Page 264 - James Caan - The Real Deal

The Real Deal

‘You must take a look at this site,’ or sent me a link. I didn’t know
how to find anything, so she explained Google to me. That was a
revelation, and I spent several days just looking at golf clubs because
I thought that playing golf was what semi-retired millionaires did.
‘What else can I do with the internet?’
‘You could try downloading music.’
‘How does that work?’
I’m not kidding; I spent about three weeks solidly making
playlists of the music I had missed out on during the previous
eighteen years. Then Sam told me about Photoshop and I spent
another couple of weeks touching up holiday snaps. Aisha would
ask me what I had been doing all day and I would show her a CD
I’d burned or an image I’d made of me meeting George Bush in
the White House.
Not only had I not known how to use a computer, but I didn’t
even know how to use an ATM! If I’d needed cash, I’d always
asked Jan to arrange it for me and I’d got used to just having cash
in my wallet. When I got down to my last few notes, I didn’t know
how I would get more.
‘Aisha, how do I get cash?’
‘You use your card, James.’
‘How do I do that?’
I didn’t even know about PINs and had to get the bank to send
me a new one. It was as if I had this split personality: half of me
was capable of running a multimillion-pound business and the
other half of me was clueless about some of the most basic things.
Jemma and Hanah were now sixteen and fifteen respectively,
and the single best thing about stopping work was getting to spend
more time with them. They were really great fun to be with, and
instead of just getting half an hour with them before they went to
bed, suddenly I was spending whole days with them. Really getting
to know these two fabulous young women who I was increasingly
proud to call my daughters was the most fun I ever had.

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