Read Online Working Wonders by Jenny Colgan - Free Book Online Page A

ratio is like in being a vet? And not just dog slobber, either. Ohhh, no. Elephant slobber. Yuk. And have you ever seen a lizard slobber?’
    She shrugged. ‘No. Have you?’
    Arthur considered. ‘Well, no, but I’d bet it’s revolting, wouldn’t you?’
    There it was again … almost a smile. ‘What kind of a lizard?’
    ‘Oh, geckos. They’re filthy.’
    She nodded. ‘Or limpodos.’
    ‘You’re right. Even a gecko wouldn’t give house-room to a limpodo – bleargh!’
    Arthur could have sworn she nearly giggled. Then she pulled herself together and stood up, nervously tugging on her immaculately ironed blouse.
    ‘Give me those papers,’ she said. ‘ Not Sven’s, thank you.’
    Arthur picked up Sven’s and started to read. On the page was a picture of a large neutron bomb with an arrow pointing downwards towards Coventry. Oh, very funny, Arthur thought to himself. He looked over to the outside area. Gwyneth was standing next to the coffee machine, leafing through the unexpected submission from the temp, which seemed mostly to concern the amount of temporary staff required for the new-look town (lots, apparently). It was the first indication that this project might be of some interest to people outside their own small circle.
    ‘Is that about the temps?’ yelled Arthur. ‘How many?’
    ‘Everybody,’ said Gwyneth, without looking up. ‘Everyone should do their job on a temporary basis so that anyone can just move on when they feel like it. Makes everyone a lot happier when they feel footloose and fancy free, and apparently happy people don’t litter.’
    ‘Is that true?’
    ‘There’s no evidence provided.’
    ‘I’d have thought you’d have been more likely to litter when you were happy – you know, tra la la, dum de dum; I’m so comfortable with myself today I don’t even care what I throw around, la la … Wouldn’t you think?’
    ‘I don’t litter.’
    ‘Well, there you are. You’re an unhappy non-vet, and you don’t litter, so maybe the theorem is true.’
    ‘I’m not unhappy.’
    Silence fell as they skimmed through the other proposals.
    ‘Sven wants an internet connection on every park bench.’ Arthur examined it closely as Gwyneth wandered over to take a look.
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Gwyneth, ‘some other council tried that.’
    ‘What on earth for? So the flashers could get quicker access to their internet porn?’
    ‘No, to show their interconnectivity in the world. To let people get out, smell the roses, enjoy the trees. Work in different environments; experience nature.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘Oh, you know. There was a whole flasher internet porn incident and they discontinued it.’
    ‘Uh huh.’
    They continued leafing.
    ‘Marcus has laid out how much money we can spend,’ said Arthur, holding up a densely typed wad of Excel spreadsheets.
    ‘How much?’
    ‘Well, judging by these calculations here … and this table over here …’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘God, hang on …’ He paused for a minute, his brow furrowing with concern. ‘Well, it seems to say here – no, it can’t be. It looks like absolutely nothing at all. In fact, he seems to have gone into the realm of imaginary negative numbers.’
    Gwyneth squinted over at him. ‘Like how?’
    ‘Well, apparently if we did anything – anything at all , including moving from these seats, right now , we’d have to cull every lollipop lady within an eleven-mile radius.’
    ‘That can’t be right.’
    ‘God, but look at the figures. It adds up.’
    ‘We’ll get an extra budget. It’s been approved.’
    ‘It’s been spent.’ Arthur held up a second sheet. ‘It says here … “extraneous disbursements”. There you go. That’s our entire budget.’
    ‘Sixteen million pounds?’
    ‘Sixteen million pounds. I wonder what extraneous disbursements are?’
    Gwyneth stared at the paper in disbelief. ‘So you bloody should.’
    She picked up the phone. ‘Marcus?’
    The voice on the other end was