Confessions of a Reluctant Recessionista

hands together. ‘There you go. That should work now.’
    ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You’re a life saver. Can I offer you a cup of tea?’
    ‘I’d better be off, actually,’ he said.
    ‘OK then. Well, thanks again for helping.’ I tried tosound as breezy as possible. I didn’t want to show that I was a little disappointed.
    ‘Any time,’ he said, putting on his coat. ‘If you ever have a plumbing emergency, I am at your service.’ I opened the front door for him to go. He just stood there, looking at me.
    ‘What?’ I asked. ‘Changed your mind about the tea?’
    ‘Do you like films?’ he asked.
    ‘Everyone likes films, don’t they?’
    ‘Yeah, OK. How about French films? It’s just there’s a thing on at the Ritzy, called Entre les Murs . It’s supposed to be very good. I wondered if you fancied going one night?’
    ‘Sounds lovely,’ I said. A bit cultural for a first date, but I suppose it would give us something to talk about afterwards in case conversation dried up.
    ‘Good. I’ll call you, then.’
    Yes, yes, yes!
    That evening Jude came back from college laden with gifts: a Thai curry, a bottle of wine and a book called Less is More! How to be Happy Without Spending Money .
    ‘What have I done to deserve all this?’ I asked, delighted (with the takeout and the booze, in any case).
    ‘I just thought you needed spoiling,’ she said. ‘I am sorry that you hurt yourself this morning …’
    ‘Jude, it’s nothing …’
    ‘No, but it could have been much worse. And I’vebeen hard on you lately. I know. I think I’m just stressed with college stuff and missing Matt …’
    For the second time in as many days I realised how selfish I could be. Just because Jude doesn’t make a fuss about it doesn’t mean that it isn’t hard for her to spend nine months of the year away from the man she loves.
    The two of us flicked through the book over dinner. It was written by someone called Araminta Foster who was clearly much too posh ever to have done a day’s work, or indeed to worry about money, throughout her entire life. Most of it was ridiculous, a lot of guff about making jam and sewing skirts with elasticated waistbands. There were some useful things, though. The addresses of websites with cheap, organic beauty products, for example, or companies like ArmCandy that let you hire a statement handbag instead of buying one. Araminta also suggested clothes swapping parties.
    ‘I love that idea,’ I said to Jude. ‘I was thinking I should have people round more, you know, entertain at home instead of going out, and I desperately need to revamp my wardrobe.’ Jude rolled her eyes. As far as she’s concerned I am the lovechild of Carrie Bradshaw and Imelda Marcos.
    ‘No, I do, I really do. I need job interview outfits, something to wear for my date with Jake …’
    ‘Oh, my God, he asked you out!’ she shrieked excitedly, almost choking on her Pad Thai. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’
    ‘Well, I’m telling you now. We’re going to the cinema sometime next week.’
    ‘Then we’ll have to do the clothes swap party this weekend.’

12
     
    Cassie Cavanagh will never be a sushi chef
    When I signed up for those market research groups a few weeks back, I’d hoped that I would never actually have to attend them. But desperate times call for desperate measures. With time and money running out fast, I had no choice but to turn up at the nondescript building in Borough where, apparently, teams of marketers attempt to find out why we buy the mayonnaise we do in the quantities that we buy it.
    I arrived dressed in some baggy jeans, a slightly grubby and oversized jumper and trainers. I had not bothered to wash my hair the day before, nor had I applied any make-up. I was, after all, supposed to be the thirty-something mother of two small children. A young woman holding a clipboard greeted me at the door. She was dressed in a blue skirt and pillarbox red jacket, and she looked like a British Airways stewardess.
    ‘Hello,’ she said, warmly shaking me by the hand, ‘and you are?’
    ‘Celia Wicks,’ I replied.
    ‘You’ve come all the way from Kettering, I see. We can give you travel expenses as well as the fifty pounds for attendance.’
    Score.
    ‘Your children not with you then?’ she said, looking around anxiously, imagining perhaps that I’d left them on the pavement outside, tied to a lamppost.
    ‘No, I’m afraid that Rosie, my youngest, had a bit of a