‘It will take you a weekend max’ Lise had promised me on the phone the week before, but as she thrust her mobile into my hand, I wasn’t so sure. ‘But you’re so much better than me!’ Lise claimed, with that sweet look on her face I always relented to. I dialled the number of the first circled ad in Loot and ten minutes later our day was mapped out. Brick Lane at 11am, Old Street at midday, Highgate at three and stopping off at an agency in Oxford Circus somewhere in between.
‘Breakfast?’ Lise enquired. Typical, we hadn’t even begun the search and she was already thinking about food. We left Lise’s parents' cool art-deco flat at the Barbican and headed towards a café near St Paul’s. If only we could afford somewhere like this, I thought, it was so central and in such a fantastic area. No chance on my start rate at LawWorks, I thought resentfully. My phone vibrated. Text message. Taylor. ‘Hope the flat hunting’s going well. Can’t wait to see you next weekend. Love you babe xxx.’ No time for that now. Delete.