Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Mark marks my words
Carney called this morning. With the Monetary Policy Committee looming I guessed what it was about, but he took his time getting to it. We'd met at a hockey match when he was a student, with him in goal and me ripping rents in the back of his net with supersonic swipes of my stick. He'd tried his best, but nine times out of ten the puck was past him before he'd reacted, while I was high fiving with the team mates as another score went on the board. That said he was gracious enough not to resent the pasting, and was all ears in the bar afterwards when I was slagging off Keynes and the others. So this morning he calls me and asks how the kids were, and so on, and had I seen the latest paper by Fullerman on derivative-backed currency swaps (Had I? As if.), and so on, until he brought the talk round to interest rates. It was smoothly done, and made it seem the most natural thing in the world that I should give him my opinion on where the rates should be pegged without him having sunk to asking for it. I'd have told you exactly how he'd gone about it, but I was doing a killer Sudoku at the time, so I wasn't paying that much attention.