The Planner(26)

‘Now do you remember why you avoided doing public consultations for so long?’ said James.

‘At least when they’re being racist, they’re not behaving like customers. There’s a bit of community sentiment going on. That’s something.’

James went through the yellow comment cards. It was as he’d expected. There was a problem with the masterplan, and it had nothing to do with the building materials or traffic projections. It wasn’t insurmountable, and once upon a time it wouldn’t have counted for anything at all, but it was there – a gnawing, intangible, pervasive problem that made all the other ones much more difficult. The project was unpopular. It wasn’t just the public art, it was the whole thing. True, it was difficult to get the public to express a cogent opinion – but when they did, it was unambiguous. People didn’t like it.

In a way, this wasn’t such a surprise. James knew that humans can get nostalgic for pretty much anything: brutalised childhoods, major wars, discredited education systems, uncomfortable and inefficient forms of transport. It was just the same with the houses they lived in. For, incredibly, most of the residents of Sunbury Square actually seemed to like where they lived. They liked the totalitarian housing units with their grey walls and poor insulation, they liked the cramped doctors’ surgeries and the tarmac playground that their children were always breaking their arms on. Or, at least, they didn’t want anyone to change it.

‘You mustn’t let it get to you. So what if they don’t like what you’re trying to do. It doesn’t mean that you’re wrong.’

James had stopped listening. He was looking at his poster again. Yes, it had been made on a computer and none of it was real and yes, he had spent so much time with it that what he saw were now largely his own projections. But did that matter? The main thing was that there existed a vision for London, or at least a small part of it, and they could always extrapolate from that. An orderly, sunny, energy-efficient vision of how things should be.

‘You’re doing that thing again,’ said Rachel suddenly. ‘You’ve been doing it all morning.’

‘What thing? What am I doing?’

‘That staring-into-space thing. You might think you’re being mysterious, but it just makes you look gloomy. And women hate gloomy men. Moody and melancholy: yes. Gloomy and grumpy: no. If you’re not careful, you’ll succumb to self-pity, and then you’ll really be fucked. It’s only a shopping centre. It’s not like we’re working in an African coal mine.’

She was right, of course: it was only a shopping centre. Although James often thought that he’d be perfectly happy working down a coal mine provided Adam, Carl and everyone else he knew was working there too.

‘You’re right,’ said James. ‘It’s only a shopping centre.’

James had a vision for Sunbury Square, but did he have one for himself? Well, yes – and it wasn’t so very gloomy. He was thirty-five years old and he lived in a pleasant, if distant, suburb in West London, or possibly Nottingham. It was a Friday night and he had just gone with his pretty girlfriend, who looked a bit like Rachel, to the cinema. The film wasn’t as good as they’d been led to expect but they’d quite enjoyed it all the same. Afterwards, they had had two drinks each at a pub and then they had travelled back on the last train, followed by a short walk to their flat, which they were able to afford because they had a joint income, and which had maintained its value despite the prevailing market conditions. It had, in short, been a satisfactory evening in what was generally a satisfactory life. And what was so wrong with that? His job wasn’t as well paid as Carl’s, his home wasn’t as big as Adam’s and his girlfriend was less socially confident than Alice. But that was only a problem if he made it one, and besides – nowadays, he rarely saw any of these people.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘You’re right. I need a girlfriend. And I also accept that in order to get one of those, I’ll need to go on a date. Do you think you can get me one?’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Rachel. ‘I’ll get you one.’





6

15 February

The 2,000-year history of London has been one of constant change. It has grown from a port and river crossing point into a bustling centre of national government.

– The London Plan, Section 1.2



‘I suppose you must have chosen this place for its competitive pricing strategy,’ said Laura.

James smiled bravely. The main thing was to concentrate on the positives, to learn lessons, improve his technique and not make a total fucking idiot of himself. This was, after all, the first date he had been on for some time and he shouldn’t expect either of them to enjoy it.