The Planner by Tom Campbell Read Free Book Online Page A

said Daniel. ‘My God, I wouldn’t want to be managing that one.’
    ‘Camilla is the client, the brand manager,’ explained Felix, ‘and Erica is the account director. A large part of her job is therefore to keep Camilla feeling happy and loved.’
    ‘Is that easy?’ asked James.
    ‘Christ, no – she’s a nightmare,’ said Erica. ‘A twenty-four-hour walking psycho-drama. But in my own way, I’ve become fond of her. That’s what happens. Now, what I really need is for one of you to give her an almighty fuck tonight. She hasn’t had sex for six months. It’s no wonder that the relaunch is going so badly.’
    ‘Well don’t look at me,’ said Daniel. ‘I’ve got my own brand to think about, remember.’
    ‘I don’t think the chemistry is there,’ said James, who hadn’t had sex for over a year, but didn’t think he was ready to start with Camilla.
    ‘Can’t you get one of your account managers to do it?’ said Felix. ‘What about that beautiful boy Martin? He’s got to be good for something.’
    ‘Martin? He’s fucking our Art Director. If I got him involved with Camilla that really would screw things up.’
    This was more like it. James had spent enough time with urban planners and public servants, with people called Lionel and Neil. He needed to know more Felixes and Camillas. He needed to have drinks with people who worked in the glamorous parts of the private sector, and who could speak openly and cynically about sex and money, people with their own personal brands, complicated remuneration packages and opaque tax arrangements.
    Camilla returned from the bathroom where it looked like she had been crying, and ordered an over-generous round of drinks and bar snacks. She then proceeded to be completely charming with everyone. In fact, James had just got to the point of wondering whether he ought to try and have sex with her after all, when she started to raise her voice again, and Erica immediately suggested that they go home.
    ‘It’s midnight,’ said Felix. ‘We should all probably go. One of the critical things with evenings like this is to demonstrate moderation and sound judgement. It’s something Camilla has never managed.’
    ‘Well, I didn’t think she was too bad. In fact, all of your friends seemed very nice,’ said James.
    ‘They’re really not, you know. Even Erica. They’re just very skilled at their jobs, and they understand that in this profession you’re always working.’
    ‘Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes, I suppose so. After all, we are nothing more than what we pretend to be. I guess that goes for account directors as well as everyone else.’
    James didn’t get the night bus home that night. No – he got a taxi, all the way! He sat on his own in the deep leather seats luxuriating in the quiet, troubled by nothing more than his own thoughts – which were, unfortunately, so much worse than the students on the night bus. But it was still a good way to travel: going through South London at a constant speed, under bright but intermittent lights, even the shit parts, even the parts he was responsible for, didn’t look so very bad. But the age of planning cities for the motorcar had long come to an end. It was a shame, in a way, for it had been a time when town planners had never had more power and prestige. Even Adam would have been impressed if James had demolished his house to make way for a dual carriageway.
    So he needed a worldview – a doctrine, maybe a fierce modern one, or else something derived from ancient wisdoms. He needed to be theoretically willing to undertake great feats that would accelerate the direction of history or, failing that, help him to sleep peacefully at night and seduce women. His other friends had them, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. You could tell by the way that Alice became louder when someone was disagreeing with her, or in Adam’s wry little smile – they knew something important about