The Eye of Zoltar

‘Floated myself. It’s very simple. If you consider that I have a value doing handmaideny things, then I could incorporate myself as a company named “Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd”. I could then sell – or float – myself to buyers with the value split into one hundred shares. If you bought ten shares in Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd, I would give ten per cent of my sixty-hour working week to you, or six hours.’

‘Wouldn’t just selling your time on an hourly basis work better?’ I asked.

‘This is much better,’ said the Princess with a grin, ‘because those Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd shares are tradable. Gripper had a sixty per cent share but Curtis retained thirty per cent, which he immediately sold for seventy plotniks a share. Not a great price, but for an unknown commodity – me – it was the best price he could get.’

‘So then what happened?’

‘Okay, so to raise the value of Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) stock I spent two hours being useful – making beds, walking dogs, washing up, polishing shoes, that sort of thing – and pretty soon everyone wanted a piece of Laura Scrubb to do their menial tasks for them and I was trading at two hundred plotniks a share. So the value of Laura Scrub (Handmaiden) Ltd went from seventy plotniks at flotation to two hundred a share in just two hours. Are you following me so far?’

‘Kind of. So … Gripper’s shareholding is now worth almost three times what he paid for it?’

‘That’s pretty much it. Okay, now this is where it gets good. See that woman behind the bar?’

We turned to see a kindly-looking woman with long black hair and a red face. She was chatting with another customer.

‘Yes?’

‘That’s Madge Ryerson. She’s a lovely lady but the worst gossip imaginable. Whisper something to her and it’s all around town in a matter of minutes. I suggested to her that I do ironing as part of my handmaiden duties.’

‘No one likes ironing,’ said Wilson. ‘Out here, a well-ironed shirt is hugely prestigious.’

‘Exactly,’ said the Princess. ‘Within twenty minutes Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd was trading at almost a thousand plotniks a share. In fact, shares in the Cambrian Railway Company fell as people sold those shares to buy into Laura Scrubb. And those that couldn’t buy shares bought options to buy shares if they became available. I had Madge put it about that I can make a cracking apple and blackberry crumble and an hour later, shares in Laura Scrubb had peaked at three and a half thousand plotniks a share – the highest climb ever recorded on the Llangurig Stock Exchange.’

‘But listen,’ I said as the sandwiches arrived, ‘you don’t know the first thing about ironing. Hardly anyone does. The Guild of Master Ironers keep that secret arcane knowledge well guarded.’

‘I know, so this is the clever bit, and you have to pay attention. I kept ten per cent of myself as payment for setting up Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd, and at that peak value, my ten shares were worth thirty-five thousand plotniks, and I then sold them.’

‘Wouldn’t people get worried you were selling all your own shares?’ asked Wilson. ‘I mean, it’s a bit suspicious, don’t you think?’

‘Good point,’ said the Princess, ‘so I set up a series of bogus companies so no one would know. I had the butcher’s boy and the blacksmith’s apprentice sell my shares for me a few minutes before trading ended. Then, the next morning – this morning, in fact – I denied I knew anything about ironing or apple and blackberry crumble, then put it about that I was going down with the mumps and would be unable to work for a month.’

‘In order to lower the value of your shares?’ I asked.

‘Bingo. By ten o’clock, the share price at Laura Scrubb (Handmaiden) Ltd had bottomed out at one plotnik a share, and I then used the profit I gained last night to buy back all the shares. Once everyone had been paid off – Madge, the butcher’s boy, a few dodgy accountants and several ratings agencies I omitted to tell you about for simplicity – I was twenty thousand better off and Laura Scrubb is a free woman. Admittedly,’ she concluded, ‘I lost half the profit on my ill-conceived goat commodities speculation. But I’m still flush – the sandwiches are on me!’

We all fell silent for a moment, musing on how basic the stock market seemed, and how easily it could be manipulated for gain.

‘You like economics, don’t you?’ I asked.

‘Everyone should know the basics,’ said the Princess. ‘Lasting peace will only be brought about through economic means – we should be trading with the Trolls rather than fighting them.’

‘Good luck with that one,’ I said, knowing how humans and Trolls like to fight to the death at every opportunity. ‘But listen, Laura, wasn’t any of that trading a teensy-weensy bit illegal? I mean, Gripper O’Rourke lost almost everything he put in, and all those people who bought shares in you are now out of pocket.’