing. He 
picked up his telephone and dialled. As he did, he minimised his work, 
and logged into his bank account to check his money again. The phone 
was answered on the other end. “Hello,” he said, “sorry to bother you, 
I was wondering if you could please give me an update as to how a Miss 
Tina Morgan is. The woman in room 2A”. “You mean the woman in the 
coma?” “Yes, that's her”. The white screen appeared before his account 
came up. “A Mrs Bernice Montgomerry, she's been there for two months”. 
His bank account showed zero. His money had been cleared. “There, I've 
done it,” said Trevor, “I've sent my bank details”. He swivelled on his 
chair. “Hey,” he said, “You know what Ags probably stands for don't 
you? Another gullible sucker”. 


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