Ollie Barnes walked into the town hall, with his Accountant, Morton Olsen behind him. People nodded and smiled at him and a couple of them shook his hand as he walked through the lobby.
He was thirty years old and a shade over six foot. Good looking and friendly, he didn't have any problems with the opposite sex. It also probably helped that he was a millionaire and the owner of City, the town's Premier League football club.
Morton was a bit older at 35; and with his thinning, blonde, shoulder length hair and round glasses, he looked more like a wannabe musician than an Accountant.
They reached an office with the legend "Sports and Leisure" on the door, knocked and entered.
Two council workers were waiting for them, and a pre-pubescent fat girl of about twelve was sitting eating sweets. A sign on the wall announced "Bring Your Kids to Work, Friday."
Sally Johnson, an obese woman of about forty, with lots of scarves and cheap jewellery, opened the conversation. "The council can't afford to subsidise a football club any more, Ollie."
David Carruthers, her fellow civil servant, a grey man in a cheap suit, with a beaten down look on his face, attempted to sympathise with Ollie, whining, "City brought a lot of money to this town, Sally."
Sally replied sharply. "Those days are long gone, David. The Council's been paying 50 per cent of the lease on the ground for years now, and it's got to stop."
David sat back in his seat, defeated and clearly out of the fight.
Ollie ignored him and with obvious contempt spoke directly to Sally. "I'm working to turn it around."
Casey crunched a sweet and Sally looked at her reprovingly. Morton joined in. "Let's be fair, Sally. Ollie's put a helluva lot of his own money into the club, and by extension into the town. The role of the council should be to encourage investors; not to kick them when they're down."
Sally replied sharply, "I know what the council's role is, thank you very much."
Ollie tried again. "If you can just give me a couple of more years, Sally, we'll be totally self-sufficient.
If you pull the council's support now, I can't afford this on my own."
"We've all had to tighten our belts," said Sally in the patronising manner, of someone promoted way above their competence.
Ollie looked at Sally and then at her daughter eating sweets. Sally saw his look and frowned.
"I'm sorry, Ollie, you've got until the end of the season. After that we need payment in advance for the next season or we take the ground."
Ollie stood up. "My old man supported this club for forty years. Before he died, I promised him I'd pass the club on to my kids. I'm not gonna let a jobsworth like you change that!"
Morton grabbed his arm and steered him towards the door "C'mon Ollie, let's go."