Chapter 2

Alvin did not often make use of the VIP lounge in airports, but he had indeed had a drink with his colleagues and was happy not to mix with the commoners this morning. Being the only one in the lounge he felt quite comfortable laying across a sofa and napping for half an hour. It was heaven to close his eyes.

         He had not heard anyone enter, but as he came too, two men were engrossed in an animated discussion.

         "But I ask you, Jeremy, to cancel the debt completely, it is the unforgivable sin of economics. What will that teach these countries about competing in the real world?" The man had one of those cultured, smooth voices. He was speaking softly, but the tone he used made it clear he was furious.

         "Calm down Morty, it really is not the end of the world!" Without opening his eyes and even without the first name as a clue, Alvin knew the owner of this voice was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Jeremy Lockhart.

         "Poppycock, Jeremy, what do you know about world economics. You are a politician, for pity’s sake. You only say what you are told, but none of you lot in that house understand it!"

         "Really?" The PM did not seem the slightest bit insulted. "And an ex-banker of two failed institutions knows what about money, exactly?"

         "An ex-banker of two institutions which received billions in investment cash thanks to tax payers, which will still not be paid back by the time the sun turns supernova." Jeremy was silenced. "I was miffed that they saw fit to halve my pension, but I will try the best I can to get by on the two million allowed per annum."

         Who was this guy? Alvin opened his left eye a crack and immediately recognised the billionaire Mortimer Gauge. This man had certainly not charmed his way to the top. He had been sat on the Executive of nearly a dozen banks and international companies and invested in anything, no matter how unethical to amass his billion pounds. Alvin was not surprised at the views expressed now. Mortimer Gauge had squeezed, pried, extorted, cheated and outright stolen every penny of his billion.

         "I noticed Lazarus Goody-Two-Shoes on the list. It stinks of him, something like this," Mortimer almost spat out the latter sentence.

         "Oh Morty, please," the PM soothed. "The writing off of Third World debt has been on the table for decades. You can't be miffed at Lazarus Goodman for this. It was going to happen sooner or later.

         Besides, what harm has Lazarus ever done you. All he has ever done is help people. I doubt he has ever harmed a fly in his life. The whole world can't be as ruthless as you in their treatment of others. There would be no one left."

         Mortimer huffed and muttered, "Well, there would be one left, obviously."

         Jeremy chuckled. "I am just saying, he is a nice guy. I do not understand why you hate him so much."

         "He would not be so nice if a couple of luxuries were taken away."

         "Now there you are not just wrong about him, you are very wrong," the PM defended. "Lazarus is not interested in money at all. I know him very well. He doesn't look at life that way."

         "How do you know that?"

         "I have known him for years, Morty."

         "Have you ever known him to be short of money," Mortimer pressed.

         "Well, no, but I don't see..."

         "Oh don't you?"

         "He has really got under your skin, Morty," the PM seemed aghast. "I had no idea you felt so strongly about anyone other than yourself."

         That made Mortimer smile for the first time in the conversation. "OK, OK. It's just that holier than thou types like him nark me. Anyone can be good, idealistic and generous when they have not got any problems." He turned serious now. "Take his props away and he will be as savage as the rest of us."

         "I still say you are wrong about him," the PM being careful about the words he used now. "He does not place his life's worth in money, possessions, his reputation, not even his friends and family. He lives to serve his God. Nothing is more important to him."

         "He is a Muslim? I was not aware of that."

         Now the PM laughed. "Mortimer Gauge, I swear there are times I wonder how you ever got to where you are today. Why on earth would you think he is a Muslim?"

         "You said he was religious!"

         The PM doubled up so violently that Alvin nearly ran to apply first aid. His laughter was from the gut and not easily stopped. "Christian! Not Muslim, he is a born again Christian, Morty!"

         "I didn't know there were any left."

         At this the PM began to shed tears.

         "Come on," Mortimer tugged at his sleeve. "We are boarding now. I am ready for a drink."

         As they left, Alvin sat up and pressed the stop button on the digital recorder he always kept in his shirt breast pocket. He had always found it easier to dictate his thoughts than write or type them.

         "This may be useful someday," Alvin said to himself as he checked the clarity of recording.

         Take his props away and he will be as savage as the rest of us.

         Alvin smiled. Picked up his bag and hoped he would be in the seat behind the Prime Minister and Mortimer Gauge, but knew that this was unlikely.