Chapters (35)
- Cover
- Praise for Other People’s Money
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Service of Thanksgiving
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- The End
- Acknowledgements
- A Note on the Author
- By the Same Author
- Also Available by Justin Cartwright
She feels lonely now. She can’t talk to anybody, she hasn’t got a boyfriend and she doesn’t think she has the ruthlessness for this. Yes, it may be that the boss of Tubal’s has committed a fraud, but she wonders whether that’s so uncommon in the financial world. They all seem to have been guilty of a kind of fraud by pretending they knew what they were doing with other people’s money. She read that in the dealing rooms they would shout ‘OPM’ gleefully as a deal went bad: Other people’s money. It was exciting until she met her source; somehow his desperate seriousness, his grudge or whatever is driving him, has taken the whole business out of the realm of an adventure, into something more ugly, more banal. She has made a category error (philosophy, module 7) by confusing one sort of thing with something entirely different. But the editor is like an old warhorse – she understands the phrase now – trembling with anticipation at what’s to come. Perhaps after the humiliation of editing a pretty poxy provincial newspaper – Two Redruth boys make Ripcurl surf final in Durban – he sees bringing down the high and mighty Trevelyan-Tubal family as a last hurrah.
She rings her best friend from uni, Ruth.
‘Hello, babe.’
‘Hello, slapper.’
‘Do you want to have a bite tonight?’
‘Who’s paying?’
‘Me.’
‘Have you come into money?’
‘No, I’ve fiddled me expenses.’
‘Pizza Express?’
‘Lovely. I’m free at six-thirty.’
‘OK, babe, see you there.’
‘Mel, is anything wrong?’
‘No, I just felt like a girlie chinwag. I haven’t seen you for – what? – a week?’
‘OK. Love your blog, by the way.’
‘Really?’
‘Totally. Everyone’s talking about it. I’ve told them that I give you all the ideas.’
‘Oh, thanks.’
‘See you then.’
She calls her mother.
‘Hi, Mum, I won’t be home for tea. I’m having a pizza with Ruth.’
‘That’s all right, sweetie. I was only going to make some spag Bol. You used to love it. Your suit’s back from the cleaner’s. See you later.’
‘Don’t wait up.’
‘If the light’s on, pop in to say goodnight to the dinosaurs.’
Her mother has become a little desperate since her brother took a job in Winnipeg. The gravitational pull is deserting the family and she can’t bear it.
Chapter 17
Chapter 17