‘That’s the great thing about this project,’ De Chauncey continued. ‘It’s the penthouses that get the attention, of course’ – he motioned to another part of the display, where half a dozen suits were admiring a wall-mounted light – ‘but there are really no low-spec apts at YOLO. It all has the same attention to detail and top-rank design. You do deserve it, is what I’m saying, whatever price point you’re at. Are you considering making a purchase in the building?’

I have never felt further from a human being. He said this so lightly, as if I could just reach into my jacket pocket and bring out the £800,000 for a one-bed in YOLO. And there were people here who could do that, who bought flats like I bought cans, four or eight at a time. De Chauncey was a pro, so it was possible that this question was merely polite, and he was well aware that the wretch in front of him could not afford a flat. If that were true, he did a superb acting job, and I saw a man who moved naturally through climates of extreme wealth and privilege, far more extreme than even his own. And I could tell, just by looking at him, by looking at his suit and his haircut and smelling his fragrance, that the bath in his house did not touch the wall, you could walk all the way around it.

‘I’m a journalist, actually,’ I said. Better not say more.

‘Oh, right,’ De Chauncey said. There was no suggestion of disappointment, but his mien shifted angle – from sales to marketing. ‘What can I help you with today? Any questions? Don’t get me started, though, I can talk and talk about YOLO, it’s such a beautiful project.’

‘Yeah, there is one thing,’ I said, switching on the recorder in my phone. I had turned it off in the toilet, but not until after I had finished vomiting. That would all be on the first recording, crystal clear. ‘I had to leave during the presentation …’

‘I saw,’ De Chauncey said, with no obvious reprimand. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Fine, yeah, I was just … I felt a little light-headed.’

‘It can get a bit stuffy in a room like this,’ De Chauncey said. ‘You feeling better now?’

‘Fine, fine,’ I lied. ‘You had just mentioned your joint venture with Bunk Innovation, but I missed exactly what it was Bunk did for you.’

De Chauncey raised his eyebrows, enthusiasm lighting his face. ‘Right. Happy to talk about that. It’s beautiful, actually. We’ve been working with them for years on tenant management software. Let me explain properly. Say you own property as an investment.’

‘OK,’ I said. Never going to happen, but I could allow myself the miserable dream.