But on the other hand . . . do I really want to be a banker? I wouldn’t mind the clothes-from-Karen-Millen part of it. In fact, I think I’d do that really well. But I’m not so sure about the rest. The getting-up-early-and-working-hideously-hard part. Not that I’m lazy or anything—but I quite like the fact that I can go and spend the afternoon at Image Store, or flick through the papers pretending to be doing research, and no one gives me a hard time. It doesn’t sound as if Elly will be doing much of that in her new job. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be anything remotely fun or creative about it. And aren’t bankers rather humorless? Their press conferences certainly are—so imagine working with them. It all sounds quite scary.

Hmm. If only there were some way that I could get all the nice clothes—but not have to do the dreary work. One but not the other. If only there were a way . . . My eyes are automatically flicking into all the shop windows as I pass, checking out the displays—and suddenly I stop in my tracks.

This is a sign from God. It has to be.

I’m standing outside Ally Smith—which has some gorgeous full-length coats in the window—and there’s a handwritten sign in the glass pane of the door. “Wanted. Saturday sales assistants. Inquire within.”

I almost feel faint as I stare at the sign. It’s as though lightning has struck, or something. Why on earth haven’t I thought of this before? It’s pure genius. I’ll get a Saturday job! I’ll work in a clothes shop! That way, I’ll make loads of extra money and I’ll get a discount on all the clothes! And let’s face it, working in a shop has got to be more fun than becoming a fund manager, hasn’t it? I can choose all my own clothes as I help the customers. I’ll actually be getting paid to go shopping!

This is bloody fantastic, I think, striding into the shop with a friendly smile on my face. I knew something good was going to happen today. I just had a feeling about it.

Half an hour later, I come out with an even bigger smile on my face. I’ve got a job! I’ve got a Saturday job! I’m going to work from eight-thirty to five-thirty every Saturday, and get £4.80 an hour, and 10 percent off all the clothes! And after three months, it goes up to 20 percent! All my money troubles are over.