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Thursday, 14 July 2016

When nothing adds up...

I really know how George Osborne, ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer, feels today.

English 1 Pound Note (1966-70) Signature J. S. Fforde Photo courtesy of

I've never really understood money.  Which is probably why I'm a writer instead of a millionaire. Take my first job as a Saturday girl in a Midlands newsagents when I was still at school. All went well on day one until my new boss hauled me into the back office and slapped a ten shilling note on the desk. (Yes - I'm THAT old!)

'It's  bit early to pay me,' I said, oblivious to  the angry face in front  of me. 'Is everything all right?'

The poor man, whose face was already a deep shade of red, almost exploded. 'No it is NOT all right,' he hissed. 'You don't seem to know the difference between ten shillings and a pound note. If you stay much longer I'll go bankrupt.'

My next weekend  job was in a local hairdressers where I washed hair, swept up and, if the staff were busy, gave clients their bills.  I got sacked again after a month.

'Could you tell me why you don't want me,' I asked the manager, trying to keep my voice steady.

'Firstly, you keeping telling everyone you want to be a newspaper reporter - this is a hair salon for heaven's sake.'  His eyes rolled heavenward. 'Your maths is terrible. You've already undercharged several ladies and let one go without paying at all.'

Undercharging the ladies! Clearly a heinous crime.

I'm sure Theresa May will never be accused of that.

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