CNBC Business | Eurotypes: The Eurostar traveller

Eurotypes: The Eurostar traveller

Mark Jones rides the rails with an entrepreneur on the cutting edge of both commerce and couture

David’s thumb brushed his cheek as he cradled the phone. He’d forgotten to shave. Well, not forgotten exactly; Lady Caroline had said something in the last prospects meeting about – what was it? – ah, yes: “The natural state of the Frenchman is stubbly… not seedy, exactly, but definitely stubbly.” David had to ask Brian afterwards what she’d meant. “Don’t worry, old boy,” Brian said. “It’s just an English girl’s way of saying she likes you. They always start by teasing.”

“I’ll hold.” David pressed the speaker button and laid the mobile on the table. The strains of euro-techno music filled the immediate vicinity. The Englishwoman opposite stiffened her neck and gave the phone a hostile look. Her male colleague muttered something about Eurostar needing to enforce the quiet zones. David inspected the mousse on his champagne and smiled to himself. The trouble with the English was that, deep down, they hated technology.

They did know how to make life comfortable for businesspeople, however. David now spent as much time in Mayfair as in the St Germain office. The chief had done something clever with his contract that meant he wasn’t bound by the damn socialist working time directives now he did so much business out of the UK. “Congratulations, David!” his old college friend Didier said. “Welcome to the Anglo-Saxon world. Goodbye to your quality of life!” “Sarkozy knows where you live, my friend,” David retorted. Didier threw up his hands in despair. “Pff! Is that some new tough-guy Americanism you’ve got from one of your books?”

As the euro-techno played on, David picked up his much-thumbed copy of Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. He read: “You cannot continuously improve interdependent systems and processes until you progressively perfect interdependent, interpersonal relationships.” That was the problem with the French way of doing business, he mused. Too obsessed with systems.

He sipped the champagne and took a critical nibble from one of the canapés. The hold music fizzed on. The trouble with trying to progressively perfect an interdependent, interpersonal relationship is that it requires the other person to pick up the damn phone. Finally, the music ended with a click. “Caroline Brown,” an efficient voice said. David swiftly switched off the speaker mode. “Ah, Lady Caroline, at last. How are you?”

“Hi David. Caroline will do. I haven’t joined the ranks of the aristocracy yet.”

“OK. I’m just on the Eurostar now…” “Oh, in that case I won’t talk long. I just hate it when people talk endlessly on their mobiles on trains, don’t you? But I’m glad you called. David, I don’t normally like to mix personal stuff with business…” David smiled. “I know, Caroline, but sometimes the force is too strong…” “Yes… right. Well, it’s about the meeting with Sir Lionel this afternoon. He’s very old school, you know. And I can’t help noticing that you don’t always, well, shave. Sorry to point it out, but you know…”

“Don’t worry, Caroline, I will be immaculate.” Without waiting for her to reply, David switched off the phone with an angry flourish. He stared coolly at the businesswoman opposite. “I ’ope you are ’appy now?” EB