It’s 1973, opposite the Bombay Stock Exchange, and a young man called Nauzer – son of a humble Irani café owner – has turned his late father’s little place into the swishest café in town. He’s the bachelor stockbroker everyone trusts with their life savings, the room is full of film stars, gangsters, journalists and socialites, and everything is glittering… until one very bad deal means he is suddenly, spectacularly, in way over his head. The phone is ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

It’s pure 1970s Bombay finance-meets-intrigue, and the whole restaurant is designed around it – all modern furniture, rosewood, cut-glass and the faint whiff of impending scandal.

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