During the days following the arrival of the helicopter we had to be careful as there were Fashion police guarding the aircraft and those off duty wandered about as though they owned the place. We were obliged to look after them, cooking and cleaning, carrying and fetching, they did not do a hand's turn for themselves and the women were very weary by the time several more helicopters arrived to remove them as soon as the repairs to the downed machine were effected.

For the first time I saw one of the Company Men - not one of this world in their employ but one wearing a golden tunic. He was decidedly too plump for the cut of it, his face had an unhealthy flush of red, and his mousey blond curls were thinning and rather badly permed. He peered around shortsightedly, and gave orders in a squeaky voice.

The men he brought with him to do the work were of an altogether different type - far too sharp. It was one of them who oversaw the unloading of the meals to replace those eaten by the fashion police - and the three of me went to get them. We made the mistake of calculating the number of meals eaten, the number of meals we had put into the baskets and how many more were needed to make up the number far too quickly and easily.

I turned and requested another two boxes, and then saw the expression on the man's face.

'So you can calculate - who taught you?'
'Granddad.' said the Captain, quickly. 'Is there something wrong?'
He gave a nasty grin.
'Oh no - I think we can find you some work at the local depot.'
'Oh no.' I gasped, for I had just finished planting the walled garden with the vegetable seeds I had brought with me.

Next day we were moved to the local depot, and were set to work in an office there, where the paperwork was in considerable disarray and the accounts were in disorder. It seemed that they had had no one numerate working there for years, and no one working really cared - but there had been an audit done and they had been given a warning that things had to be done better, and that the errors in previous years had to be resolved.

For three weeks we worked accurately and diligently, and things began to add up. At the end of the month we were sent to the regional HQ with the paperwork for the last decade.

That was the first time we traveled in a ring car. It was just a small one, with a ring that traveled only vertically, and from inside the car it was totally uneventful. There was a slight jolt - a safety feature which ensured that the whole car was transported, apparently, and then the door was opened and we stepped out into a hall busy with people, and where there were eight sets of the small rings and one large one.

It must have been a railway station at one time, and there were platforms around it for trains. A steam train was departing as we arrived, clanking and hissing dismally, it seemed in dire need of maintenance.

We were led to a magnificent town hall, where we presented the paperwork and waited until the clerks there were satisfied that it tallied with their records. A rather shrunken elderly man in a gold tunic came to look at us.

'So - did you do the work on the accounts?' he enquired.
'Yes, Sir,' said the Captain. 'It was very difficult.'
'I expect it was. You can work here now. The locals have no ability with figures, at least not the men.'
The Chorister gave a little cry of alarm, and I felt my shoulders sink, but we were ushered away to a room full of desks and boxes of papers, and told to get busy.