It quotes the mystery tenant's chief press officer: 'We are here because Broadgate is not only in the heart of the City of London but is particularly well-suited to meet the needs of an international financial institution (Clue A) . . . Our building here has been adapted to suit our particular needs (Clue B), and, . . . these needs are quite different from the requirements of an ordinary bank (Clue C).
Clue B was the big giveaway, of course. The mystery tenant is the EBRD. It's a bit strange, you may think, that Ms Barbara Clay's list of adaptations to the building includes a large boardroom, two floors of offices for directors and their flunkeys, and 'substantial interpretation facilities', but not the marbled entrance halls. Still, 'We find this a lovely place to be,' she breathes. So they should: it's cost them squillions of pounds.
It's possible that the eulogistic piece was written before the refurb furore. But we suspect instead the heavy hand of the PR man, Doctor Pangloss.
LAST MONTH, in the Royal Albert Hall, a man told Lloyd's of London members he was 'pretty confident' that 30 members had taken their lives because of the horrific insurance losses. How did he know, he was later asked by the chairman? 'Ah. Trust me. I'm a water diviner.'
THE ONLY place to be this morning is Rainham, Essex, for there you can rake through the ashes of Rosehaugh's offices before putting in a tender to buy some of the contents. Among the 357 lots are 'over one hundred various telephone directories and Yellow Pages' - my, don't they sound a sexy buy. But a marble-topped sideboard could be useful.
Also on offer, according to the catalogue, are an 'Aerobicycle', and a 'Computerow' rowing machine. And a deep fat fryer. And eight staplers and six paper punches. Get on down.Reuse content