I was up late, staring at the initial plan Karen and I put together, and trying to determine what event we could pull off before next Monday – something capable of raising enough money to show our strategy could succeed. The one thing on our list that just might work is renting a community stall at Camden Market this weekend. Jeremy’s office is in Camden, and I’m sure the council would love to help a local charity. Plus, the market is absolutely jammed on the weekends with tourists and locals alike.When the clock hits nine, I quickly Google ‘Camden Town Hall’ then scrawl down the general switchboard number. After telling the monotone receptionist I’m interested in a community stall, she transfers me to the street trading team. The phone rings and rings, clicking through to voicemail. I punch in the number again, but the same thing happens. Where the hell are these people?Lizzie shoots me a curious look. “Why are you trying to talk to the street trading team?” “I wanted to rent a community stalls this weekend,”
