Building (doesn’t) buy a pint …

“We could build in London non-stop for ever and a day. As a global city it sucks in people and you can never meet demand,” says Jim, who seems awed by the prospect.

For a moment everyone is lost for words. The sun begins to set; we all gaze at the capital from 42 storeys up and sip our pink champagne.

John is the first to break the silence. He’s keen to take us on a virtual tour of all the capital’s “value hotspots” before darkness falls. We start in the East End where John indicates all the regeneration that is to take place in the Thames Gateway, on the Olympic site and the Lee Valley.

It’s this sort of strategic planning that London needs says John, with a sweeping motion of this hand. In fact, when Ken Livingstone gets his new planning powers, he’ll be able to drive through regeneration without the log-jams.

Jim is quick to make clear that “local accountability” for planning decisions is still essential.

John concedes that planning needs checks and balances – a strong individual and a collective local voice. “I’m a democrat,” he states firmly, and nobody dissents.

We’re now looking out at Arsenal’s Emirates stadium. Everyone agrees this is the perfect example of the private sector helping to regenerate an area. But, despite our best efforts, the conversation veers from affordable housing to the less worthy topic of football.

It turns out that King Sturge has a corporate box at Arsenal. Then John reveals he’s a Fulham fan, which is news to Thomas. “Are you Fulham? I can’t believe it, I’ve got a season ticket.”

John is quick to see the potential: “You’re gonna take me to a game then. I only live a few minutes down the road.”

Jim, a Yorkshireman, is less than impressed – he’s a dedicated Leeds supporter. He used to enjoy playing, too. “Every Sunday, till my knees packed in,” he says with regret.

By this time we’ve passed the King’s Cross site and have finished up at Elephant & Castle. But the talk has leap-frogged to the RICS charity quiz night and its James Bond theme. John’s team, he asserts, was in joint first place until a tricky question about the Octopussy theme tune. For a moment, he is tempted to sing it to us.

The bill arrives – the moment I’ve been dreading even more than John’s singing. John takes out his credit card. It’s clear Building’s attempt to buy a pint is about to be undermined. I protest, but not too much. At £70 for a bottle of bubbly, it seems only right that the property consultant is allowed to demonstrate its largesse …