She still had almost five pounds – there were three pound notes in the pocket of her jeans, which she’d been wearing because she’d been too drunk to get undressed, and there was well over a pound in loose change in her parka which had been crumpled under her shoulder as she slept. But that was it. They said she could leave her bags at the hostel while she looked for work, but after several hours of going in and out of shops and knocking on hotel doors, she still hadn’t found a job. None of the hotels had anything at the moment, though a couple of them did say she could try again next week. It was late afternoon by the time she went back to collect her bags, and although her hangover had gone, her feet ached and she was getting a blister on her heel. She was hoping the hostel manager would still be in her office, because she was dying for a cup of tea, and she was pretty sure the manager would let her have one. But it was the dorm supervisor who opened the door, and she left her standing on the doorstep while she fetched the bags.
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