We had to come down to London to meet Daisy in her private members’ club. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I mind a trip in to the capital city. I love the place. But I saw the text she sent Elliott. ‘I’ll make it happen,’ she said. Hmm. As long as she accommodates us where it suits her.

When we walk inside I can see why she would choose this place.

The building oozes history, from the aged oak floorboards, to the huge picture windows overlooking Berkley Square right down to the quintessential service that the upper echelons of English society do so well.

Our deferential waiter has been filling our drinks without us noticing, and within ninety minutes of sitting down at the linen tablecloth, Daisy has me eating out of her hand.

It’s only at this point that she reveals the real reason she was so desperate to buy us lunch.

“I wanted to show you this.” She roots around in her bag and produces an iPad which she places on the table central to Elliott and me.

‘Here we go.’ I think.

Elliott doesn’t speak. He waits while she opens the document as though this is a natural way to end a luncheon. Maybe it is, but not in my world and once again I’m struck by how Daisy manages to illuminate a divide between Elliott and me which is otherwise non-existent.

“So, you know I mentioned that I had this idea bubbling away at the back of my mind ages ago?” she asks.

“Yeah...?” Elliott is smiling, nodding, eyes connecting with hers; he’s all in.

“Well, I’ve taken it to the next level, so it’s time for you to take a look if you’re still interested?” It’s a question, but somehow I get the impression we’re going to be given that presentation regardless of our answer.

“Sure,” Elliott replies, glancing at me, the clear expectation in his eyes that I’ll agree. Frankly, I don’t see a way for us not to. It’s like being held hostage on a timeshare weekend. You head out to some random place in the sun expecting a free break in return for nothing more than an hour of your time, and low and behold, you don’t leave until you’ve signed on the dotted line.

The hairs on the back of my neck lift.

She’s continuing to work the iPad as she tells us about this amazing business venture. She’s going to build low cost homes in the UK which she’ll rent out to the lower paid services sector such as nurses and fire fighters and then via some method which she hasn’t fully disclosed and which makes little sense to me, she’ll get the money out to the United Arab Kingdom so she doesn’t have to pay any taxes. Sounds dodgy as fuck to me.

“So, you see. This is perfect for you Elliott, because with your recent interest in building regulations, you can spear head the campaign and everyone will want to live there because you’ve endorsed it.”

I knew it!

For his part Elliott is still not saying anything. He’s rubbing his chin, but his mouth is zip locked.

Unperturbed, Daisy continues her pitch. “With you on board we’ll sell the property quicker meaning we can build more as we’ll be able to reinvest sooner.” She eyes Elliott. “So you see. This is the perfect match.”