I shook my head.
‘But Russia. That’s the real prize. In many ways it’s similar to the South American countries, and the profit potential is just as big. Maybe bigger.’
‘So that’s why you might want me?’
‘That’s the idea. I need someone who speaks Russian and understands economics and who’s smart. Someone I can train up in the way we do things round here. Someone who’s hungry and who has loyalty to the Group. We had some trouble with our Eastern European team recently. I don’t know if Jamie told you?’
‘They walked out, didn’t they? To Bloomfield Weiss?’
‘That’s right,’ said Ricardo. His voice was steady, but now his wedding ring was dancing across his fingers, never resting in place for more than a second at a time. ‘I made a mistake there. I took them on as hired guns, and they left me for a master who’d pay them more. I trusted them. I left them alone to build their own business. In future I’m going to rely on my own people. People whose loyalty I can count on.
‘I trust those people back there. We’re all a team, we all work together, and we all make money together. A lot of money. You see that guy there, the oriental-looking one?’
I followed Ricardo’s glance, and could just see a squat man of about forty laughing down a telephone. ‘Yes. I met him earlier. His name’s Pedro something, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right. Pedro Hattori. He’s a Japanese-Brazilian. He’s my chief trader. Last year his total compensation was in eight figures.’
I thought for a moment, counting up the zeros in my head. Eight figures! Jesus! That was more than ten million pounds. Or dollars, or something. That was more money than I could possibly conceive of any individual actually earning.
My astonishment must have shown. Ricardo laughed. ‘How much do you make?’
‘Fourteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds a year,’ I said. ‘Plus London weighting.’
‘Well, if we take you on we’d pay you thirty thousand pounds a year, with no waiting. If you produce income for us, then you get a bonus above that. How much depends entirely on you. How does that sound?’
‘Er... Fine.’
‘Good. Now tell me a bit about you. Why do you want to join us?’
I launched into my spiel. ‘I’ve always found the financial markets fascinating—’
He held up his hand to stop me. ‘Hold on, Nick. You’ve spent the last six years studying Russian. If you’d really found finance so interesting you’d be working in a bank somewhere, wouldn’t you? And we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’
His blue eyes rested on mine, waiting patiently for the truth. I remembered what Jamie had told me. ‘Whatever you do, don’t bullshit Ricardo. All he wants to know is who you are and what you want. Then he’ll decide for himself.’
Well, Jamie had got me this interview in the first place. I would do it his way.
‘When I left Oxford, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was go into banking,’ I said. ‘The suits, the mobile phones, the silly salaries, the greed.’
Ricardo raised his eyebrows. ‘So what’s changed?’
‘I need the money.’
‘Why?’
‘Doesn’t everyone need money?’
‘Some need it more than others.’
I paused. How much should I tell this man? Then I remembered Jamie’s advice.
‘I need it more than most,’ I said. ‘I have a large mortgage, which I can’t meet, and my temporary job finishes at the end of this term.’
‘And when’s that?’
‘Friday.’
‘Ah, I see. Can’t you get another one?’
‘It will be hard. The number of positions for Russian lecturers is decreasing, and there are more of us about. Most are better qualified than me. There isn’t much I can do about that.’
Ricardo nodded. ‘So you’re hungry. I like that. But how hungry are you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, if you were to have a nice job and a nice salary so you could service your nice mortgage, would you be happy?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘If I’m going to do this I want to earn a lot of money.’
Ricardo raised his eyebrows. ‘And what will you do with it when you’ve got it?’
‘Quit. Read.’
The eyebrows shot up again. ‘Isn’t that what you do at the moment?’
I sighed. ‘No. What I do now is churn out research papers, teach, prepare for teaching, and admin. Lots of admin. And I don’t earn enough from all that to pay for the flat I’m living in. I’m trapped. This gives me a way out.’
Ricardo was listening closely to all this, focusing his whole being on me, making me feel as though I was the most important person in the world. I was flattered; I couldn’t help it.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘But what makes you think you’ll be any good? I mean, you’ve done well academically. A first in politics, philosophy and economics from Oxford. Then a master’s in development economics. A glowing reference from the head of your department at the School of Russian Studies. But how do we know you can apply all this to the real world?’
‘I’m sure I can do it,’ I said. I thought for a moment, trying to put into words something I had trouble admitting to myself, let alone anyone else. But I knew if I was to get this job, Ricardo needed to understand. ‘I love Russian literature. I love reading it, I love teaching it. But since my contemporaries left university, I’ve seen them make a fortune in the City. They’re no more intelligent than I am. It’s not as if they have any innate business skills that I don’t. I suppose I just want to prove to myself that I can do it. I work hard and I learn quickly. I’ll figure out how it’s done.’
‘Are you a workaholic?’ he asked.
I smiled. ‘I binge.’
Ricardo relaxed and returned my smile. ‘Well, Jamie said you’re the most intelligent person he’s ever met. And I trust Jamie’s judgement.’ He watched me for a reaction. He didn’t get one. My instinct was to protest at this, but I had the sense to keep my mouth shut. Good for Jamie, I thought. He was always prone to exaggeration, and for once I was glad of it.
‘There’s one other thing I’m curious about,’ Ricardo continued. ‘What about the morality of joining the City? Somehow I imagine that when you studied development economics they didn’t teach you that international capitalism was the saviour of the Third World?’
‘That’s true,’ I said. ‘In fact, at that time you could fairly describe my economic ideas as socialist. But then I lived in Russia for two years and saw the Soviet system disintegrate around me. I’ve seen what a mess state planning can make of an economy.’
‘So you believe in the free market?’
I shook my head. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t believe in any one economic system. There’s a lot of suffering in the world. I’ve read too many Russian novels to believe that there’s very much we can do about that. It’s always been there and it always will be there.’
‘Well, I think you’re wrong,’ said Ricardo. He leaned forward, his eyes grabbing mine. ‘Take South America for example. The nineteen eighties was a decade of poverty and hopelessness. The whole continent took a giant step backwards. And why? Because it was starved of international capital. OK, that was itself a result of the foolishness of the bankers who had lent too much money in the seventies, and the corrupt politicians who had borrowed it. I admit that. But now the outlook is much better. Thanks to us as much as anyone else, foreign capital is pouring into the region once again. And this time it’s being spent on things that will provide a real return. Factories, roads, education. It’ll make a big difference to the lives of millions of people. I’m proud to have been a part of that.’
‘I hope that’s true,’ I said, unable to keep the doubt from my voice.