“All right. Let's start with the bad news: we didn't get the Leeds contract. Now… yes, I know we're all disappointed….”

“Too right we're disappointed. We had a bloody superlative design for that thing. What happened?”

“What do you think happened?”

“The columns? They didn't like the columns. I knew we should have-”

“Bristol, Tuck and Bloodworth is what happened. Snatched the thing right from under our noses, they did.”

“What - again?”

“Yes, again. Look, as I was saying: I know we're all disappointed….”

“Seriously, do those people ever sleep? That's the last five jobs they've gone and nabbed! Much more of this and they'll drive us out of business….”

“Ah, well… maybe it's time to face facts.”

“Facts?”

“Maybe the world just isn't quite ready for the bold new magical architecture of Penchant, Whinging and Scoop.”

“Yeah, right. We got most of our last design from BTB's New Spa building in Ba-”

“Yes, well… the thing is… there's more than one way to find a niche in the market.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we want to get ahead, we need to push BTB out of our way. And if we can't do that with superior design sense… well, we do have another option.”

“Bears?”

“Strategy. We outsmart them, find the chinks in their armour, hit them in the public relations. You know?”

“Are you kidding me? Public relations? Those people can do nothing wrong, apparently - unstable buildings, terrorist attacks, giant swarms of rats - they just seem to brush it all off.”

“All right - their contracts, then. There must be some weakness in their contracts. Nobody reads those things all the way through….”

“She does.”

“Who?”

“Bloody, bloody Bloodworth. Reads them from start to finish, they say, with a glass of wine and a cat on her knee, like they're written by bloody Agatha Christie. And if you think we can outsmart her, outrun the business she's running, outdo her at the whole marketing thing, well… maybe you should be the magical architect in this company, seeing how good you are at building castles in the air….”

“Are we nearly there yet?”

“Nearly, Becky. Just another little stretch of motorway, and then a quick trip around the ring road.”

“Oh. OK.”

“What's the matter, Becky? Do you need the toilet again?”

“No. I need biscuits.”

“Ah… now listen, sweetie - I don't know if we'll be getting biscuits when we arrive….”

“Yes, we will. Granny Bloodworth always makes biscuits.”

“All right….”

“And then she's going to show me how to knit. I've decided.”

“Oh. Er. Good?”

“And after that, she can tell me my favourite story. The one about how she was trying to sort out some papers but ended up accidentally cutting an enormous flesh monstrosity to pieces with a giant sword in the middle of a volcano….”

“Um… Becky…?”