The group of young men attracted a number of disapproving looks from the patrons of the City chop house. Yes, their dress was slightly vulgar - red braces, striped shirts and Italian-cut suits - and their manners were even more so - brash and boasting of their successes. The constant warbling of their bulky mobile phones was a constant annoyance. However, what really set the young men apart from their elders was their attitude.

Sir Anthony glanced over the top fold of his copy of the Pink 'Un, focussing his attention on the loudest of the group. He recognised the young man: Jonathan Alpine, not even 30 and already a millionaire. Young Mr Alpine had gained a reputation for being 'flash' and, from the tenor of his conversation, it was much deserved.

"It's just a matter of timing," Jonathan declared to his followers, his braying voice cutting through the muted conversation of the other diners. "You just have to watch what the stocks are doing, then - !" He raised his left hand and clicked his fingers in lieu of an explanation. The rest of his party laughed out loud.

"Oh come on, Jonny," one of the stripe-shirted hangers-on called out. "There must be more to it than that!"

Jonathan put down his oversized glass of wine and leant forward. "Well, sometimes it's more who you know than what, yah?" He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. "But if you don't take the big risks, you don't get the big money, do you?"

"Pshaw!" Even Sir Anthony was surprised by the strength of his outburst. Everyone in the chop house turned to stare at him.

"What was that, old man?" Jonathan strode over to Sir Anthony's table.

The old man put down his newspaper and stared up. "You're just a gambler, that's all. You don't rely on knowledge. You rely on hunches and touts. You don't support businesses. You buy and sell to make a quick profit."

Jonathan smiled, exposing his teeth in a mocking rictus. "Yeah, well? Who cares? How long did it take you to make your first million? Nobody gives a shit about you and your morals. This is the '80s - yah!" He was answered by a rousing cheer from his companions.

Sir Anthony took a deep, calming breath. He did not want to be seen to back down to this popinjay. "If you're such a brilliant risk taker, then perhaps you would be willing to take on a wager? Hmm?"

"A bet?" Jonathan stood up and laughed. "You're on, old man. You're on."