Helen Nyman is a central deuteragonist whose complex relationship with István drives his rise and fall in London. She evolves from a wealthy, seemingly detached wife into a figure who is consumed by a dependent and destructive love for István. Initially, her motivation for pursuing him arises from a mixture of boredom and loneliness, as well as a desire for the raw physicality he represents. When she bluntly tells him, “You know I’ve got the hots for you, don’t you?” (139), this comment establishes the fact that their entire relationship is built upon a foundation of sexual transaction. She wields her wealth as a tool of control and affection, purchasing István’s acceptance into her world through bespoke suits, a luxury apartment, and the financing of his business ventures. This dynamic positions her as his patron and him as her dependent, complicating the power balance between them from the outset.

As their relationship deepens, Helen’s motivations become more complex, and she develops a genuine emotional dependency on István, confiding in him and eventually declaring her love. Yet although she seeks his support during her husband’s illness and her son’s difficult adolescence, their connection is perpetually shadowed by its transactional origins. Any emotional intimacy that she offers is always underpinned by her financial power, which she uses to facilitate István’s social transformation and bind him to her. This blend of authentic feeling and economic control makes her a tragic figure, and her attempt to find fulfillment outside her first marriage by effectively purchasing a new life with a new man leads to the alienation of her son, the financial ruin of her family’s trust, and the eventual imprisonment of the man she has come to love. Her story serves as a prime exploration of The Transactional Nature of Human Relationships, demonstrating that love, when intertwined with vast imbalances of power and wealth, can become a force of destruction.

Thomas Nyman functions as the primary antagonist and a foil to István. A round but largely static character, he represents the established, inherited privilege that István can only imitate. From the beginning, Thomas views István as a usurper and a threat to his inheritance, his mother’s affection, and his family’s integrity. Thomas’s core motivation is a deep and abiding resentment for István, and he holds the firm perception that István is a fraud. As he bitterly confesses to a friend, “I don’t like the way he’s using my mother” (207), and this sentiment hardens over years of observation into a justified conviction that István is a thief.

Thomas plays a crucial role as the catalyst for the novel’s climax and István’s subsequent downfall. Throughout István’s years with Helen, Thomas remains a simmering, resentful presence, as he refuses to accept István’s carefully constructed performance of belonging. Thomas’s public confrontation with István at the art gallery is the moment the façade shatters, for when he accuses István of stealing from him, this declaration strikes at the heart of István’s insecurity, triggering the violent outburst that destroys his career, family, and freedom. Thomas’s final act of launching a legal challenge to reclaim the funds loaned from the family trust serves as the ultimate narrative judgment on István’s life, reducing István’s years of social climbing and apparent success to ruins and reinforcing the illusion of social mobility.

The unnamed neighbor who lives opposite István in his youth is a flat character who serves as a significant catalyst in his early development. However inappropriately, she initiates his sexual awakening, and their abusive relationship is the novel’s first clear depiction of intimacy as a transaction. In exchange for István’s help carrying her shopping, she offers him desserts and eventually entices him into giving and receiving sexual favors. This arrangement establishes a dysfunctional pattern for all of István’s future relationships with women, framing them as exchanges of goods and services rather than purely emotional connections. The affair ends in adolescent turmoil when István professes his love and cannot face her rejection, which he is emotionally ill-equipped to process. His confused and violent reaction—forcefully seeking her out at her apartment—leads to the accidental death of her husband, and this pivotal event introduces the destructive link between emotional distress and physical aggression that will define much of his life.

Mervyn, a wealthy businessman in London, serves as a mentor figure who engineers István’s entry into the world of elite security. A flat character, his primary role in the novel is to recognize István’s raw potential and refine it for a wealthy clientele. He is the architect of István’s social transformation, teaching him that status is a performance that requires the correct attire, speech, and behavior. In many ways, Mervyn “grooms” István as thoroughly as the protagonist’s neighbor once did, if for a different purpose, for the man’s guidance is not altruistic; he explicitly states that his efforts are an “investment” (124), and this declaration reinforces the novel’s overarching theme of human relationships as fundamentally transactional. In this way, Mervyn embodies the cynical pragmatism of the world István seeks to enter, where even mentorship is a calculated business venture.

As a static and flat minor character, István’s mother functions as an anchor to his humble origins. She is a constant presence at the beginning and end of his life’s trajectory, always inhabiting the same modest, prefabricated apartment. This home stands in stark contrast to the opulent mansions of István’s life in London and reminds him of the humble class identity he can never truly escape. His mother’s unchanging circumstances and unwavering, simple support highlight the artificiality of István’s constructed life, and when he finally returns to her home, this moment signifies the complete collapse of his social ambitions and the cyclical nature of his story.