with freelancers!
'Who do you write for?' I ask politely, thinking at least I might pick up some tips.
'It depends,' he says shiftily. His eyes keep darting backwards and forwards, and he's refusing to meet my eye. 'I used to be on Monetary Matters. But they sacked me.'
'Oh dear,' I say.
Then the guy I've never seen before plonks himself down next to me. He's got dishevelled brown hair and smells of cigarettes, and is looking around with twinkling brown eyes.
'It's a joke, isn't it?' he murmurs, then meets my eye.
'All this gloss. All this show.' He gestures around. 'You don't fall for it, do you?'
Oh God. Another weirdo.
'Absolutely not,' I say politely and look for his name badge, but I can't see one.
'Glad to hear it,' says the man, and shakes his head. 'Bloody fat cats.' He gestures to the front, where three men in expensive suits are sitting down behind the table. 'You won't find them surviving on fifty quid a week, will you?'
'Well… no,' I say. 'More like fifty quid a minute.'
The man gives an appreciative laugh.
'That's a good line. I might use that.' He extends his hand. 'Eric Foreman. Daily World.'
'Daily World?' I say, impressed in spite of myself.
Gosh, the Daily World. I have to confess a little secret here – I really like the Daily World. I know it's only a tabloid, but it's so easy to read, especially if you're on a train. (My arms must be very weak or something, because holding The Times makes them ache after a while. And then all the pages get messed up. It's a nightmare.) And some of the articles in the 'Female World' section are actually rather interesting.
But hang on – surely I've met the Daily World's personal finance editor. Surely it's that drippy woman called Marjorie? So who's this guy?
'I haven't seen you around before,' I say casually. 'Are you new?'
Eric Foreman gives a chuckle.
'I've been on the paper for ten years. But this finance stuff isn't usually my scene.' He lowers his voice. 'I'm here to stir up a bit of trouble, as it goes. The editor's brought me on board for a new campaign we're running. 'Can We Trust the Money Men?''
He even talks in a tabloid voice.
'That sounds great,' I say politely.
'Could be, could be. As long as I can get past all this technical stuff.' He pulls a face. 'Never been good at figures.'
'I wouldn't worry,' I say kindly. 'You don't actually need to know very much. You'll soon pick up what's important.'
'Glad to hear it,' says Eric Foreman. He peers at my name badge. 'And you are…'
'Rebecca Bloomwood, Successful Saving,' I say, in my best networking manner.
'Glad to meet you, Rebecca,' he says, and fishes in his pocket for a business card.
'Oh, thanks,' I say, hastily reaching into my bag for my own business cards. Yes! I think triumphantly as I hand it over. I'm networking with the national newspapers!
I'm swapping business cards!
Just then the microphones all come on with a
screech of feedback, and a dark-haired girl at the
podium clears her throat. Behind her is a lit-up screen,
with the words SACRUM ASSET MANAGEMENT against a
sunset.
I remember this girl now. She was really Snotty to me at a press briefing last year. But Philip likes her, because she sends him a bottle of champagne every Christmas, so I'll have to give this new pension plan a nice write-up.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' she says. 'My name is Maria Freeman, and I'm delighted to welcome you all to the launch of the Sacrum Asset Management Pension Series. This is an innovative range of products designed to combine flexibility and security with the powerful performance associated with Sacrum.'
A graph appears on the screen before us, with a wiggly red line rising and failing above a thinner black one.
'As Graph 1 shows,' says Maria Freeman confidently, pointing to the wiggly red line, 'our UK Enterprise Fund has consistently outperformed the rest of its particular sector.'
'Hmm,' murmurs Eric Foreman to me, frowning at his brochure. 'So, what's going on here, then? I heard a rumour that Sacrum Asset Management wasn't doing too well.' He jabs at the graph. 'But look at this. Outperforming the sector.'
'Yeah, right,' I murmur back. 'And what sector would that be? The Crap Investments Sector? The Lose All Your Money Sector?'
Eric Foreman looks at me and his mouth twists slightly.
'You think they're fiddled their figures?' he whispers.
'It's not exactly fiddling,' I explain. 'They just compare themselves to whoever's worse than themselves, and then call themselves the winners.' I point to the graph in the brochure. 'Look. They haven't actually specified what this so-called sector is.'
'Well blow me,' says Eric Foreman, and looks up at the Sacrum team sitting on the platform. 'They're canny bastards, aren't they?'
Really, this guy has no idea. I feel almost sorry for him.
Maria Freeman is droning on again, and I stifle a yawn. The trouble with sitting near the front is you have to pretend to look interested and be writing notes, 'Pensions,' I write, and draw a swirly line underneath. Then I make the line into the stem of a vine and start drawing little bunches of grapes and leaves all the way along.
'In a moment I'll be introducing Mike Dillon, who heads up the investment team, and he'll be telling you a little about their methods. In the meantime, if there are any questions…'
'Yes,' says Eric Foreman. 'I've got a question.' I look up from my grapevine, slightly surprised.
'Oh yes?' Maria Freeman smiles sweetly at him. 'And you are…'
'Eric Foreman, Daily World. I'd like to know, how much do you all get paid?' He gestures with his hand along the table.
'What?' Maria Freeman turns pink – then regains her composure. 'Oh, you mean charges. Well, we'll be dealing with those…'
'I don't mean charges,' says Eric Foreman. 'I mean, how-much-do-you-get-paid? You, Mike Dillon.' He jabs at him with his finger. 'What are you on? Six figures, is it? And bearing in mind what a disaster the performance of 'Sacrum Asset Management was last year – shouldn't you be out on the streets?'
I'm absolutely gobsmacked. I've never seen anything like this at a press conference. Never!
There's a kafuffle at the table, and then Mike Dillon leans forward towards his microphone.
'If we could get on with the presentation,' he says, 'and… and leave other questions for later.' He's looking decidedly uncomfortable.
'Just one more thing,' says Eric Foreman. 'What would you say to one of our readers who invested in your Safe Prospects plan and lost ten grand?' He glances briefly at me and winks. 'Show them a nice reassuring graph like that one, would you? Tell them you were 'top of the sector?''
Oh, this is fantastic! All the Sacrum people look like they want to die.
'A press release on the subject of Safe Prospects was issued at the time,' says Maria and smiles icily at Eric. 'However, this press conference is restricted to the subject of the new pension series. If you could just wait until the presentation is over…'
'Don't worry,' says Eric Foreman comfortably. 'I won't be staying to hear the bullshit. I reckon I've got everything I need already.' He stands up and grins at me. 'Good to meet you, Rebecca,' he says. 'And thanks.' He extends his hand and I shake it, without quite knowing what I'm doing. And then, as everyone is turning in their seats and whispering, he makes his way along the row and out of the room.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' says Maria Freeman, two bright spots burning on her cheeks. 'Due to this…
