It was a weekday afternoon. Normally, I’d be at work, watching the hands tick round until five,
waiting for pizza and vodka time and then Friday night and the three long sleeps until Monday.
With the exception of the shot I’d had in the pub, I hadn’t drunk any vodka for some weeks now.
I’d always thought that it helped me sleep, but in fact I’d been sleeping more deeply than ever before,
untroubled by disturbing dreams. An electronic noise startled me and I almost spilled my tea.
Someone had sent me a text message. I ran into the hall for my phone.
The little envelope flashed: U about early evening? Can I come over? Got a surprise 4 u! Rx
A surprise! I replied immediately. Yes. Eleanor O. No one had ever asked to come and visit me before.
The social worker made an appointment, and the meter reader just turned up.
I was conscious that Raymond’s previous visits had not been very pleasant for him—or me—and decided to try to make amends.
I put on my jerkin and headed out to the corner shop.
Mr. Dewan looked up from reading a newspaper at the sound of the electronic alert.
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