The Planner(57)

James was being flattered, and not just by anyone. He was being flattered by the host, the richest and most important person there. He wanted very badly to please him, to do something to make his handsome face smile.

‘Not at all! It’s actually really good to meet them. Planners can be rather an insular bunch – it’s good to get out with the people we should be working with.’

‘Well, that’s a very healthy attitude,’ said Simon. ‘It’s refreshing to meet a planner who thinks that way. As you’ve probably heard, Southwark is a particular interest of ours, but we’ve not always found it as straightforward as it should be.’

‘We ought to do something about that,’ said Felix. ‘Maybe you can talk again after the evening’s entertainment.’

But when they went back out, the mood was sombre. The match had started again, and already the red team were winning 1–0. It wasn’t obvious to James when or how this had happened, but the fact was incontrovertible and, apparently, not even that surprising.

‘Well, I was afraid something like that was coming,’ said Felix.

‘It’s no good defending as deep as this if we can’t even get the basics right,’ said Robert.

‘Hopeless,’ said Adam. ‘If we can’t deal with set pieces then we might as well go home now.’

Angus shook his head and swore with great effort but very little imagination. It was remarkable how cross he was about what was happening down below on the pitch. Although, James himself was also far more dismayed than he’d ever expected to be. Everything else – the lager, the property developers, the sausages – had been so good, it seemed a shame that the evening was now being ruined by something as arbitrary and pointless as a football match. It just didn’t seem very fair – after all, everyone had agreed that the other team weren’t very good, and that Chelsea ought to win. Clearly, it was necessary for there to be some element of uncertainty in football, James could see that, but did it have to be this evening?

Sensing that there was nothing he could say or do to improve the situation, James went back inside to have another beer and eat some more chips. Having a lot to drink was essential in these circumstances. Inside, people were gloomily sipping their drinks and shaking their heads at the screen. It felt, for the first time that evening, as if the country was in the midst of an economic depression.

‘I’m sorry that the game is proving to be a disappointment,’ said Simon. ‘I was promised that we were going to win this comfortably.’

James realised that his host cared very little for football. Nor did he seem particularly interested in the hospitality he was providing – he held a glass of beer like everyone else, but made no sign of drinking from it. He spent much of his life surrounded by the highest quality food and drink, but was a master of deferred gratification, and foregoing pleasures in return for greater rewards.

‘So, do you think we’re going to be able to work together?’

‘Yes,’ said James. ‘I think that’s a very good idea.’

Simon held out his hand, and James gave it a good shake. It wasn’t entirely clear what they had agreed to, but it was nice that they had. At that moment, Robert came through to join them, as if he had been called over on a sub-audio frequency.

‘Now, Robert, you’ve been chatting to James, and it sounds like we’ve got an ally in Southwark at last.’

‘Yes, I think James is the kind of man we can do business with.’

‘As Robert probably told you, we’ve got a number of potential projects in your patch. Sunbury Square is a particular interest – we submitted at the EOI stage, of course, but haven’t quite decided what to do next. I think the team had a few issues which we couldn’t make work.’

James could see that Simon had a worldview, and there was a wonderful purity, maybe even a naivety to it. He just wanted to make as much money as he possibly could. He didn’t necessarily want to spend it, he just wanted to accumulate it. It was touching, in a way, while at the same time it gave him a strong sense of purpose and competitive edge.

‘Well, I’d be very happy to talk those through with you. Is it a problem with the density targets?’

There was a huge and startling roar outside, which half a second later was repeated on the television. Felix came back into the room.

‘Okay, you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve equalised. There isn’t long to go now, so you need to come out and get a bit Nuremburg with the rest of us.’

James allowed a flicker of irritation to pass over his face. He would have liked to have continued the conversation with Simon, to drink some more beer and say something helpful and clever.