Clapham Lights Read Free Page B

leather chairs, and, after a brief look at the drinks menu, clicks her fingers at a waitress and orders four bottles of Pinot Grigio, six Asahis and two sharing platters. She starts a tab on her MenDax American Express card and tells the others that she’s going upstairs for a cigarette.
    The drinks arrive in four ice buckets. Mark smiles at the waitress, who ignores him, and pulls out two beers, dripping water all over the table.
    ‘Who was your conference call with, Mark?’ Amy asks. She sips her wine and grimaces.
    ‘Just a contact from one of my other clients. I think it’s a non-starter though. I was explaining the investment options to this bloke, but he didn’t understand. The more simple I made it, the less he seemed to get it.’
    ‘Perhaps it was you he didn’t understand,’ Amy says.
    Mark doesn’t react. Ian sniggers and picks at the label on his beer bottle:
    ‘Any idea who Justin’s big deal is with?’
    Mark shrugs.
    ‘I heard him say something to Julia about having to go to Beijing,’Amy says, ‘but I don’t know any more than you two.’
    At the foot of the stairs, two tall men are blocking Justin’s path but he’s so far below their eyeline they don’t notice him until he squeezes between them and scurries across to the group.
    ‘Hey, the main man!’ Mark says.
    ‘No need to panic, I’m here.’ Justin climbs up onto a chair and takes a beer. ‘Why are you down here? It’s much better upstairs.’
    ‘It was Julia’s choice,’ Amy says.
    ‘Oh, fine.’ Justin looks around the open floor. ‘Anyway, the news: Julia and I have pulled off another massive coup. I can’t say too much, but it’s going to be huge for us.’
    Mark edges forward.
    ‘Who with?’ Amy asks, underwhelmed.
    ‘SomCop.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘SomCop,’ Justin repeats. ‘The Somali Maritime Cooperative. They’re in shipping.’
    They all look blank.
    ‘Shipping what exactly?’ Ian asks.
    ‘In their culture it’s disrespectful to ask too many questions but I’ve got all the info at the office. I think one of them mentioned sugar, or it might have been textiles-’
    ‘Or piracy,’ Amy suggests.
    ‘Possibly. That kind of industry anyway. All this is off the record of course until I make the announcement next week, so keep it to yourselves.’ Justin ogles the waitress as she slides two platters onto the table and rushes off. ‘I haven’t seen her before.’
    ‘She’s new,’ Mark says, popping three cocktail sausages into his mouth. ‘I think she’s foreign.’ He then gobbles a whole salmon skewer, pulls the stick out from between his teeth, swigs his beer and quietly burps. ‘Are we having a big one, Justo?’
    ‘Of course we are. Let’s get ON IT! No one’s going home before nine.’
     
    By eleven thirty, the lower ground bar is packed. There’s a DJ in the corner and a bouncer stands at the stairs leading to the basement nightclub . It’s hot and the air is thick with perfume. Near the MenDax table,three podgy City boys are all bellowing over the music trying to impress a woman in a low-cut top.
    Mark and Ian are onto their ninth Asahis and Amy is trying to avoid the gaze of a drunk man on the next table. Julia is sitting with two men from MenDax’s tax advisory department.
    Ian is trying to tell Amy about the house he’s buying with his girlfriend as Mark hums along to
Billie Jean
whilst watching a blonde girl at the bar. She catches Mark looking at her and turns her back.
    ‘Have I told you about my new place?’ Mark asks, interrupting.
    ‘Only about a hundred times,’ Amy says.
    ‘The old school, right?’ Ian says.
    ‘It’s a converted orphanage. It’s massive.’
    ‘How much are you paying?’
    ‘Just over two grand a month. So not that much for Clapham.’
    ‘That’s nearly three times my mortgage.’ Ian pushes his beer to one side and coughs.
    ‘We got a good deal through my flatmate’s property company. It’s a lot because of the location, and because it’s a