As it turned out, Sacha ended up calling the number that was listed alongside the ad. What did she have to lose? She was still at the Word on the Street, and to young woman there who'd decided almost from the start that she didn't like Sacha walked past behind her, and gazed contemptuously at the computer. "Working hard there?" she said sarcastically. Sacha glared at her until the woman broke her gaze. One-nil, thought Sacha without giving anything away in her face. Got you, bitch.

"Hello?" somebody said in her ear.

"Oh, hi" said Sacha warmly. She was taken a little by surprise: the person had picked up the 'phone after only one ring. A bit keen, she thought. She smiled to get into something approximating the right frame of mind. "I'm calling about the room."

"Oh, cool, well it's still available. Uh . . ."

"I understand" said Sacha, unwilling to linger over the issue if it wasn't necessary, "that it's not available for some time yet."

"That's right. When are you looking for a place?" asked the young man at the other end of the call, sounding slightly suspicious.

"Well, I'm not planning on moving for a little while yet, but I was wondering if the time the room was available was in any way negotiable? Say by a couple of weeks?"

"Earlier, you mean?"

"Yes. That's right." Sacha was speaking loudly and clearly, in part because the mobile reception in the Word office was appalling, but also because she calculated that it was to her advantage to advertise her status of "looking for a room" as broadly as possible - and there were some people who wrote for the magazine who she didn't mind too much. Who knew? One of them might have a room available, or might know somebody who did.

"Well" said the man hesitantly, "it kind of depends on when our housemate moves out. I mean, she wasn't planning on moving out earlier than the date we advertised, but . . ." he trailed off, evidently hoping that Sacha would pick up the slack.

"Well listen -" she baulked slightly, hoping that didn't sound too assertive - "how about I come and have a look at the place anyway, and we can work it out from there? I mean, there's nothing to lose."

"Sure!" said the man keenly. "Sure, that makes sense." He sounds almost as desperate as I am, thought Sacha. This might work out okay.

"So . . ." she said. "When should I come over?"

"Well . . . When suits you? I mean, we're pretty easy. I'll have to let my housemates know, but other than that . . ."

Well either you're easy or you're not, thought Sacha. She could see that this person might get annoying to live with over time. As chirpily as was possible for her she said: "How about Thursday? Say, five o'clock?"

"Uhh . . . Could we make it six instead?"

"Sure, six should be fine."

"Okay, great! Well I guess I'll see you on Thursday then!"

"Um, wait!" exclaimed Sacha, moments before the young man put the 'phone down.

"Yes?"

"You have to give me the address" said Sacha. She was growing less certain about this by the second.