‘Because this is the project we’ve been looking for, Sammy, don’t you see? Ever since we signed to the Giving Pledge, I’ve been wondering how the damned hell I’m going to get rid of the money. Seems to me it’s easier to make that sort of money than it is to get rid of it. Then Alex here came along and started talking about his ideas for a huge conservation project in Central America. It’s all about scale! That’s the secret to making a meaningful difference. All these other projects and charities that come to us . . . they’re just tiny islands of endeavour and good intentions. But as Alex here has pointed out to me, islands never thrive, darling! They’re too small, with too many middlemen taking their piece of the pie. I mean, you know what the egos of these guys are like. “My foundation this, my foundation that.” Fifty years from now, they’ll all be defunct! Lasting success means having a long-term vision, getting rid of the middlemen, streamlining the process to a single source of funds – and thinking big. If we want carbon stability then that requires biodiversity and abundance, and that can only be delivered on scale.’
Tara felt a ringing in her ears, a shrill high-pitched tinnitus that filled her head as the room spun around her in ever faster circles.
‘But why Costa Rica?’ her mother asked. ‘I mean, it’s so far away.’
‘I like that we have a connection with the place, for one thing.’ Momentarily, her father looked across at Tara and winked at her, oblivious that with every word, her world was collapsing around her. She could actually hear Alex’s voice in her father’s words; they were words he had said to her countless times over dinner, on the sofa, lying in bed . . . But now it was her father saying them, his eyes glittering with pride and excitement, a look Tara had seen so many times before. He loved nothing more than cutting a deal, so to save the planet at the same time . . . ‘But more than that, six per cent of the planet’s biodiversity lives within its borders and through this project, we now have an opportunity to protect that in perpetuity. Alex, our man with a plan, has thought it all through! He’s drawn up a comprehensive ten-year programme for developing the park, with a view to gifting it back to the Costa Rican people at the end of that time, although clearly with caveats attached. Lots of caveats. But I don’t envisage any problems – a quarter of the country is already in private protected ownership; conservation is their thing. Did you know that Costa Rica is on course to be the world’s first nation powered entirely by renewable energies?’
‘Bruce, you know I don’t keep a track of these things.’
‘Well, to be honest, neither did I. I didn’t even remember that I’d already written Alex here a cheque for five million dollars for his butterfly conservation initiative! I think Patsy must have handled it for me.’ He frowned, as if still baffled that he could have overlooked such a thing. ‘. . . But doesn’t that sum up the problem? There’s too many people doing lots of little things, when the time for that has passed! It’s already too late. The natural world is in crisis and what’s needed now is bold vision and big fortunes. There’s only a handful of people in the world who, like us, can make a difference on the scale that’s needed now.’ He looked at Alex proudly, placing a hand on his shoulder like he was his son. ‘I’m still not entirely sure how it’s all come about, but somehow over the course of our conversations this weekend, Alex has leveraged that little five mill donation into a billion-dollar endowment instead.’
How it had all come about? Tara knew.
‘A billion? All at once? Oh Bruce, don’t you think that’s a bit much?’
‘Darling, what have I just been telling you? Saving the planet can’t be done piecemeal. Growing populations, spreading human civilizations and climate change are overwhelming the earth’s resources. It’s no good breaking up our donations into a few million here and there; we can only make a meaningful difference by working at scale. By buying a vast chunk of land to actively foster reforestation projects and preserve the existing forest regions; only then can we lock down vast swathes of land into a permanent carbon storage state.’
Her mother was finally silenced. Tara hadn’t said a word. She wasn’t sure she’d even breathed in all that time. She felt removed not just from the conversation, but her own body.
‘Do you know . . .’ her father laughed, suddenly amused by something as he jabbed a finger in her direction. ‘I had thought you were introducing us to Alex because you two were an item! It never crossed my mind you were bringing him to me with an agenda!’ He wagged the finger affectionately, like he was indulging her mischief. ‘First it was the mother and child clinics, now this.’
‘Tara—’ Alex’s voice was like a blade glinting in long grass. It flashed, making her wince and draw back as finally, her eyes connected with his in a way she knew they never would again. He stared back at her with regret, and yet no regret either, and she remembered the conversation they’d had only this week about conviction. Be prepared to cross the line to get things done.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, setting down her glass with a visibly shaking hand and running from the room.
‘Piglet?’
She left the room in a whirl, her skirts blowing back against her legs as she grabbed her keys from the hall table and made for the front door. Alex’s footsteps were right behind her, his hand on her arm, stopping her.
‘Tara, this has nothing to do with us—’
She spun round and
