Relationships and money
friends or enemies
friends or enemies
I am an old-fashioned girl with classical
values like marriage, loyalty and a little black dress. I was brought up in the
family where parents were faithful and loved each other till death parted them.
That set the best example for me and I always assumed that’s how all couples
should be – happy and in love, just like my mum and dad were.
As I started navigating my career
through London, I realised that what my parents had was no longer a norm – they
were a pleasant exception in the society that was moving fast and relaxing its
standards even faster. Loyalty was no longer fashionable, cupid became worldly,
and even the little black dress evolved past all the boundaries of propriety.
Not that I was thinking about it
on that rainy Friday morning, but when I got to the office I found a message
from my colleague. He was asking me if I could look after this VIP who was
supposed to use our office for a couple
of hours first thing in the morning.
The said VIP showed up almost
immediately. He was charming, wealthy and very hungover. I’ve met his type
before – experts at smart investments and cashing in at the right time, they
are also very skilled at bed hopping.
Used to dealing with pretentious
rich capitalists, I settled him down at a desk in front of me and fixed him up
with a coffee and a large paracetamol. He was one of those extroverts who
couldn’t stop talking, even with a pounding headache. Within half an hour I
knew that he had three kids, two dogs and more money than sense.
There was also a Mrs VIP who was
a lady of leisure. She didn’t trust him for a minute on his own and he was
strangely proud of it. I knew that after three kids and two dogs there was only
one reason for a woman not to trust her man. He had a history of double dipping
and was caught and his pants around his ankles more times than he cared to
remember. (If I had a pound for every
man I knew with a similar story…)
He told me that to clear out his
playground, he sent her to Miami on his private jet to catch up with her
sorority gals. The trip was mainly about designer shopping, sipping cocktails and
lusting after a pool boy. In fact, he was certain they weren’t just lusting...
But in his own words – what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
“Do you trust her?” – I ventured.
There was a pause. I couldn’t be sure if he was thinking or battling the next
wave of nausea and headache. “Yes, I guess I do” - he finally managed. “But you
just said what you don’t know…” - I began. “Oh please, pool boys don’t count” -
he interrupted and waved my comment off.
Like many other City men he was
all about money. He called for his chauffeur and while waiting, he showed me
pictures of the the new penthouse he had just bought in Kensington. He asked if
I had any plans for that weekend, I told him I was fully booked.
When he left, he was still
hungover and still looking for trouble. And as I watched him leaving the office
(but not before he blew me a kiss and winked at me) I couldn’t help but wonder,
in the world of the City and wealth, did we evolve past loyalty and
faithfulness? Did the value of money become more than the value of
relationships?
With my thoughts I immersed
myself into spreadsheets and bank statements. I found a discrepancy and went to
my boss’ office to ask if he knew anything about it. I entered his office as he
was just finishing a phone call with his wife. ‘Bye darling, have a good day’,
- his voice resonated across the room.
My boss is an old school
gentleman. Kemble and Oxford graduate, he married his university sweetheart. A
few years later he came into a substantial inheritance which he promptly
invested filling up his bank accounts with more money than he bargained for.
Two kids, one dog and way too
many cars later he stayed exactly where he was all those years ago – true to
his values and in love.
I smiled. Maybe there is a hope
for us yet. Or maybe, just like my parents, he is an exception.
