There are four books in the Bev and Carol series (all but one are available in paperback too):
Here's the extract, where Bev and Carol take the second maths test included in the Playboy selection process:
More Maths (this time,
‘mental’)
Keith was
right, there was more to come.
‘Please record
your answers on the paper provided, clearly numbered and legibly written. Take care to keep to the correct
numbering. You will hear the questions
once and have ten seconds to calculate and note down your answer.’
We had made it
through to the final hurdle. There were
twenty-seven of us left, which meant that seven of us would not get a job,
according to a girl called Desdemona, who, apparently, hadn’t heard of a ‘geezer’
called Shakespeare.
Suddenly maths
seemed more important. I had scored
ninety-five on the written maths test, one more than Carol. Result! Keith had got eighty-three.
We were spaced
out, spatially speaking, so that copying would be impossible this time, and I
knew that I was on my own. In some
twisted way, this was invigorating as I felt, unjustifiably, that I was up to
the challenge. I flexed my mental muscles and took a deep breath – oxygen to
the brain, in lieu of a gin and tonic - memories of my French Oral exam at ‘O’
level came flooding back. Carol gave me
a look that said, ‘You have a bogey on the end of your nose.’ And I stared back with a, ‘Your right boob is
more droopy than your left one.’ We
were as relaxed as we could be under the circumstances and ready for the first
question.
‘Question one. Seven times nine?’
The numbers
fed into my brain and it spoke to me: Easy peasy. Ten sevens are seventy, less seven, means nine sevens are
sixty-three. It appeared that I had
forgotten my nine times table. Oh well,
never mind.
‘Question two. Eleven times thirteen?’
Bit more
tricky. Ten thirteens are one hundred and thirty, plus thirteen, makes one
hundred and forty-three. Thank you
brain. And so it went on. After a few
minutes, I heard a soft blubbing noise behind me, and Desdemona was led away by
one of the assistants. One down, six to go.
I looked over to where Keith was sitting and he winked at me. I stuck out my tongue and smiled broadly,
waiting for the test to continue.
‘The next five questions
require you to calculate a payout of 3:2 on an initial blackjack bet,’
announced the woman at the front of the room.
I looked over
at Carol and saw her nodding to herself.
‘Question fifteen. If a bet of £10 is placed what would be the
payout for a blackjack?’
I nodded to
myself and realised that I had no memory of the new instructions.
‘Remember, the
calculation is a payout of 3:2,’ said the woman, helpfully.
Come on brain. Three to two. £10. Times three? Divided by two? Three, six, nine, the goose drank wine, the monkey… Oh, shit!
‘Question sixteen. The same
calculation for a bet of £50?’
Write something. Write SOMETHING. We had always been taught to
write something down, even if we didn’t know the answer. What would be reasonable? Three to two. Three is more than two. I
plucked a number from nowhere and wrote it down, still trying to make sense of
the question. I imagined throwing poisoned darts at my maths teacher.
‘Question seventeen. And for a
bet of £60?’
How long could this go on for?
When would there be a question I could answer? Think! Sixty
pounds. That’s a lot of money. I could do with that in my building society
account. That would give me… How much have I got?
‘Question eighteen.’
The questions were getting faster.
That’s not really fair, is it? I looked around at the others to see whether
they agreed with me.
The woman continued, ‘The
payout on a bet of £5?’
It’s a ratio. It’s a RATIO! Three to two. If you bet
two pounds, you get three for a win. Yes! Yes!
Yes! Now, what did she say?
‘Question nineteen.’
No, wait!
‘£25?’
Right. £25.
Divide by two, equals £12.50.
Times by three, equals…
‘And the last
question. Question twenty. A bet of £250?’
£37.50. Quick, write it down. And £250?
That would be, that would be …£375.
Got it!
‘Thank you
everybody. That is the end of the
test. Please help yourself to
refreshments in the lounge area. You
will be informed of your results shortly and those of you who have been
successful will receive further instructions.
Good afternoon.’
Bloody Nora!
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