An oeuf is an oeuf
JACQUES Attali, the hero of my knock- knock headline (Attali who? Attali and completely over the top), likes to do things in style — his own style, that is. At the Berd, which he tries not to call the Euro- pean Bank for Reconstruction and De- velopment, he has a private jet, lent to him, so it appears, by his old boss and friend Francois Mitterrand. Pointing its nose towards Prague, he went off to see Vaclav Havel, senior judge of the Berd's logo competition and in his spare time President of Czechoslovakia. Mr Attali strode towards him, crying, 'I bring you greetings from the world's first democratic bank!' That seems a bit rough on the Co-op. I was saying last week that the Berd needed directors who could bring it down to earth. A tough egg from the Bank of England or the Treasury? But I find that the British director has been lent by the Ministry of Mars Bars (alias Overseas Development Administration) and would, so I am told, be recognised by M. Attali as an oeuf mollet. His name is Tony Faint.
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