Chapter 4 Explanation, Part The First

Chapter 1? All true. Almost exactly word for word. The girl-who-isn't-really-called-Imogen-but-who-we-will-pretend-is-for-the-purposes-of-this-explanation said those things. I thought the things I said I thought. Chapter 2 is where we fall down. Some of it is true. Truth is stranger than fiction, but fiction is more believable.

I met Imogen at Young Enterprise. For those of you who are lucky enough never to have had to attend this shockingly awful organisation, I really would advise you never to attempt it. I joined late, stupidly thinking that the feedback after the first week would be representative of what it was like most of the time, and as the feedback was, to paraphrase slightly, "Fit Girls. No Work. Cake.", it seemed like a good idea at the time. To be fair, "Fit Girls" and "Cake" were present, but then so was "Work", and certainly not in quantities which could be described as "No". The basic premise of Young Enterprise, if I heard right – and to be honest, I don't think I was really listening – is to set up your own business with some other students from the surrounding area under the capable supervision of some mildly unwilling parents, and try to make some money. Problem is, most people who join seem to think money can be made without making any effort. I can assure you, our group was living proof of the fact that effort can be made, but you still won't make any money.

I think we tried to be too clever. By the time we cottoned on to the fact that if you stick googly eyes to anything (pencils, pieces of string, Christmas cards, tea trays, younger sibling's pets) It Will Sell, it was a bit late. Meanwhile, we amassed a large stack of signed photographs of celebrities – and some vaguely familiar TV personalities – to auction for charity. Well, that never happened. In fact, they're just in the next room, and I can see them right now. Or, I would be able to if I had X-ray glasses on. Suffice it to say, I don't. Anyway, sending letters off to addresses from questionable sources didn't take up an awful lot of time during our two-hour long meetings, so we mostly sat around and chatted, ate assorted foodstuffs, weighed up the opposite sex and had our little teenage intrigues, which are clearly of no interest to anyone but ourselves.

The End.

Nice try, I know. I was hoping your insatiable curiosity would suddenly be sated by a simple statement of finishing, but no. Clearly you are made of more stubborn and tenuous stuff. Onwards to the bitter end!