**Diary Entry**
I shouldve been at the interview by now, but instead, I was kneeling on a crowded pavement in London, helping an elderly man whod collapsed. Of all the days for this to happen! I opened my purse and counted the few crumpled pound notes inside, exhaling sharply. Money was running dangerously low, and landing a decent job in this city was proving harder than Id ever imagined. I mentally tallied what little we hadtwo frozen chicken thighs, some ready-made burgers, rice, pasta, and a box of tea bags. A loaf of bread and a pint of milk from the corner shop would have to do for now.
Mum, where are you going? Little Emily dashed out of her room, her wide brown eyes searching my face.
Nothing to fret about, love, I said, forcing a smile. Mums off to a job interview. Aunt Lucy and Oliver will be here soon to keep you company.
Olivers coming? Emilys face lit up, her hands clapping excitedly. Will they bring Biscuit?
Biscuit was Lucys tabby, a fluffy ball of affection Emily adored. Lucy, my neighbour, had offered to watch her while I headed into Central London for an interview at a food distribution company. Getting there meant a long slog on the Tubemore time commuting than the interview itself would take.
It had been over two months since Emily and I moved to the city. I cursed my impulsive decisionuprooting our lives, burning through savings on rent and groceries, all on a gamble that work would come quickly. But Londons job market was ruthless. Two degrees and relentless determination hadnt made a stable position any easier to find. Back home in Bath, my mum, Margaret, and my younger sister, Sophie, relied on me as the familys rock. They werent exactly managing well without me.
Biscuits staying home, love, I said gently. He doesnt like the Tube. But well visit Aunt Lucys soon, and you can cuddle him all you want.
I want a cat too! Emily pouted, crossing her arms.
I shook my head with a quiet laugh. This was her routine whenever pets came up. Back in Bath, at Mums place, wed left behind Smokey, our sleek black cat, and a yappy little terrier named Gizmo. Emily missed them terribly.
Sweetheart, this is a rented flat, I explained. The landlord doesnt allow pets.
Not even a goldfish? Emilys eyebrows shot up.
Not even a goldfish.
Right now, pets were the least of my worries. My mind was fixed on one thing: finding work. The last of my savings were dwindling, and every day brought fresh dread. At least Id paid six months rent upfront, but that had nearly cleaned me out.
The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. Lucy and her five-year-old, Oliver, stood at the door. True to form, Lucy carried a tub of homemade chocolate digestives and a slice of her mums famous lemon drizzle cake. Like me, she was a single mumonly she still lived with her parents in a cramped flat nearby. Saving up for her own place in London? Might as well try winning the lottery.
