Dublin People [antikvár]

FLAT IN RINGSEND Jo knew what she should do. She should get the evening papers at lunch-time, read all the advertisements for flats, and as soon as she saw one that looked suitable, she should rush round at once and sit on the doorstep. Never mind if the advertisement said 'After six o'clock'. She knew that if she went at six o'clock, and the flat was a good one, she'd probably find a queue of people all down the street. Finding a good flat in Dublin, at a rent you could afford, was like finding gold in the gold rush. The other way was by personal contact. If you knew someone who knew someone who was leaving a flat . . . That was often a good way. But for somebody who had only just arrived in Dublin, there was no chance of any personal contact. No, it was a matter of staying in a hostel and searching. Jo had been to Dublin several times when she was a child. She had been on school excursions, and to visit Dad that time he had been in hospital and everyone had been crying in case he wouldn't get better. Most of her friends, though, had been up to Dublin much more often. They talked in a familiar way about places they had gone to, and they assumed that Jo knew what they were talking about. 'You must know the Dandelion Market. Let me see, you