Confessions of a Reluctant Recessionista

good at hiding our true feelings.’
    The weekend after the auction was Matt and Jude’s engagement party. They had decided on a picnic on the Common for fifty or so of their closest friends. Jude’s friends Zara and Lucinda, who are both vegans, did the catering. The food was pretty much inedible. There was plenty to drink and quite a bit to smoke, though, and the combination resulted in a massive outbreak of the munchies. Eventually, Jake led a splinter faction of non-vegetarians on a run to the deli on the high street to stock up on real food.
    Vegans or no vegans, it was a glorious day. Jake and I annoyed everyone with our flagrant public displays of affection, and Ali kept everyone amused with horrendous tales of ‘the truth about pregnancy’. (She’s threatening to write a book on the subject, complete with the low-down on throwing up on the tube, chronic indigestion, stretch marks, swelling, sciatica and strangers feeling free to fondle your stomach in the supermarket.) As the sun started to set, Jude’s hippy friends performed a ‘blessing ritual’ for the happy couple which had the more cynical among us in stitches.
    After the blessing, we played a mammoth game of football, involving teams of at least twenty players each, though who was playing for which team never seemed to be completely clear. Several people, myselfincluded, took advantage of the failing light to change sides a few times depending on the score. It finished 23–19. I scored three goals, which should give you a keen sense of what the defending was like.
    When the booze finally ran out, the more hardened partygoers among us went back to our flat to open a couple of bottles of Vintage Organics’ finest. It was there that Jude dropped her bombshell.
    ‘We have to move out,’ she said, gazing mournfully into the middle distance. She was quite stoned. ‘We have to leave, Cassie.’
    ‘Why? You and Matt aren’t getting married straight away, are you – I thought you were planning on a very long engagement?’
    ‘I’m leaving the country,’ she replied. ‘In two months’ time. As soon as my course is finished.’
    ‘What? Since when? Where are you going? Why?’
    ‘Matt’s finally decided he’s had enough of being shot at on a regular basis. They’ve offered him a job at Unicef’s headquarters – it’s a really good job. And it’s in New York.’
    ‘Oh, my God, Jude, that’s amazing! New York! That’s so exciting.’
    ‘I know,’ she said, and burst into tears.
    I woke up the following morning with an aching head and only a vague recollection of my conversation with Jude. I staggered into the kitchen, where she and Matt were sitting, drinking tea, looking about as bad as I felt.
    ‘Morning,’ I said softly. They both smiled and nodded their heads very gently. ‘Anyone got any aspirin?’ Matt handed me the box. Jude pointed at the kettle. I nodded. She made me a cup of tea. For ten minutes or so, we sat in silence. Eventually, Jude spoke.
    ‘Did I tell you about the New York thing?’ she asked. ‘I can’t remember.’
    ‘You did, but I can’t remember the details. When are you actually going?’
    Matt’s new job started in June, but they were going to go over in May in order to find themselves somewhere to live and give Jude a chance to start looking for work.
    ‘So we need to give notice pretty much straight away, don’t we?’
    ‘I’m really sorry, Cassie, I know you could probably do without this right now. You could always stay here, and just get someone else to rent out the room.’
    ‘It wouldn’t be the same without you,’ I said. ‘In any case, I think I could do with a change. Plus, I happen to know someone who’s in the market for a lodger.’
    Ali was delighted when I suggested that I should move in with her.
    ‘That’ll be perfect, Cassie. I really need someone to help out with the mortgage. And of course that’ll mean you’re not just renting any more – you’ll be buying a piece of my house.’
    ‘No, Ali, I couldn’t do that – it’s your place.’
    ‘If you’re going to be paying part of the mortgage, Ithink it should be our place. Yours, mine and little Joe’s.’
    Oh, my God. I was about to become a homeowner. Or at least, a part-of-a-homeowner. How incredibly grown up of me.

21
     
    Cassie Cavanagh is moving on to greater things
    If I was going to become a homeowner, remaining in full-time employment was going to be a necessity. And I was starting to worry that I