The next morning when she was about to leave for work, Imogen almost tripped over a newspaper that had been placed outside her bedroom door. For a moment Imogen thought her mum had been going through the lonely hearts columns and she felt angry. She’d argued with her mum most of the previous evening, coming up with every reason under the sun why she couldn’t possibly contemplate starting a relationship with anyone else while her mum countered with all the reasons why she could and should. Imogen was tempted to throw the newspaper away without looking at it, when she noticed that what had been ringed in red biro was not anything to do with dating. It was a job advert- one of the local schools was looking for a new English teacher.
Imogen sagged against the wall in the landing and stared at the advert. It made her feel all sorts of conflicted emotions- fear, sadness, excitement, hope. She worked now in the same café where she had had a Saturday job as a teenager, just like she now lived at home with her mum as she had done as a teenager, as though becoming a widow at twenty-eight had made her regress back to childhood. She threw the newspaper into her bedroom and closed the door. She’d look at it later. Or maybe she wouldn’t.