Joy
Slumped on a bench in the little park near to her tiny studio flat, 22-year-old Annabelle was struggling not to cry.
People were always saying to her: “You are young, healthy, you’ve got the world at your feet.” She was young and healthy, though a stone overweight, but she couldn’t see the world at her feet. What did that even mean?
Working in a sandwich bar in Clapham Common was hardly ritzy. Even if some of the customers behaved as if they were celebrities. After work she went home to her cramped flat and watched TV until it was time to go to bed. She had no real friends in London. She chatted to customers, she passed the time of day with the other tenants, but she couldn’t claim they were friends. She was lonely.
She missed her two sisters back home in Bristol, even though when she’d been at home they
