Chapter 5

Back to Dave

CareSpan threw us a party. Well, we'd identified changes to increase their capacity by 15% within existing resources - and a variety of ways for them to leverage future investment. OK, so, obviously going native with the corporative speak, here, but what I think that means is that we'd found ways of multiplying future funding so that a 5% increase in money coming in might result in a 10% increase in 'product'. The nice thing about working for people like CareSpan was that they didn't automatically think that this was a good excuse to cut the original budgets - whether the same good sense would apply in the corporate world remained to be seen - and, instead, had thrown a party.

And quite a party, too. Somehow they'd hired a river boat on the Thames - just for us - and seemed to have supplied copious amounts of alcohol. I was really impressed when I noticed a couple of casks of proper beer from London's best microbrewery, being attended to by a couple whose ancient T-shirts and pallid complexions identified them as actual brewers. Talk about pushing the boat out ... ho, ho.

I'd been amongst the first to arrive - and that was before I knew about the beer - and quickly found May [CareSpan's Chief Executive] to remonstrate about the extravagance. May, of course, was far too busy to talk - arguing with what appeared to be a chef, in this instance - and simply smiled gnomically. "Extravagance ... well ... maybe ... if we'd paid for it..."

And then she was off, and I got caught up in a flood of new arrivals. Most were from CareSpan, of course - there were a lot more of them than than us - but a fair amount from PCW and a few just friends of mine, people I'd met through previous consultancy work or just ... friends. I did have some.

Naz and Seffi arrived - together, I wasn't remotely surprised to note - and ensconced themselves conveniently close to the bar. I got to talking to a couple of people from a London charity - about politics, since you ask - and started in on the ale. It took me some time to notice that Debbie wasn't about ... and that the boat was about to ... I don't know ... sail? Cast off? Get under way? I found May in a hurry, not quite sure why I thought she'd be able to help. She could, though, simply asking, "You haven't checked your mobile, have you?"

I hadn't. I did. And, yes, there was a message from Debbie ... she would be joining us at the next pier, for whatever reason...

When we got to Blackfriars, I was waiting by the gangway, as you might expect. As soon as the boat came into the pool of light around the pier, I anxiously scanned the waiting ... people; hardly a crowd.

Nonetheless, I noticed three things, pretty much at once. Debbie looked stunning, instantly, in a pale green chiffon dress with what might be emeralds around her neck. Then, Debbie was standing beside a guy in a powered wheelchair, apparently controlling the thing via a small keyboard under his right hand. And, thirdly ... standing behind Debbie was ... Carla.

Well ... I suppose I could have been blown out of the water - as a small part of my mind suggested, maliciously - but my main thought was, bizarrely, that it was nice that Carla had finally met Debbie ... and vice versa...

Then, of course, they were coming aboard - see, nautical stuff comes naturally after a while - and I was being hugged by Carla, peculiarly aware that Debbie was simultaneously passing by with the guy in the wheelchair - or should that be "the wheelchair using bloke". Whatever ... Debbie squeezed my arm as she passed; I sort of twisted in Carla's arms to smile at her ... but she'd passed by.

Carla stepped back out of the hug and looked at me - and, over my shoulder, at Debbie.

"Lovely woman", she said, "Very bright, capable ... excellent choice, if you don't mind me saying so." I didn't, but then I didn't know what she was actually talking about. Choice? As colleague? Life partner? And where the fuck did the life partner bit come from? Ah, well...

I shook myself, tried to re-engage with Carla, but an awful lot of my mind was still thinking stuff around... 'I'm sort of involved with someone ... or not involved ... but still a bit entangled ... and he's a nice guy'. Words Debbie had said to me not so long ago.

Meanwhile, Carla was sort of demanding my attention - in a nice way. Actually, she was hanging on to my arm, looking round the party, obviously impressed. And it was impressive - not too many people (which was good) but wonderfully subtle lighting, an excellent sound system, superb free bar ... and what looked like a huge buffet, currently being rolled out into the room. I told Carla that it was absurd, CareSpan organising all of this.

"Of course they didn't, silly...", she said, "I did."

I looked at her for a while in silence and then she pulled me gently towards the bar - pint of East London Gold for me, an orange juice for her. Orange juice?, I thought, but then I was being dragged away again, past Naz and Seffi - the only people dancing, but seemingly oblivious to the fact - and out onto the deck ... or whatever ... outside from the main party, anyway. I noticed the South Bank passing, the London Eye. It was a fine sight.