"Good to see you, Joe," he said. "But I thought you was on a promise tonight. What happened? Beryl give you the elbow?"

"Something came up at the hospital," said Joe.

"Better than washing her hair, I suppose." Merv laughed. "So how's business? Slow or stopped?"

The slur prompted Joe to tell Merv about Christian Porphyry. If he'd hoped to impress his friend he was disappointed.

"And this guy wants you to meet him at the Royal Hoo? And he's going to say you're applying for membership? Must be someone there he really wants to wind up! Give him the finger, Joe. He's using you. You don't believe me? Take a look at Sir Monty there."

Joe, ever a literalist, turned to look toward the table where Sir Monty was holding court with some of his directors. He found Sir Monty was looking back. Joe gave him a cheerful wave and got a nod in return, which was not to be sneezed at from a man worth a couple of billion and rising.

The Wright-Price supermarket chain had started from a flourishing corner shop owned by the Wright family in a Luton suburb. When Monty was eighteen, one of the big supermarket chains looking to expand had approached Wright senior with an offer for the business, while at the same time negotiating with the Council for the purchase of a small playing field adjacent to the shop. This looked a smart move, taking over a flourishing local business and acquiring enough land to expand it into a full-blooded hypermarket. With young Monty pulling his parents' strings, the sale of the shop was delayed and delayed until the day before the Council Planning Committee meeting which was expected to confirm the sale of the playing field on the nod. Fearing that if they went ahead with the land purchase before they'd got the shop, the Wrights would be in an even stronger bargaining position, the big chain caved in to most of their demands and ended up paying almost twice as much as their original offer.