Before: Politics

‘A small entity cannot absorb a large one. Or is it possible? Who knows, who knows. Which of these two can come out the winner? Who has a character, who hardens it, and who just happened to be born bigger,’ Robert stared at the fish in a fish tank in his office, twirling a can of worms in his hands. Aquatic inhabitants, who not for once had witnessed important meetings and negotiations in the home office of the owner, were used to receiving encouragement for exemplary behaviour in the form of a daily portion of live food. But that day something changed. There was no reward. ‘What’s wrong?’ the fish were asking a dumb question, looking closely at the changing shadows behind the barrier of their habitual habitat. ‘Today, friends, you have to figure out who is a wolf and who is a sheep. Who will rule and who will serve. Today we have to dot all the i’s. And it’s time for you, my devoted protégés, to pay your bills. No free ride. Have taken something, be ready to pay. Sooner or later.’ Robert tapped the glass of the tank with the knuckle of his index finger—the fish scattered in different directions. ‘Let’s see who wins this time!’ he closed the can of worms without throwing them any, and put it in the bar fridge built into the base of the tank.

‘See you tomorrow. Or maybe goodbye,’ Robert’s lips twisted in the semblance of a smile. He went to the bathroom, next to the office, to clean himself up before leaving.

‘Damn it! Just now I could have failed miserably!’ returning abruptly to the office, he took a pen from a pencil glass and a block of stickers on the table and wrote in a flamboyant hand: Do not feed! RR ‘No, not like that! Bad!’ Robert looked critically at what he had just written. He sat down at the table and carefully wrote on a yellow sheet—Do not feed! Stressing the instruction, he added: RGR. Leaving the office, he stuck a sticker on the wall of the fish tank and slammed the door behind.

In the bright light of a dressing room, his legs wide apart and hands on his hips, Robert was trying to figure out: ‘What to choose? Which accents will be right today? That’s the million-dollar question…’ He began to examine the racks of clothes methodically, his feet sinking into the light cream carpet covering the floor of the room. On the left side, on white shelves up to the ceiling, there were all kinds of colourful sweaters, turtlenecks and jeans, tweed trousers and cotton clothing. A row of closed shelves separated a large compartment with casual shoes, containing sneakers and running shoes, flip-flops and boots. Robert was critically examining his reflection in the mirrors in the central part of the dressing room. Regular work-out over the past two years had done their job. He was slim and fit, in good shape. But not over-dried and, even more important, not pumped up. ‘Not too much and just enough. I think it’s the right way. But, of course, we will go on exercising.’ His gaze moved on. A compartment with shirts in two long rows: white, light blue and various shades of blue on top, several light grey and pink; from below—in variegated colours with all sorts of prints, from classic paisley to trivial checkered shirts. In another divider, all kinds of accessories were stored—ties, bow ties, various belts, scarves and so on…Then again a large row with shoes, but this time of more reserved shades when occasions demand so. The second to last compartment contained multiple suits and dinner jackets. The sanctuary of the owner’s style was rounded out by a wardrobe with outdoor pieces, jackets and coats, down jackets, sheepskin coats and all kinds of winter clothing items. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need a hat today.’

‘What’s the weather like today, Joe?’ Robert asked his digital assistant.

‘Robert, it’s going to be great weather in Central London today. It’s sunny all day. Now the temperature is 19 degrees. During the day, the maximum temperature will reach 26 degrees.’

‘Good. And what would you advise me to put on, Joe?’

‘Unfortunately, Robert, I’m not ready to help you with that. I can find the contacts of a stylist who will be useful to you with a wardrobe. Should I complete this task for you?’

‘No,’ Robert replied thinking, ‘I don’t need a stupid stylist with a loopy advice, what I need is an image verified to the smallest detail that does the job.’

‘Okay. Let’s be logical. The meeting is rather semi-formal. Although, of course, it is important. A café full of tourists does not imply the expediency of a suit. It’s hot outside. Brown shoes, blue jeans with a brown belt, light brown polo. Pink socks will emphasize a liberal mood. A watch. Which watch to wear?’

‘So, let’s see what we have here…’ Robert came up to the shelf on the right and pulled out one of the drawers. In each cell of a large rectangular wooden pallet there were watches: mechanical, golden, steel, with straps made of leather or steel, sporty, with precious stones, round, square, rectangular, plastic… The electronic watch faces, powered by a wireless charger built into the box, were showing the synchronized time – "07:44".

‘It’s so much stuff in here… What to choose?!’ Robert carefully examined the rows of watches, matching the thought out style for the upcoming meeting with an important accessory.

‘I don’t know… I’ll make a neutral choice. An electronic watch in a gold case. Let it be so.’

‘Joe, what’s the temperature in this room? I’m a little hot.’

‘Robert, the current temperature set in the dressing room is 23 degrees,’ the assistant replied. ‘Shall I make it one degree lower to 22?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘All right, Robert. Thank you.’

Having dressed, Robert critically examined himself in the mirror:

‘There’s something wrong about all this. Stupid shoes. Need them more casual, but also brown. These classics are too pretentious. The belt doesn’t fit either. Need a simpler one.’

‘What do you think, Joe? How, is it? Everything OK or should I fix something?’

‘Robert, please specify what you mean.’

‘I see.’

Robert went down to the living room on the ground floor, where Antonio was relaxing on the sofa. Frames of the morning news show were changing on the screen on the wall. The guest in the studio was trying to be convincing while explaining something to the host in the studio, who, apparently, was not very happy with the direction the conversation was taking.

‘What kind of a weasel is that man, Antonio?’ Robert asked.

‘Who knows. I have no idea. Anyway, it is important for me to understand how the presenter will carry on with him. It is quite possible that we will also need to get into the program. So I’m trying to read it,’ Antonio picked up the communicator and started making notes.

‘Look at me—is everything all right?’

‘What’s the matter, Robert?’ Antonio turned to him. ‘Oh. I see. Antonio got up from the sofa and walked over to his boss, examining him from head to toe. ‘Well, I can tell you, I think everything is fine. Although… Wait… rather, you know, too good. It’s too proper or something. We need a slight imperfection. Maybe let the polo out of the jeans? Eh?’

‘No, it would be too informal.’

‘Well, actually, yes. I agree, Robert. Then here’s what. I know. We need to change the watch. Keep it simple and out of place.’

Robert looked at the chosen watch:

‘Okay. Good. Then, the best choice is up to you.’

‘Of course, in a moment,’ Antonio replied and went into the dressing room. ‘As you know, every detail is important in our business!’ climbing the stairs, he shouted out.

‘So it’s exactly the problem, that I know…’ muttered Robert.

Barel, who was sitting in the kitchen and reading the news, looked at the boss, distracted by their conversation with Antonio:

‘Good morning, boss,’ he said in a loud voice.

‘Oh, hello, Barel. I didn’t notice you. Everything OK?’

‘Well, yes. It’s all good. The weather is great today.’

‘Now, that’s fine, Barel. We’re going for a little walk today.’

‘Yes, boss. Meeting with the Chinese guys at 12:30?’

‘So it is.’

‘What do you prefer, boss—by tube or by capsule?’

‘It will be hot on the tube. We’ll drive somewhere closer to the meeting place. And then I’ll walk. And you have to stay in the car, Barel. I’ll go with Antonio.’

Barel looked at Robert:

‘If I must, then I must, boss. Whatever you say. Anyway, I’ll be there. I think there shouldn’t be any problems.’

‘I’m positive too. But, as our old friend used to say, the best improvisation is prepared improvisation.’

‘He was right, your friend, boss.’

Robert smiled.

Parliament

Barel, having made sure that everyone was in place and ready to go, took a seat on the first row in the capsule—the car smoothly started accelerating. On the control panel, he double-checked the route and microclimate settings for the drive. Everything as Robert prefers: 22 degrees, active filtration and ionization of the intake air, noise reduction and silence in the cabin. Then, his task was to look around and to not interfere.

‘Robert, should I go through the main points of the conversation as we’ve outlined it?’ Antonio asked.

‘Listen, everything is going to be as usual—no matter how many times you repeat, nothing will go according to the plan.’

‘This is, of course, true. But the key issues should be worked out in any case.’

‘I do remember everything perfectly, Antonio. Don’t you worry. Last night I double-checked everything and thought it through again.’

‘All right, boss. Whatever you say.’

‘He calls me boss when he feels hurt or when he’s nervous,’ Robert thought. ‘Everything all right with my fishes? Have they sorted it out among themselves or are they yet pretending to be civilized…’, he plunged into thoughts, looking at the houses in the streets of London on their way.

A new page in his life history opened with London. Robert’s parents decided to try their luck in the States in the middle of the 21st century, emigrating from the UK to Los Angeles. As it sometimes happened to the middle class English aristocracy, the inheritance received by his mother did not provide even for paying utility bills in their estate, not to mention the maintenance of the ancestral nest at the adequate level. His mother was convinced of her innate artistic talents, but she believed that European venues would be too cramped for her…and it was not for her pure-blood baroness status, to measure herself against the so called local élite, as she used to say, asserting herself. A different matter altogether was the Olympus of Hollywood, with its boundless potential of studios that have written their names into the walk of fame of the world film industry. In the end, the house was sold, and they left for the west, full of new expectations. She was deeply and genuinely surprised though with things going wrong there, in the New World as well. To be fair, for the rest of the Richardson family, who remained to languish on the ever foggy island, the news from the other side of the Atlantic was not a surprise. The newcomers had to move to the suburbs of Los Angeles, Emily began working as a sales assistant in a local shop, and her father, never finding himself in the new world, could not stand new challenges and took to drinking. Robert’s uncle, Emily’s brother, who remained at home in England, managed to get back on his feet and achieved a certain position. He was well versed in marketing and being a good psychologist found his vocation as an excellent PR man, combining in his practice an understanding of the laws of perception and clients’ business interests. Later he opened his own agency in London. It was Uncle Oliver who invited his young nephew to London and agreed to pay for his studies at one of the best business schools—Oxford University. There was only one single condition—having graduated, Robert had to join his uncle’s team and develop the company together with him. Later, however, other circumstances of the deal came to light, which Robert did not suspect initially. Finding himself in the middle of the capital for the first time as an adult, Robert fell in love with its imperial greatness, inspired by the history of great conquests, financial ambitions and achievements, political intricacies. To a young man who grew up in the City of Angels, London appeared to be one of the pillars of the modern world.

‘Boss, from here you have to walk about three hundred meters to the restaurant where you

will meet the Chinese partners. Antonio, do you know where to go?’ Robert, who nearly slipped into slumber during the smooth movement of the capsule, was stirred by Barel.

‘Of course, I know where we should go, Barel. Although I am not a local, I try to do my job professionally.’