Michael Ridpath - Free To Trade

The Gloucester Arms was by no means the most attractive pub in London. But it was my local. I probably spent more time in there than I should, unwinding from the day's tensions, reliving good trades and forgetting bad ones. As I sat in the corner watching the laughing, gesturing crowd of people, and slowly sipping a pint of Yorkshire bitter, the cauldron of competing anxieties that had been bubbling in my head cooled down to a gentle simmer. Debbie, Joe, Piper and Tremont were still all there in the background, but I could worry about them properly tomorrow.

I looked up and saw Rob's chubby face over the other side of the room. He caught my eye and pushed through the drinkers towards me. Every now and then we would have a beer in the Gloucester Arms. He lived quite close, so the pub was convenient for both of us.

'Hi. Can I get you another?' he asked. I nodded my assent, and he was soon back with two pints of Yorkshire.

He took a deep swallow of his, closed his eyes and loosened his shoulders. 'I needed that,' he sighed.

'Bad day?'

'You could say that,' Rob said. He shook his head. 'It's my own fault. I bought a load of Bunds yesterday, because I thought today's money supply figures would be lower than expected.'

'So what's the problem?' I asked. 'You were right, weren't you?'

'Yeah. The market went up a point. But instead of taking my profit, I bought more.'

'Why?'

'I don't know, it just felt right. Then that bastard Poehl says that the Bundesbank is still worried about inflation despite the good money supply figures, and the market came off a point and a half.'

'Oh dear,' I said, as neutrally as possible.

'That's right,' said Rob. 'Oh dear. I don't know why I didn't sell right after the figures came out.'

Rob stared gloomily into his pint. I didn't know why he hadn't sold either. But then I didn't understand why he had put on the position in the first place. He had no carefully worked out reason for thinking the money supply figures would be low. It was just 'gut feel'. That was certainly not the way Hamilton would have played the situation, but then more traders were like Rob than like Hamilton.

Rob looked up from his beer. 'That was quite some trade Hamilton did yesterday, wasn't it?' he said. 'I couldn't work it out. Neither could Jeff. In fact I think it upsets him a bit.' Rob reported to Jeff Richards.

'What does?' I asked.

'Hamilton calling the market right all the time.'

'Well, Jeff does all right himself, doesn't he?' I said.

'Yes, he does, on the whole,' Rob said. 'But he can spend days poring over economic research and statistics before deciding which way the market will go. He then has to wait weeks sometimes for the market to catch up with him. I think seeing Hamilton call the market just right, against all that fundamental analysis, irks him. How does he do it?'

'He thinks of everything,' I said. 'He leaves as little to chance as possible, and when the odds are heavily stacked in his favour, he makes his move. You can learn a lot from him.'

'I can see that,' said Rob. 'Bit of a cold bastard, though, isn't he?'

'Yes, I suppose so,' I said. 'But he is fair. I like working for him. Seeing him in action, like he was yesterday, is quite incredible.'

He was a great man to learn from, I thought. One day, if I watched and listened closely, I would be just as good as Hamilton. Secretly, I thought I could be better. That was my ambition. And I was determined enough to make sure I achieved it.

Rob nodded his head in agreement and sipped his pint. 'Aren't you going on a boondoggle soon?' he asked.

'Boondoggle? I am about to embark on a gruelling business trip, if that's what you mean.' I smiled at him.

'To Arizona?'

'Yes, to Arizona. Although I am going to spend a few days in New York beforehand, to catch up with what is happening on Wall Street. And then of course I will have to spend a day in Las Vegas to check out the Tahiti.'

'If that isn't a boondoggle, I don't know what is,' said Rob. 'Mind you, I have an exciting trip ahead of me myself.'

'Oh yes? I didn't know Jeff approved of the expense.'

'Well, he has made a special exception in this case. It's a two-day seminar on central bank approaches to controlling exchange rates. It's in Hounslow. Do you want to come? I hear Hounslow is very nice this time of year.'

'Very kind of you, but no thanks,' I said. 'Anyway, enough of work. How's your love life?'

Gloom instantly returned to Rob's face.

'Not so good?' I asked.

'Terrible,' Rob answered.

'You are still chasing Cathy Lasenby, I take it.'

Rob nodded miserably. 'I had this great idea,' he said. 'Cathy has been avoiding me, there is no escaping that. But I wasn't going to let her go, just slip away. So I thought I ought to engineer something.'

Rob took out a cigarette and lit it. I hardly ever saw him smoke; never at work, and only occasionally outside, when he was worked up about something. 'I sent her a fax,' he went on. 'I said I was impressed with her ideas on the treasury market, but that before doing business with her, I and my colleagues wanted to meet her properly. So I suggested dinner at Bibendum in Chelsea.'

Rob saw my puzzled expression and laughed. 'I signed it John Curtis of Albion Insurance.'

'You did what?' I exclaimed.

'She had told me that Albion Insurance was her biggest prospective customer. She had to come. I gave her De Jong & Co.'s fax number to reply to, so that Curtis wouldn't find out what was going on. Sure enough, she replied.

'Well, I booked two tables for eight, one in the name of Curtis for four, and one in my name for two. I arrived ten minutes early, and propped up the bar. I don't know whether you have ever been to Bibendum?'

I shook my head. 'No, but I've heard of it.'

'It's quite stylish. It's in the old Michelin Building, 1920s architecture, great service, delicious food. A good choice. Anyway, Cathy arrived ten minutes late. She looked stunning in a black dress that showed everything off. The waiter led her past me to her empty table, which was right by where I was standing. She made a half-hearted attempt to ignore me, but couldn't really get away with it; she was only ten feet away.

'She caught my eye and I walked over to her table. We both discovered we were waiting for someone-I told her I was waiting for my uncle. She agreed to have a drink with me at the bar. She was nervous, and looked like she needed one.

'I ordered a bottle of Taittinger, saying that my uncle always drank it, and would order one anyway. We had a glass and then another glass. Cathy took a while to relax. She told me she was very keen to make a good impression on Curtis. After a while she wound down.

'By nine o'clock neither my uncle nor Curtis had turned up. I suggested that if they didn't show up in the next ten minutes, we should have dinner together. She agreed. Not surprisingly, nobody showed. The dinner was marvellous. The champagne flowed. We had a great evening.'

'So far, so good,' I said.

Rob smiled to himself as he took a swig of his beer. 'We had just finished a terrific summer pudding, and were sitting back replete, when Cathy said that she was glad that Curtis hadn't made it. We agreed it had been a wonderful evening. And then

'Don't tell me,' I said, seeking refuge in my pint. But there was no escape.

'Then I told her that I had set the whole thing up. My uncle wasn't coming. Curtis and his colleagues weren't coming.'

'And she didn't like that?'

'She didn't like that,' Rob admitted. 'She didn't like that one little bit.'

'What did she do?'

'She went wild,' Rob said. 'She went bright red. She said she had never been made such a fool of. She said I was devious and totally untrustworthy.' Rob paused, clearly uncomfortable at the memory of the scene. 'I told her that I loved her, and I knew she loved me.'