The Shift of Numbers Read Online Free Page B

pumped out from tire d cities to their homes on ever- narrowing roads.  He wondered what would happen if all the vast amounts of money that went into building roads, cars and obtaining fuel were directed into public transport. What a magnificent system it would be , he thought. I t would be nothing like this. Houses wouldn’t need to be on streets as there would be no need for parking; all the existing residential roads could be turned into lawns where children could play. Just clusters of houses all within a couple of minutes ’ walk from a public transport station. Trams, trains, high-speed can al boats, underground super- speed trains or even more futuristically , he thought, capsules. Instead of trains, you get into your own capsule, tell it w h ere you want to go and , whoosh, at high speed , you travel underground through a vast network of tunnels to your des ired location. As he pondered this , the screech of overworked brakes and a big red object filled his daydreaming eyes.
    On the bus , overhearing the mundane conversations of his fellow passengers , Gordon considered the gulf between the thoughts in his head and the reality of his situation, on the w ay to the job centre. He sighed. I’ve hated every job I have ever done, he thought , in a none-too- brief melancholic haze. 
     
    *
     
    Mary worked at the job centre . She had worked there for 5 years. She liked her job and felt like she wa s providing a valuable service to the local co mmunity. Her job mainly consisted of checking up on the people she was trying to get j obs for. To get any money off t he government her ‘clients’ had to prove that t hey were looking for work and we re making an effort. To quantify the effort of looki ng for a job, the ‘clients’ had to show that they had actively applied for at leas t 3 jobs a week or no money would be forthcomi ng. All of Mary’s ‘clients’ had to meet up with her on a weekly basis to pro ve themselves worthy of their 55 pounds a week payment from the government.
    Gordon had been seeing Mary for the last 2 weeks and he found it to be a s oul-crushing task. After their allotted 15 minutes of Mary asking him to justify what he had been doing for the last week, Gor don felt sucked dry of any self- worth. He was considering this under the cold glare of the office lighting , when the electronic bell sounded. That meant it was his turn next. Looking round to see if anyone else was next in line and realising with dismay that there wasn’t, he walked slowly over to Mary’s desk. She watched over the top of her glasses as Gordon sat down opposite her. He looked across the desk at Mary’s lined and wrinkled face , hidden behind oversized thick- rimmed glasses with that bit of string attached so she could hang them around her neck. Because of a trick of the bright office lights her glasses seemed to reflect Gordon’s face back at him, only he had an extended forehead and a giant chin. He thought about all the lines on her face as she hacked away noisil y at the keyboard with nicotine- stained fingers. It seemed she had a wrinkle for every ‘client’ she had made feel small and worthl ess, the opposite of laughter lines.
    “Hello , Gordon. H ow has your week bee n?” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. T his was her 17 th ‘client’ of the day. Gordon blinked out of his thoughts and replied, looking at his watch under the table.
    “ Okay , not bad.”
    “Hav e you brought your card?” This wa s a small piece of card that a ‘client’ wa s supposed to fill in and contained the 3 jobs they applied for in the last 7 days.
    “Yes.”
    Mary glanced at the card briefly and wrote something on a blue piece of paper. Gordon pretended to have an itch on his hand so that he could look at his watch again. 1 minute had passed.
    “Everything seems okay. There are 3 . Did you visit Pearson’s Plastics or did you ring them up on the telephone?”
    “I phoned them up, ” Gordon replied