The Deal Hunter

The holidays are over at last, and B is at work.  The pinstripe jacket is over the back of the chair, the bowler hat has been dusted and is resting nonchalantly on top of the filing cabinet, the pewter pheasant perched on top, the laptop is open on the corner of the desk, both screens of the PC are on, prices scrolling with elegant deliberation across the right hand one.  And in the high backed chair is B himself; hair shorn like a summer lawn, shoes polished to sergeant major standard, a suitable expression of frowning concentration keeping the double chin taut, his eyes focused on the left hand screen.

So let’s move round behind him and see if we can get a glimpse of the great financier at work, of an epoch making deal in final structuring before we read about it in gushing praise from the FT.

The right little finger presses a keyboard button and a tantalising glimpse of the screen seems to show black and gold and the words “Holland and...” before they are replaced by the sobriety of a rate sheet; maybe a very prestigious deal for the Kingdom of the Netherlands?  “Yes, dear boy?”

“Oh, nothing much B, do you think we could look at the second quarter results when you are not so busy?  We need to send them upstairs.”

“Of course, my old duck, maybe this afternoon?  Bring me a macchiato next time you happen to pass the machine could you?  And a Kitkat”

B picks up the phone as we move away and by walking very slowly perhaps we can pick up the theme of the deal:

“Hi, Harry, I’ve moved the diary around, and I could do that partridge day on the 21^st, very kind of you indeed.  And, look, we’re taking a day at Snizort on 14^th January, some very late well trained seriously high pheasanties.  Just your thing.  Would you come to that, be lovely if you could....”

The bank better check its deal targets for the year, because if B hasn’t done his share by now, there won’t be much else getting booked in the P&L this quarter under his name.  The season is started, the leaves are beginning to turn, the woodlands beckon; the bowler’s in the office and the flat cap is in the Rangie.

Oh yes, the holidays are over and the top sportsman is seriously at work.