Майкл Ридпат - The Predator

Chris was surprised. He had assumed that Eric’s father was one of the gilded rich. ‘Will you move back here one day?’ he asked.

Eric shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’d like to, maybe, when I’m older.’

‘In one of these?’

‘Here, I’ll show you where I’d really like to live. It’s just around this corner.’

They motored on for a couple of minutes, and Eric brought the boat in quite close to the shore. There stood a modern white house, with curved elegant lines and large windows. In front of it lurked a pool, and a lawn that dropped down to the water. It wasn’t quite to Chris’s taste, but it was certainly startling.

‘Too modern for you, huh?’ said Eric, watching Chris’s reaction.

‘I know nothing about architecture.’

‘It was designed by Richard Meier.’ That meant nothing to Chris, and Eric saw it. ‘Well, anyway, I like it,’ he said.

Chris looked at the mansions all around him, built far enough apart that each was secluded from the other, but close enough that every stretch of water was spoken for. ‘Who lives in these places?’

‘Pop stars, mafia dons, investment bankers.’

For the first time it hit Chris that, for some, investment banking was not just a passport to a good salary, it was the key to serious wealth. He couldn’t quite believe he would ever live anywhere like that house, but he could believe Eric would. He realized that he was standing next to someone who would one day be a very rich man.

‘Are you serious about politics, Eric or was the Bush campaign just a one-off?’

Eric glanced at Chris and smiled. ‘I’m serious.’

‘But you can’t be a politician and an investment banker at the same time, surely?’

‘That’s not my plan. We do have professional politicians in the States. They go to law school and then spend their time knocking around Washington getting to know people. But I have a different strategy.’

‘What’s that?’

‘These days you need money to get to the top in politics. And it’ll only get worse. Campaign spending is rising and rising. So I figure I’ll make a ton of money first, and then go into politics. Bloomfield Weiss seems a good place to start.’

‘Makes sense.’ And it did, for Eric. Trust him to have it all worked out. Chris found it impossible to make plans more advanced than being grateful he had a job at Bloomfield Weiss and doing his best to keep it.

Eric turned the boat around and drove it back along the channel, the way they had come. Lenka’s raucous laugh floated up from the cockpit beneath them. ‘Can you take over, Megan?’ he asked. ‘I’d better go down and see the others.’

Megan took the wheel and Eric climbed down the ladder to the group below, who were quickly getting drunk. Chris stayed on the bridge.

‘Are you an expert pilot?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Megan smiled. ‘Eric and I have been out here a few times together. I can do the easy stuff.’

‘How long have you known him?’

‘Four years. We were at college together at Amherst. We’ve been going out for the last couple of years.’ She saw the look of surprise on Chris’s face. ‘You thought I was still in high school, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, no, no,’ Chris said.

‘You’re blushing,’ Megan said. ‘You’re a lousy liar.’

It was true. Chris could feel the heat in his face. ‘All right, I admit it,’ he said. ‘You don’t look twenty-two, or whatever you must be. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe, one day it will be. Right now, it’s a pain in the ass. Nobody takes me seriously. And people like you wonder why Eric’s going out with a schoolgirl.’

‘Oh, no, I can see why Eric would want to go out with you,’ said Chris, without thinking.

Megan glanced at him quickly to check whether this was just a smooth remark, but then she smiled. ‘You’re blushing again.’

Chris took a swig of his beer to hide his confusion. He really did find her quite attractive. She had a softness and a kind of calm composure about her that made him want to talk to her more.

‘Eric’s very ambitious, isn’t he?’ he said.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘He did brilliantly on the training programme. The way he always seemed to understand everything instantly on the course was amazing. I think he will go far.’

‘I’m sure he will,’ said Megan.

‘But he manages to be a nice guy with it,’ said Chris. ‘He spent a lot of time on the course helping the rest of us out. He didn’t need to do that.’

‘But it didn’t harm his career, did it?’ Megan said.

‘It could have done.’

‘But it didn’t?’

‘No, it didn’t.’

Megan looked ahead as she guided the boat round a buoy. ‘Sorry. That was unfair of me. Eric is very kind, and generous. But he’d never let anyone get in the way of his ambition.’

Chris raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you think he really will go into politics?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Megan, still concentrating on steering the boat.

‘Do you think he’ll get anywhere?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said again.

A thought struck Chris. ‘Not all the way? Not President?’

Megan smiled, as though Chris had just discovered a secret. ‘What Eric wants to do, he usually ends up doing. Never underestimate him.’

‘Wow.’ She couldn’t be serious. But someone had to be President, and Eric had as good a chance as anyone of being that person.

‘Don’t tell him I told you that,’ said Megan.

‘You didn’t tell me anything,’ said Chris. ‘But you sound...’

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t know. Unhappy with it.’

‘I like Eric. Very much. In fact I...’ She paused. Chris knew very well that she wanted to say that she loved him, but couldn’t, at least not to a stranger. ‘I like him,’ she said again. ‘But, please don’t take offence, I’m not wild about investment banking. Eric has real talent, and I wish he’d use it for something more useful.’

‘Going into politics can be useful. If he’s honest. Which Eric is.’

‘Possibly. The trouble is that Eric’s a Republican, and I’m not.’

‘Oh.’

Megan sighed. ‘Anyway. Things are going quite well at the moment. He likes what he’s doing, and I like what I’m doing, and although we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like, it’s great when we do.’

It was beginning to get dark. Lights seemed to emerge all around them from buoys, boats and the houses on the shoreline. Megan switched the boat’s own lights on.

‘You look too nice to be an investment banker,’ she said.

‘It’s not that bad.’

‘It sounds awful. Eric told me how they decided to fire the bottom quarter of the programme. And actually discouraging teamwork makes no sense to me.’

‘Bloomfield Weiss is a bit over the top,’ Chris said. ‘And, if I’m honest with myself, I try to ignore all that stuff. It’s a tough place. But I think I can handle it, and that gives me some pride.’

‘But don’t investment bankers just speculate with other people’s money and pay themselves obscene salaries with the profits?’

‘It’s not quite that simple.’ Megan gave him a look like she’d heard that before. Which she probably had, from Eric. ‘No, really. Investment banks provide the world with capital. The world needs capital to create wealth and jobs.’

‘So all those Wall Streeters are fighting world poverty every day?’

‘Not exactly.’ Part of Chris saw her point of view. His father would certainly have agreed with her. But if he was to do well at Bloomfield Weiss, and he did want to do well, then he would have to ignore that kind of thinking. Anyway, he didn’t want to argue with her. ‘What do you do? You live in Washington, don’t you?’