Dead Cat Bounce by Nic Bennett Page B

back to the screen and sat there transfixed by the number. It was pulsing in time to the music, changing color and rippling. In Jonah’s mind it had a life of its own. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
    He was vaguely aware of Amelia materializing next to him carrying a tray of champagne glasses high above her head. “Ooo Baron, that’s a very big one,” she cooed as she offered him the first glass, but it was only when Dog grabbed his arm and put a glass of champagne in his hand that Jonah tore his eyes away from the number before him.
    “Come on, mate! I didn’t like you before, always hanging around, but you’re one of us today,” Dog said, grinning feverishly. “Made me a hundred quid and a monster bonus. Grab my back, we’re going to start a conga!” He turned around and started dancing in between the desks, shouting, “Conga! Conga!”
    Jonah snorted at Dog’s honesty, stood up, placed the champagne glass on the desk, and fell in behind. Before he knew it, he was grinning madly and shouting, “I’m going to be a trader when I grow up!”
    Within seconds the rest of the team had joined them, and they congaed around the Bunker, glasses of champagne in their hands, singing along with the Baron. Around and around they danced, summoning the other traders as they moved out to the main part of the floor, the conga line growing longer and longer.
    Suddenly Jonah felt a hand on his shoulder, sliding down to grab the top of his arm roughly and forcing him out of the conga line. It was David Lightbody, grim-faced and angry. “That’s enough!” he screamed above the noise. “You’re out of here, Jonah.”
    “But Dad, I’m having fun,” Jonah shouted back. “And you’re the one who said I could come back!”
    “I don’t care, Jonah. Your time here is
over
.”
    With that, Jonah’s father began to propel his son away from the Bunker. As he passed the Baron, he yelled, “I said no funny business! He’s a kid. Keep your circus to yourself and your bunch of clowns.”
    The Baron sneered, put his fists up in a mock fighting pose, and carried on singing, “Hope you guessed my name.”
    Jonah felt as if the Baron was looking directly at him alone, singing at him and no one else. He started squirming, trying to break free. “Let go of me, Dad! I don’t want to go.”
    But David gripped tighter and pushed harder as the conga approached them around the other side of the desk and all the traders started pointing at them like football fans. Dog leaned into David Lightbody’s face, his teeth bared, and screamed, “Aggggghhh” as they went by, but David didn’t react. He just pushed Jonah on toward the exit, Jonah wriggling as the conga line snaked on without him.
    “Why do I have to go? What have I done wrong? Tell me! Tell me!” he shouted until the doors closed behind them, killing the sound, killing the song.

CHAPTER 11
    Once they were outside, David changed his grip and grabbed Jonah’s hand, pulling him down the corridor toward the escalators. He was walking so fast that Jonah had to run.
    Jonah tried again to understand why his father was so angry. “What have I done wrong?” he pleaded.
    “You? Uh, nothing,” David said, his pace as fast as ever.
    “So why did I have to leave?”
    “I never should have allowed you near that lunatic,” David snapped, and shaking his head, he added, “And then I let you back there. Twice!”
    “But it was brilliant!” Jonah declared, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. They were now heading down to the lobby with its shark tank. “We made one hundred and twenty-three million dollars in one morning.”
    “You made! You made!” David exploded. “That type of money doesn’t come without a price. He’ll bring the whole bank down oneday, if not even more than that.”
    “What do you mean?” Jonah asked. They were on the pavement now, Jonah’s father hailing a black taxi.
    “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.” He had his mobile phone