Jenny was feeling good about life.
She’d successfully pitched an article to Yahoo News exploring the politics of Tinder amongst the homeless and was looking forward to updating the ‘published works’ section of he LinkedIn.
There hadn’t been any talk of money, but she was sure a company probably valued at tens of billions of dollars would readily shell out for eight hundred words and three original photos.
Jenny needed some paid work to show her parents that paying her rent for a year was in fact a sound investment and that she would very soon be working as a professional journalist.
She had made the trip down to her parent’s home in Winchester to surprise them with laundry and her anecdotes about her unpaid internship at a fashion magazine that went online only and then closed completely the next week.
Jenny found the house empty – a friendly list of instructions for a neighbour to water the plants and feed the fish. They’d gone away somewhere nice and not told her.
After a little while contemplating how she’d never noticed the way the house smelled when she had been living there, and a little while longer enjoying a soak in the free standing bathtub she missed so much in her flat share in Dalston, Jenny rummaged through the towering American style fridge freezer that stood opposite the AGA.
She filled her rucksack with prawns and Häagen-Dazs, frozen sprouts, and an icy bottle of Waitrose Gin.
“Stopped by to say ‘hi’ but you weren’t in! Got some BIG NEWS about the career, give me a call when you’re back from wherever. P.s .Borrowed some prawns”
Jenny rewrote the post-it note several times in order to perfect the combination of cheery punctuation and suitably upbeat language so as to make the unannounced visit seem as jaunty and benign as possible.
It was a long bus ride back to the flat and the bag full of stolen food was uncomfortably cold on her lap.