Arts Feature: Trading places
Life as a financial trader exposed acclaimed author Aifric Campbell to the worst of human nature. Here, she tells the story of how her desire to document saw her turn to full-time writing.
I was supposed to die in 1987, when I was trading eurobonds in London on the day of the crash. My boss had been fired after an incident involving a missing hedge book. I was under the supervision of a Swiss, a scrawny old man who used to croon Jimmy Buffett songs and smoke cheroots and eat in the same Mexican restaurant every night. "The first cut is the cheapest," he'd warble, stroking his moustache...
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