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nervous? There was an alarm bell sounding somewhere, a note of disquiet, and so she did what she always did in these situations, which was to enumerate her worries out loud to something, an inanimate object. In her flat in Balham, this had been the photo of Kanye West on the kitchen wall (Meena was obsessed with him and knew all the words to ‘Gold Digger’).
    Now she looked around for something similar. But MrsDawlish, Miss Store’s old friend from whom Tess had rented Easter Cottage, was clearly not a fan of Late Registration . Marcus Aurelius was not suitable—the horse would get in the way. There was an old map of—shire on the wall, printed on oldeworlde textured parchment-style paper, and next to it a print of Jane Austen, the well-known watercolour by her sister Cassandra. It was a pretty shocking print, JA’s colouring resembling that of someone afflicted by a rough bout of seasickness and jaundice combined, but it was considerably better than nothing. Tess nodded.
    ‘Right,’ she said aloud. ‘Let’s go through it, one by one. OK?’
    There was a silence. She felt stupid, her voice echoing loudly in the small room. ‘OK,’ she made Jane Austen say, though she didn’t really think it was the kind of thing Jane Austen would actually say, and she made a mental note to look up the word ‘OK’ to see whether there was any record of its usage in early nineteenth-century Hampshire.
    ‘I’m worried about my new job,’ she said in a small voice, crossing her legs underneath her on the sofa. When she said it out loud, it sounded—what? Silly? Or even more terrifying than she’d thought?
    ‘And why is that?’ she heard Jane Austen say.
    ‘Erm…’ Tess screwed up her eyes and stared at the picture, to try and see that small, pursed mouth moving. ‘Well…I’m worried that, even though it’s supposed to be less of a challenge than my old job, the people are going to be more difficult.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Jane Austen asked, sounding a bit like Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins , Tess realized.
    ‘Well, I’ve got more to lose,’ Tess admitted. ‘I grew up here.’
    ‘True,’ Jane Austen said, ‘but I’d have thought teaching Classical Civilization in a failing comprehensive in South London and getting some teenagers who don’t care about anything to even remotely be interested in the Roman Empireis worth much more than impressing Mrs Flibberty-Jibbit of Langford, wouldn’t you?’
    Tess paused. Then she said, ‘Good point, there, Jane. Do you mind me calling you Jane?’
    ‘I do, rather. I prefer Miss Austen. Next?’
    ‘Well, I’m worried about money.’
    ‘Aren’t we all, dearie,’ said Jane Austen. Tess realized she was now making her sound like someone from a Carry On film. ‘Proceed, my dear Tess,’ she amended.
    ‘I need a flatmate, otherwise I’m screwed,’ she said. ‘I’m really stupid.’
    ‘Yes, that is rather naive of you, committing to this house without a companion to share the rent,’ said Jane Austen. ‘Did you place an advertisement outside the inn?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Tess.
    ‘Well, why don’t you go down the pub tonight and ask Mick if anyone’s interested?’ That wasn’t quite right. ‘Mayhap you should repair to the inn and enquire as to the results of yon advertisement placement.’
    ‘I was in there yesterday…and the day before,’ Tess said sadly. ‘He’s going to think I’m stalking him.’
    ‘Ask Adam to meet you there, then,’ said Jane Austen, rather impatiently.
    Tess sighed. ‘I texted him. He said he’s busy tonight.’ She cupped her chin in her hands and said gloomily, ‘He wouldn’t tell me what he was doing, either. I think he’s bored of me. Already. He’s my only blimming friend here and he’s trying to ditch me.’
    She breathed out heavily, making a sound like a car engine winding down.
    ‘Well,’ said Jane Austen reasonably, ‘it sounds to me as if you are in need of some new acquaintance. After all, you left