It was actually even worse now. A few people had left, but many more had turned up, and he couldn’t at first see where he would be able to sit. It had got much noisier, and the average age seemed to have fallen even further. There was still no sign of Harriet. He sat down in front of a peculiar-looking girl who didn’t seem to be talking to anyone else. Maybe she was lonely? She had a wide nose and big gums, and if they had been at school together in the East Midlands, she would be the sort of girl you would safely befriend. But this was Camden, and a different set of aesthetic criteria, criteria that he didn’t fully understand, had to be applied. And so James decided that he would try to sleep with her instead.
‘Hi, I’m James,’ he said.
‘I’m Cordelia,’ she said. ‘What are you?’
‘I work in planning,’ said James.
‘Oh, like in advertising. That’s really cool.’
‘No, a different type of planning. I’m a town planner.’
Cordelia looked at him blankly. It was clear that she had terrible manners.
‘What do you do? Do you work? Are you a student?’
‘I’m a jewellery designer,’ she said.
James looked at her unhappily. He should have guessed – she was wearing the biggest and ugliest bracelet he had ever seen. A lump of red plastic, possibly a melted Lego block, with another yellow block screwed on top.
‘Oh, that’s really great. I was actually admiring your bracelet. Did you make it yourself?’
‘Yes, that’s right, and this necklace as well, and these rings.’
James hadn’t noticed before, but now that he looked more carefully he saw that everything she was wearing was preposterous. She looked like the housing estate mural, a childish arrangement of primitive objects and bright colours. She looked mentally ill. Was it just that she was hopeless at jewellery design or was he missing something important? After all, he was probably at least four years older than her.
‘So, did you study jewellery at college?’
‘No, I taught myself. I just seem to have a flair for it.’
‘Yes, I can really see that.’
It was a shame, but they had run out of things to say. What, after all, could a jeweller and a town planner talk about? The scale was all wrong, and neither of them had the charm or imaginative powers to overcome their predicament. And now James was certain, absolutely certain, that she wasn’t in the least bit attractive.
There was still no sign of Harriet, but he hadn’t entirely given up. He took another gulp of beer and this time he went over to the other side of the room, as far away from the music as he could, where a young man was sitting on his own with his back against the wall. James sat alongside him and leant over.
‘Hi,’ said James, ‘I’m James.’
‘I’m Felix.’
‘Oh really? That’s funny. One of my best friends is called Felix.’
But this Felix didn’t seem particularly interested by the news.
‘So do you know Harriet?’ said James.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Felix. ‘Everyone knows Harriet. She’s a fabulous public asset.’
James realised that he had made another mistake. Young men were always so much worse than young women, but it wasn’t just that. There were several clues that James should have spotted before he even went near him. There were the formidable black-framed glasses and the feminine good looks, the crisp black clothing and neat dark hair. Most of all there was the way he sat, composed and impressively at ease with himself. He wasn’t squealing like any of the others – he was under thirty years old, but he was on his own, and didn’t look in the least as if he minded. He wasn’t even smoking or playing with his mobile phone.
‘So, are you a designer?’ said James.
‘I’m an architect,’ said Felix.
‘Oh really? I work in town planning. At Southwark Council.’
Felix nodded, but didn’t say anything.
‘So I expect you deal with planners?’
‘No, not really – I try to avoid them if I can help it. I like to keep more focused on the creative side of things.’
‘So who do you work for?’
Felix worked for an architecture company that even people who weren’t architects had heard of, and which was responsible for some of the most expensive and unnecessary buildings in the world. He was creating the future, rather than merely trying to improve it. He was designing museums and contemporary art galleries, international conference centres and retail complexes. Above all, he was designing hotels, which were now the most important buildings of them all.
‘Have you ever done anything in Southwark?’