The Shift of Numbers Read Online Free

gues and computed the results. I t’s on an upward spike.”
    “So it’s on the up?”
    Richard didn’t need to see Pete to know that he was scratching his head. “In a manner of speaking… yes , it is , my friend. The strike will end soon and the stock p rice will rise again. You and Jo an will both be very rich. I would only give the best advice to friends of my parents. Was there anything else , Pete?”
    “Well…no. I suppose everything will be okay .”
    This was Richard’s last phone call before the stock market closed for the day. He h ad a full evening planned too. H e was trying out a new c arrot risotto and he had just bought a juicer to make carrot milkshakes with. Richard’s fiancé e was getting a little concerned with his new - found obsession with all things carrot. It seemed to her that in the last 2 weeks Richard hadn’t had 1 meal that didn’t contain at least 90% carrot.
     
    *
     
    It was official: after 2 weeks the strike was over. The share price had dropped to a new record low of 79p , but in Bill ’ s eyes things could only get better. Over the last 2 weeks all of his 27 staff members had arrived every morning, co vered their faces with a fresh coat of orange paint and climbed back into their holes. It was agreed in the long and difficult negotiations that the workers new hourly rate would increase to 4.98 pounds per hour with a new overtime rate of 5.23 pounds per hour. The foreman was particularly clever in his inclusion of an overtime rate as he knew there were no carrots in the field at the moment and the workers would be called upon to work extra to rectify the problem. Bill ’ s current problem was that he needed to grow a large amount of carrots in a very short amount of time otherwise he would be dangerously close to going bankrupt. In the spirit of goodwill that had descended upon the farm he had decided to push all his current worries to the back of his mind and take the workers to the local pub to celebrate the end of the strike.
    The local pub had a slight ly damp smell to it and was constructed to look like an affable non-descript version of every other public house in the land . The builders had succeeded admirably and were awarded a contract by the brewery to build 14 other pubs in the country, all absolutely identical, apart from the name.
    The workers were enjoying the drinks Bill had b ought for them in the lounge while Bill, who had more pressing problems to think about, sat at a table on his own in the bar. Nursing a large brandy , Bill stared into the empty ashtray in front of him and considered his lack of carrots and wh at that spelled for the future: n o wife, no farm, no money, no job, no prospects.
    “I know who you are,” c ame a voice from the gloom. The face attached to the voice bel onged to a middle- aged man with very red cheeks and overgrown eyebrows.
    “I would appreciate being left alone , please , ” Bill responded curtly.
    “I know all about your problem.” The face came a bit closer and the owner of the face sat down opposite Bill.
    “What’s it got to do with you?”
    “Well,” cough , “I know you need a lot of carrots and quick.”
    “Well , friend,” said Bill leaning forward and loo king as menacing as he could, “m ost people around here know that. What’s it to you?”
    “I have a solut…” cough , “…ion”
    “A w hat?”
    “A solution . ”
    Puzzled, Bill looked on. “How could you have a solution? What’ya mean by that , squire?”
    “I’m a scientist. I have a…” extended bout of coughing , “… a batch of super growing formula, especially for carrots.”
    “You mean like a fertili s er?”
    “A bit like fertili s er, only better. It will re duce the growing time of your average carrot by a half.”
    “Really? Seems a bit far- fetched to me, does that.”
    “I can assure you that, excuse m e,” the Scientist noisily cleared his throat while Bill looked on wit h interest, “t he formula ( or fertili s er