Old Traders Never Die

Chapter 5

Although we only had to wait around 30 minutes until the company issued its press release, it seemed like an age. And there was a lot riding on it. Not only were there implications for Tim, but I knew that both Nigel and I could be in serious trouble for not managing him properly. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, I knew, but big trading losses always need scapegoats, and I had no doubt that I, if not Nigel too, could end up paying the price for this with our jobs.

I looked over into Nigel's office, and saw that he was deep in conversation with the Head of Compliance, who had arrived on the scene soon after the company shares were suspended.

The mood on the trading floor was strange. Tim's meltdown had left everyone on edge. Most of the traders had stopped trading, unnerved by witnessing what Tim had put himself through. We were all just waiting for the news. And no-one expected the news to be good.

Tim had returned to his desk by now, and he just sat there, staring at his screen. He seemed to be reading the announcement of the suspension of the company's shares over and over again, as if, by some magic, he would be able to pick up something which would give him a clue as to what was coming next. I looked over at Peter, close by Tim, and he appeared to be the only one unaffected by what went on. He sat there, quietly executing a few trades.

Then it came. The news we had all been waiting for. I felt sick to my stomach as I read the press release. Not sure that I had quite taken it in, I re-read it. The company was announcing that it was being taken over by a rival, at a price which was at a 25% premium on the stock's last closing price! I quickly did the math. Not only had Tim recouped his losses, but he would even return a profit of around one million pounds!

Nigel ran out of his office, and over to my desk. 'The old fucker', he yelled as he looked over at Peter. 'He fucking knew about the takeover. One of his old muckers on the inside must have told him. He fucking knew all along!!'.

Tim, in the meantime, had collapsed in a heap on his desk, sobbing uncontrollably. The stress had taken its toll on him.

'We'll have to work out what to do with him', Nigel whispered, motioning his head in Tim's direction. 'This could be the end of him. He looks totally crushed. And I'm not sure I can save him - even if I wanted to'.

Without saying a word, Peter then got up from his chair. All eyes on the trading floor were upon him. Then, in a moment of high drama, he reached across Tim's desk and picked up the bell, hurling it straight into the nearest wastepaper bin. Retrieving his jacket from the back of his chair, Peter looked over at Nigel and I, winked, and headed out of the office for the day.

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Peter was alone (as usual) in his flat that night when there was a knock on his door. He grumbled to himself as he pushed himself up from the sofa, and opened it. It was Tim, with a bottle of expensive champagne in hand.

'What the fuck', Peter said as he saw the young trader standing there. He quickly slammed the door in Tim's face. Before he could sit back down, however, there was another wrap on the door.

'Come on, man', Tim pleaded. 'Be gracious. This ain't easy for me'.

'Why should I make it easy', Peter said as he re-opened the door.

'How did you get my address ?', he asked.

'I've been fucking this girl in Human Resources', Tim boasted. 'I always knew it would come in handy'.

'What, did you promise to stop fucking her if she gave you my address', Peter said sarcastically.

'Well, can I come in ?'

'You fucking are in. Now close the fucking door!'.

'Hope you like the champers', Tim said, pointing at the bottle, 'I just wanted to come over and say thanks for what you did today'.

'Next time bring whisky', Peter replied.

'OK, I'll remember that. Anyway, I guess I'll be off. I just wanted to pay my respects', Tim said as he headed back towards the door. He felt uncomfortable, like he was intruding. And Peter hadn't exactly made him feel welcome.

'Sit the fuck down, will you', Peter ordered. 'The very least you can do is stay and help me drink this shit'.

Tim smiled, happy to have been asked to stay.

'Nice place', Tim said, as he looked around at the few sticks of furniture contained in Peter's one-room apartment.

'Yeah', said Peter. 'It's where you end up if you fuck your life up like I have. Let this be a lesson to you, boy. Any more tricks like you pulled today, and you'll end up in a place like this too'.

'Oh, I don't think that I'll be given another chance to fuck up', Tim said. 'Nigel's suspended me. I'm pretty sure I'm finished'.

'Well, we'll just have to see about that', Peter replied.

'You got any interesting music on that old wind-up', Tim asked, spying Peter's ancient record player over in the corner.

'Only the best fucking band in the world', came the reply.

'Yeah, and who's that, then ?'

'Fleetwood Mac, of course'.

'Oh yeah, I think I've heard of them'.

Both men laughed, as they knocked back the champagne.

Chapter 6

'What do you mean that you're gonna let him go', Peter asked incredulously. 'He's a fucking good trader, and you know it. Are you fucking crazy ?'

'But he's out of control', Nigel replied. 'What he did was unacceptable'.

'Unacceptable ? Didn't he make you about a million pounds ?'

'No, Peter. He almost lost us 20 million'.

'Look, you know that letting him go now will kill his career. He'll be finished. No-one will hire him. You took a chance on me, didn't you ?', Peter pointed out. 'This guy could be the real deal. You just gotta give him another chance. And besides, if I'd have bailed out on you at the first sign of trouble...'.

'Oh fuck off, Peter', Nigel interrupted. 'I was never like that. I may have been guilty of being inexperienced and over-confident, but I was never reckless. Tim's off the reservation. And he's done this before. He's already on notice about breaching his limits. Anyway, it's out of my hands now. Compliance is involved. Human Resources are involved. We can't just brush it under the carpet. What he did amounts to gross misconduct, easily enough for him to be fired'.

'I can't believe what you're saying. This kid makes you loads of money, and you're going to fire him!'.

'It's not just about making money anymore, Peter. We can't have lose cannons around. Firms are more concerned with reputational risk these days. That can be more important than making a few quid'.

'Bollocks! It's always about the money. Cut his limits if you must. Put a black mark against his name. But give the kid another fucking chance'.

Nigel shrugged his shoulders. 'I'll do what I can', he sighed. 'But I gotta say that you are the last person I thought would be in here fighting his corner'.

As Peter headed to his desk, Nigel called him back. 'Oh, and thanks for what you did yesterday', he said. 'We would have been in an even bigger mess if you hadn't pulled that rabbit out of your hat'.

Not concerned about the reputational risk, then ?', Peter teased.

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That night after work, Nigel, Peter and I were having a quick drink in a local bar.

'I'll just have some ice, please', Peter said to the waitress. 'And make sure that you put a double whisky in with it!'.

'I thought you promised to keep off stuff like that', Nigel said.

'And I thought you promised to keep me out of places like this', Peter laughed.

In fact, we all laughed. And, in truth, we had a lot to be happy about. The firm was doing well, and our trading unit had enjoyed another strong month. The volatility in the markets was proving to be our friend.

'So, Peter', I asked. 'Are you glad to be back in the markets ?'

'Not sure that I'd say that', he replied. 'I'd rather not have had to come back. But I guess things are about as good as I could have hoped for'.

'And what about the old days', I probed. 'Are things very different now ?'

'Not really', he said, as he nursed his whisky. 'It's still a dog-eat-dog world, where making money is all that counts'.

'Oh don't start on that one again, Peter', Nigel interrupted. 'You gotta admit that the City has really cleaned up its act in the last few years'.

'Cleaned up its act!', Peter laughed. 'That's a good one', he continued. 'Sure, there's a lot more talk now about ethics and compliance, and level-playing fields, but it's just the same as it always was. People have the same mentality, and behave in the same way as they always did. The only difference is that it's less obvious now - people are less honest about their dishonesty!'.

'Cheers,' I said as I looked over at Peter and Nigel, 'Here's to the future'.

'To the future', Nigel and Peter repeated.

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I arrived at work a little later than usual the next day, and saw Peter looking at something on Bloomberg.

'Have you heard the news ?', he asked.

'News ?'

'We're being taken over'.

'What!', I cried.

'Yep, and by a big fucking bureaucratic US bank, as well', Peter continued. 'So much for our 'future''.

Wow, this was a game-changer. In a matter of a few seconds, our cozy little world was invaded by outsiders. And, worse, the invaders were a bunch of fucking Yanks.

Source: Here Is The City (hitc.com)