by JJ Marsh
I gazed at that screen in horror for hours, checking, recalibrating, making new risk-assessments, and generally fiddling while Rome burned. It was collapsing. It had collapsed. My job, my department, maybe the whole investment banking arm was spiralling out of the sky in flames. All of it gone. Jesus Christ, my bonus was due the end of this month. That cheque would have contained some zeroes. Possibly five of them. Now, realistically, I will be out of a job in days. Possibly five of them.
Realistically.
Jay barked a laugh, and a few tired eyes checked the lunatic danger level before closing again or returning to the headlines. In order to regain respectability, Jay picked up the newspaper that lay underfoot. No words registered, nothing made sense, which was entirely normal, as the sports page was uppermost. A flier slid out towards to the floor, and Jay caught it with a deft scoop. An advertisement for a course.
‘Under pressure? We can help. Learn the secrets of stress-management.’
Stress-management. Jay’s hands began folding.
Top right-hand corner to bottom left, making triangle. Press sharply along edge. Open. Top left to bottom right.
If realism had been in the game, none of us would be in this state. But no-one was realistic. The house of cards was holding up so well, we were all profiting; the bankers, the investors, the insurance companies, the home-owners, the debtors. All it needed to keep the dream alive was faith. Everyone, but everyone, believed that profit could be carved out of debt, and it worked. Collective force of will. We made it happen. The risks were minimal, alligators lurking in the sewers, out of sight, out of mind.
Boom.
But there are two kinds of boom. And one of them happens faster. Especially when the foundations are made of nothing more durable than cardboard. But when everyone tells you it’s OK, from the biggest eagle to the smallest wren, you have to believe it. I personally promise, I genuinely guarantee, we vehemently vouchsafe, I have in my hand a piece of paper …
Having folded diagonals, begin halving. In half horizontally. Open. In half vertically. Open. Hold as a bowl, bring diagonal points together.
Mouth dry as hell. Stomach totally empty. Pret-a-Manger’s free-range egg and tomato sandwich came straight back up in the executive toilets this morning. There’s some water in the briefcase. Lift the bottle and take a sip, steadying it against my chest. Whoops. Nearly chucked that up again. How long since I drank anything? No wonder my stomach has gone into shock. Lucky to keep the water down. Maybe this near-catatonic state might subside if I had something to eat. Food? No, spasm in the gut thinks otherwise. Intestine says no.
Smaller square. Fold in three corners to make kite shape. Briefcase on lap proves useful as flat surface to press creases. Unfold. Repeat on other side. Open outer flaps to make diamond.
All is not lost. It cannot be. I have overlooked something. We cannot lose this amount of money, I cannot lose this amount of money. I CANNOT! Hands clenching and stomach doing the chem lab gurgle. Close eyes and think. There must be a way out. A cash injection, a short-term bridge, something to tide me over, just till things recover. Paper money. All I need is something on paper to keep everyone happy. No one has looked twice at my figures up to now. I could even fake the results in the short-term, a spurious account, only on a temporary basis. Paper over the cracks. I just need more time, and I can create more money. I am a wealth-creator, but I need someone’s wealth to do it.
Fold separate triangles up, on the diagonal to make a W. Repeat on opposite side. Unfold to diamond once more.
For Sale. Auction due to repossession. For Sale. Contact Vendor. For Sale. Crisis. Crunch. For Sale. Sub prime. We’re calling in the debts. Now it’s time to reel them in. Real them in. But Collateral Debt Obligations oblige debtors to pay with collateral. You know, you could have worked that out from the name. But you didn’t, did you? Thought you were onto a winner, and our artistic wrapping and overwhelming confidence blew you into the twister along with everyone else. But collateral loses its value when everyone’s got it. The joke in the office today was that instead of a bonus, we’d all get four-bedrooms with a porch in the Bible belt.
Jay laughed again, a short, dry sound. Once could be disguised as a cough, but twice? Tension slipped along the carriage, entirely invisible but as tangible as a fart. People stiffened, angled themselves away, keeping the weirdo in their peripheral vision. Could be dangerous. Violent, embarrassing or both. Jay wanted to stand up and make a calm announcement.
I am neither weird nor violent, and as to embarrassing, you’ll have to make up your own minds. But market forces have lit a flame under my paper castle, and I am going to get very badly burnt. No, please do not look away, because this affects you too. Mortgage, madam? Well done for getting on the property ladder. Have to say though, bad timing, ‘cos house prices are about to go into freefall. Tenant, are you, sir? Well, that’s a shame, because your rent, electricity, water, transport and Sainsbury’s bills are all about to take a large hike. Oh, savings. Thank goodness you squirreled a bit away. Sadly, interest rates are likely to be your Nordic ice floes for a good few years, so don’t plan on retiring anytime soon. And I hope no-one here today has any debts.
Open side flaps, and fold up body and tail through wings.
What do you mean, who wins? No one. The fallout from this implosion makes everyone a loser. Listen mate, the winners have long since taken their almighty rewards and flown the roost. Now all we can do is sweep up the torn betting slips and pay the bookie.
A shiver rushed through Jay’s whole frame, and almost caused the paper creation to fall to the ground.
Mum.
Only six months ago, Jay’s mother had retired. After a lifetime of menial jobs from cooking at the school to cleaning at the bookies, May Lin could finally put her feet up. Pursue her hobbies, of which there were plenty. Cooking, Tai Chi, line-dancing and learning the Queen’s English. She could do a bit of travelling, go back East to see the long-lost and largely forgotten.
After years of scraping and saving, she could reap the rewards of educating her only child. Who was now finally able to repay the old dear. May Lin lived in comparative luxury these days, in a pebble-dashed terraced house, with a Nissan Cherry parked out front and most excitingly, she could afford to go to Marks and Spencer’s rather than Morrison’s. All due to Jay. But what would happen if the cash dried up? If there were no more cheques? Thank you for the paper money, May would say. Every time. Don’t mention it, Mum.
Choose one end as head. Fold tip backwards and forwards. Bend inwards and fold. Curl wings between fingers. Pinch neck and tail and pull. Bird will flap wings.
For the first time since the first rumblings of collapsing investment began, Jay sensed tears threatening. David Harker-Sams, who was now something massive at ABN Amro, once told Jay that investment bankers do not cry. Not unless they can sell tears on at a profit. Jay’s paper crane sat on top of the briefcase; arches, curves and grace, all created from nothing.
For myself, I don’t mind. I can sell the flat, get rid of the car, it’s only a liability now what with the congestion charge and tax whacks on SUVs, and I can grub around till I get another job. I can cope. If this was only about me, it would be a mild setback. But I can’t let Mum down. She shouldn’t have any more disappointments in her family. I’m all she’s got. I have to find a way to save her from all this. Please, please, don’t let this toxic confetti touch my Mum. Who am I praying to? Never had any faith in God. No return on investment there.
‘This is Baker Street. Change here for Bakerloo and Metropolitan lines.’
Jay placed the crane on the next seat and righted the briefcase.
“Excuse me?”
One of the painters leant forward. Jay said nothing but looked at the goateed youth.
“That bird you just made. I think that’s nice. If you don’t want it, can I have it?”
Jay handed him the crane, too tired to smile. The boy-man worked the wings of the refashioned leaflet. He smiled bro
adly and winked.
‘Next stop, St John’s Wood.’
Jay stood up, taking hold of the Jack Georges briefcase. The youth lifted the origami creation.
“Thanks for this. Hey, how about leaving me your number? As you can see, I’m a big fan of oriental birds.”
His older friend sniggered loyally.
Jay turned back to Painter Boy. “9413. Or in Cantonese, no chance.”
She strode off the train, cursing the absent trench-coat once more, as she headed for the exit.
The English Garden
July
I love it here! People are so friendly and open, and there’s such a sense of promise. I’m learning how this place works; there are a fair few strange sorts, but I mostly keep out of their way. Like everyone else, I feel a sense of renewal. The media, the government and the newly elected leader are full of optimism. What a change from his predecessor! What an orator! I’ve attempted to wangle my way into one of his speeches, but it’s impossible. Everyone wants to get close to this man, to hear his words. He’s like an old-fashioned hero.
August
I borrowed N’s press pass and finally got to hear him in person. He is so much more than I could have hoped. So inspiring! After years of stagnation and appeasement, this new leadership with its radical approach to social problems is like the thunderstorm after a long, hot, muggy drought. I’m passionate about change. It’s about time. His views on the blight of unemployment and the failing economy are stark but simple. We have to deal with the enemy within. This insidious force of malevolence to the free world must be halted.
September
Great excitement today! D called me from a restaurant to say that HE had just arrived. I leapt into a taxi and rushed there immediately. There was no hope of getting close, but I did see the back of his head as a wall of security officers escorted him out. Even so, such an amazing presence! My hands shook as if I had the palsy, and my tea spilt all over the table.
October
The wonderful thing is his humility. The way he uses himself as an example of what one can achieve.
I have won my successes simply because in the first place I endeavoured to see things as they are and not as one would like them to be; secondly, when once I had formed my own opinion I never allowed weaklings to talk me out of it or to cause me to abandon it. I will not be disloyal to these fundamental principles of mine.
I would never be a weakling. I see things as they are. My fundamental loyalty is unyielding. On the way home I bought a picture of him to put on the mantelpiece. The first few times I looked at it, I blushed.
November
Had a bust-up with J today. Her view is almost completely opposed to mine. She believes in acceptance and equality and similar hot air. She actually said, ‘Tolerance is the solution to this.’
Tolerance? Where has that got us? Yes, we let them all in, and how do they repay us?
I was patient. Listen, I said, if I go to a country where they have a certain way of doing things, I abide by those rules. When in Rome, and all that. I do not expect to go to another country, build my own kind of church, eat my own kind of food, and refuse to assimilate. If so, why on earth go there in the first place? She stormed off in the end, unable to deal with the truth of my argument. She’ll come round. Eventually.
December
I couldn’t get into the rally yesterday, but read his latest statement in the paper.
Opposite us are statesmen who – we must believe them – also want peace. However, they govern in countries whose internal construction makes it possible for them at any time to be supplanted by others who do not aim at peace. These others are already there.
I cut that out and sent it to J – I didn’t add a note. And would you believe it, just when I was all fired up, one of them sat right next to me on the bus home! I got so angry and bitter that these people who live and walk among us are such a threat to our security and our identity. How dare they? How DARE they?
January
Last night – it’s like he read my mind! His words have moved me to tears before now, but I sobbed my heart out at this.
We want nothing else than to be left in peace; we want the possibility of going on with our work, we claim for our people the right to live, the same right which others claim for themselves. Other states should grasp and understand this, for they never stop talking about equality of rights. If they keep talking about the rights of small peoples, how can they be outraged if a great people claims the same right?
Alone in my room, I stood up, applauded, and cried. A great people; a great person.
February
Today was the most wonderful and beautiful of my life. I met him! Face to face. After months, my steadfast diligence has been repaid! Conversations with the security guards tipped me off that he was in town and would be dining in the usual place. For the thousandth time, I waited at the corner table with my book. A bustle of uniformed security announced him, waiters dashed to clear enough space and the doors burst open.
Every time, I try not to stare, but the charge of magnetic energy around this man is an irresistible force.
As his entourage passed, he stopped, and looked right into my eyes. The sensation was the same as gripping an electric fence. He gave me a smile and nodded a greeting. Mesmerised, I nodded back and he moved on. I dropped my book and was scrabbling to pull my things together so I could go home and faint in peace, when a security guard approached. He invited me to join their party. How my legs held me, I have no idea. A chair was placed right beside him. Beside him! And we talked. Well, I must have gibbered about all sorts, but I made him laugh at least once. I have to lie down now.
March
So we have come together on this day to prove symbolically that we are more than a collection of individuals striving one against another, that none of us is too proud, none of us too high, none is too rich, and none too poor, to stand together in this indissoluble, sworn community. And this united nation, we have need of it.
If only it were a united nation! Pockets of this religion here, that little culture there, all keeping to themselves, continuing in their own habits, subverting our values, our way of life. I know I upset a couple of old friends recently, but I truly do consider the appearance of those people an affront. Beards have always put me off, but coupled with all the rest of the ‘this-is-my-religion’ paraphernalia, I actually would prefer to avert my eyes. Dressing like that is a deliberate provocation.
April
He’s already invited me to join him no less than five times, and it’s not even Easter yet! I can’t tell you my delirium at being included by such an incredible statesman. He really wants to know what I think! We talk about politics often and he seems amused by my passionate support. I wrote a letter to the paper, which caused quite a hoo-haa, but my extreme tone was anything but accidental.
‘This excess tolerance for a religion and system of law that would topple ours to the ground must be yanked out by the roots.’
I’m rather proud of that. Especially as he liked it.
May
Seems I’ve become a bit of a poster girl for this new wave of national pride. First a magazine cover and now an editorial in the Daily Mirror. Some misguided people I know express outrage, and hurl all sorts of extremist accusations at me. Even the family are forced to take sides, but I know most of them agree with me. Deep down, we come from the same place.
June
I have never in my life been happier. Helping this country back on its feet, ridding it of this scourge, administering the right medicine, the balance is slowly being restored. I dreamt last night, dreamt of his words.
Remove of the internal enemies of the nation, terminate of the divisions within our country, gather up of the entire national strength of our people into a new community. I have rendered peace a great service, because I have rendered innocuous an instrument which was destined to become effective in war.
July
People have a habit
of searching for the salacious. No matter what I say, they are convinced our companionship means something else. I mean, how could it? He frequently invites me when SHE is there, and it’s hardly likely we’d be at it under her nose, is it? Mind, when he said, ‘Unity is very important to me,’ and winked, we were in absolute fits of giggles.
August
Things are getting ugly. As he often reminds me, such a harsh remedy would never be easy to swallow. We must not falter now. I feel torn in two, but my heart says he is right. We are right. One must look at what these people have done and would continue to do to our civilisation if left unchecked. We must remember who we are. What is the point in stating who you are if you cannot live up to it?
September
On 3 September 1939, Britain declared war on Germany.
Unity Mitford walked into Munich’s Englischer Garten, took out her pearl-handled pistol and shot herself in the head.
Number 22
All this is yours, my little duck. The moment your life begins, mine will end. I want you to appreciate every precious second. We’ll never meet, but I want you to run and love and dance and treasure each day in this beautiful world, because your life, like mine, will be short. Eighteen years of joy and sunshine, four years of breeding. Our twenty-second year must be our last. I go gladly, duckling. After so much happiness, I cannot yearn for more. I only wish I could see your face.
Number 22, your time is up.
Pitcher of a Lady
Truth be told, I had my doubts. One summer to make a lady outta me? I tried, the Lord will testify. But it didn’t come natural.
Aunt Louisa was a lady. Manners at table, dressed nice, smelling fresh and wholesome and you know what else? Not one spot of perspiration on that milk-pale skin. I ain’t never come across a body that don’t sweat. Guess she was trained. Like training a dog not to pee on the rug. Some dogs gotta stay in the yard; they never learn.