Chapter 16 NATIONAL DELUSIONS
men like Jack Reagan had few illusions as to the complexities of the
forces that made the world turn. With each passing day it became more
and more obvious to him that most of those who governed the world of
business and politics had a pitiful lack understanding of those forces.
Danger stalked when investors, large and small, from London to Beijing and from
Moscow to Dubai, had become hypnotized by the phenomenal rise in the price of
property. Reagan had avoided the flurry of feverish speculation, as others rushed
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like lemmings towards the precipice. It was precisely the kind of risk he had
always taken care to avoid. The properties he owned had been bought carefully
over time to create a solid and lasting investment portfolio, but he had also been
lucky, and knew it, buying and selling at the right time was paramount.
If the content of newspapers and TV programs was representative of what most
interested his fellow countrymen, it was evident that football came first, followed
by football, yes football, and only then property. Football was of course big
business. There was no refuting it; the British public was football crazy, but for
many, football, or any other sport for that matter, was small beer compared to
property. Wheeling and dealing in property had become the national past time and
the money involved was staggering. The entry ticket, that is to get onto the first
rung of the property ladder, was near two hundred thousand pounds, and half or
more again in the London area, and most of that was borrowed money.
Property consultants, advisers and experts abounded and they all had one thing in
common, they were smooth talkers, out to earn a quick buck off the backs of the
punters. As for Moreau’s pal, Jameson, he was one of them, and to Reagan’s eye
nothing less than an outright, perhaps clever, crook; who had however, made the
mistake of taking him for a dupe, by suggesting he invest in local property?
Reagan, in spite of his own acquired wealth, never forgot the covetous nature of
the world in which he lived, where the winners took all, leaving the crumbs for the
rest. How did he differ from less fortunate people? He freely admitted his success
had more to do with good fortune than hard work, though he knew that hard work
and success often went hand in hand. That did not make him an excessively
prudent man, it was the fear of losing that had made him cautious, weighing risks
and seizing the right opportunities, whenever they appeared. The moment the Finns
manifested their interest in acquiring his business he knew that it was one of those
unique occasions created by the fortuitous conjuncture of the business climate and
the growing promise of biofuel technology.
His property investments provided him with an enviable income and if their value
increased so much the better, on the other hand, any thought of playing Monopoly
was out of the question. Economies were built on cycles and it was evident the
fallout from the sub-prime crisis was far from being over; his cautious mind told
him the situation could only worsen.
Reagan knew what was written by so-called experts on the pages of the Sunday
heavies was rubbish, invented by salaried journalists, probably mortgaged up to the
hilt themselves, without a real a penny to their name. The same went for the advice
of average high street bankers and the products they touted. Their only goal was to
get their hands on their customers’ money, handing it over to their investment arms
to speculate, where in turn it was skimmed and many other pockets were filled. His
own reference was that of his peers, those who like him had made their own
money. Better still were those who had inherited money and had been able to hold
onto it.
To Reagan most financial experts looked at the world with blinkered eyes, only
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seeing what lay on the narrow road directly ahead of them; all that was beyond
their immediate vision was non-existent. It reminded him of the world of physics,
where scientists declared things impossible until a new discoveries refuted all ideas
that had gone before.
Life was a series of hazards and what he had earned he intended to hang on to it.
There were few Mick Jagger’s and even fewer Bill Gates. He remembered
listening to a lone violinist on a cold winter’s night in a Victoria Street shopping
arcade, clearly a virtuoso, who after years of study had been forced to turn to
begging to earn a crust. There were few jobs for musicians, actors, painters and
dancers, many of whom struggled to survive, working as barmen or waiters in
Starbucks cafes and pubs.
Following the events of the summer in 2007, Reagan had been surprised by the
general return to calm as the Northern Rock fiasco appeared to subside. He moved
quickly, relocating and spreading his more liquid investments. First came the
announcement of losses at the Swiss bank USB, they were colossal. His fears were
soon confirmed when Bear Stearns collapsed, followed in rapid succession by
Lehman Brothers in the US and Bradford & Bingley in the UK. There remained
little doubt that other troubled financial institutions were hiding in the woods. His
worst fears were about to come true as the vultures gathered for the feast that
awaited them.












