The newly anointed of The New Yorker - but why?

Can someone tell me why The New Yorker has such a jones for Tessa Hedley? Seems there's a story by her in the magazine once a month - she's their newly anointed. There's no question that her writing is good, clean, professional, and that she actually writes stories and not novels that to be artfully sliced into stories for instant publication. There's also a good balance in her work, for American readers, between the familiar (stories set in England, written in English) and the exotic or unfamiliar: she writes generally about working-class life in contemporary Britain, something we don't see much of elsewhere in fiction these days, and not much generally anywhere from a woman's POV - though Pat Barker has done so in a historical context and there's a very interesting Scottish filmmaker exploring similar material (Red Road). All that said, I find Hedley to be kind of a drink of water, her story in current New Yorker, Clever Girl, a good example of her strengths and weaknesses: very carefully set up characters and situation, girl with mom and stepfather moves into new subdivision in Bristol suburb, which Hedley nicely conveys, the smell of cement in the hallway, the treestumps in the half-cleared backyard, the conversations heard through the cheap walls and doors. It's a step up in life, but life is hard. Yet after the set-up, what? Does anything actually happen in this story? Do we actually know anything more about the narrator or her friend, Madeleine, at the end than we did at the beginning? The story is an homage, in a way, to Munro - two girls on the verge of trouble - but the comparison doesn't do Hedley any favors. Not that anyone measures up well against Alice the Great.