The LTLP is at work. I secretly take the day off and let myself into her shared flat.
The apartment is pleasant, but basic. There is a cooker and a fridge, but few other appliances – certainly nothing that would elevate ‘student lodgings’ to ‘a home’. One of her flatmates has lent me her room for the purposes of gift-concealment; I sneak into here and drag out a small second-hand freezer which I have bought with all the money I have in the world. Panting, I lug it through the doorway and plug it in beside her bed.
I take the bashed-up old car down to Sainsbury’s on Green Lanes. The blizzard drives horizontally against the windscreen; when I reach the car-park the snow is so thick that the parking spaces are completely obscured and I just abandon the car where I can.
I walk in to the supermarket, get out my near-limit credit card and buy every tub of Haagen-Dazs in the shop.