Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies

Prelude

No, no, that's not right... why is that not right? Louis flipped the page back to check his initial calculation. Wattage over diameter squared, multiplied by power... should be... he pressed the numbers back into the calculator. The resulting answer only matched four out of five of the original numbers he'd written down. Bollocks, he swore to himself, it's a bloody seven not a one. He scowled down at the notepad as he redefined the innocuous middle digit into an unmistakable seven. Well that, right there, is a testament to the impossibility of dependable genius if one can't read one's own writing, he thought sarcastically. With two firm pen strokes his previous calculations were scored out and he flipped to a blank page. But before his pen could even make contact with the paper again, there was a soft knock on the office door. Looking up sharply, Louis blinked into the low light beyond his desk and was surprised to see Liam standing there - briefcase and coat in hand. Crikey, it couldn't be that late already? he thought in horror. One glance at the multi-timezone clock under the giant conference TV was enough to confirm the reality; LDN 17:02. Bloody hell, where has the time gone to today? He groaned to himself. I wanted to get these calculations finished today so I could get straight in the lab tomorrow morning! I promised a working prototype by the end of the month - it's the 19th today! Why do I always do this to myself? Creating stress by making promises when I don't need to.

Normally, if he still had work to complete, Louis would either take the work home with him or, if that was impossible due to confidentiality or practicality, wave Liam off and stay after-hours. Unfortunately, tonight he couldn't do that as he had a social engagement which he couldn't get out of no matter what. Although he dearly wished he could. He really wished he could. But... alas... such were the problems of his hereditary status; both work and social etiquette demanded he wined and dined the necessary pawns to keep everything moving along smoothly. It wasn't done with any deceit; all parties knew exactly what was going on and benefited mutually. Louis wooed the people he needed to by using his status to garner them some media coverage. If it was business-based then it was a toss up between a very public dinner, a papped 'coy' meeting at either of their offices, or an appearance at a charity event or conference. Whichever the ploy, it would be up to Louis' RLA's PR department to alert the right press to pick up the story.

If it was less business-based and more social then Louis liked to keep it simple with either a dinner date or an event appearance - both of which were fairly harmless. He'd text a tip to the necessary pap agency, dress appropriately, do the deed, and his dinner partner's name would be splashed across the media the next day. Business or social, PR stunts were the currency in prosperity in these modern times.

Tonight he had the delight of dining the daughter of a very wealthy industrialist. The father was currently being wooed to inject some of his business into the district of Colbury and Louis being seen 'making nice' with his daughter was part of the wooing agenda. The daughter, apparently, was a growing name in the field of horses and needed a little extra 'exposure' to attract some kind of sporting sponsorship. Louis hadn't really been paying any attention to the details when his Grandfather had informed him of the evening's proceedings. For all he knew about her situation, she could be looking for funding to bring horse meat into every Tesco ready meal. Okay, that wasn't likely, but you could never rule anything out these days.

The bottom line was he didn't care and, really, the only thing he'd been interested in was where the dinner date was being held. To his absolute delight, his Grandfather had informed him of a reservation at The Ivy - by far Louis' favourite restaurant in London. If it was legal by law he would probably propose to their steamed orange pudding.

"Ready to go?" Liam asked with a tired smile.

"Yeah," Louis stood up, gathering all the papers together and locking them up in his bottom drawer, "just give me a minute to pack up. I don't know where the day went." Rather than put the two heavy reference books back in the bookcase, he stowed them in the small cupboard of his desk, ready for him to use in the morning. "It's funny," he mused, "when I wished this morning's conference with Japan would pass by in a flash it dragged on for about ten years; yet the afternoon, just when I really needed time to work on some calcs, it went by like that," he made an explosion gesture with his hands.