Nineteen Years Later
The Man at the Door
Twenty-seven hours before she decided to die, Nora Seed sat on her dilapidated sofa
scrolling through other people’s happy lives, waiting for something to happen.
And then, out of nowhere, something actually did. Someone, for whatever peculiar reason, rang her doorbell.
She wondered for a moment if she shouldn’t get the door at all.
She was, after all, already in her night clothes even though it was only nine p.m.
She felt self-conscious about her over-sized ECO WORRIER T-shirt and her tartan pyjama bottoms.
She put on her slippers, to be slightly more civilised, and discovered that the person at the door was a man, and one she recognised.
He was tall and gangly and boyish, with a kind face, but his eyes were sharp and bright, like they could see through things.
It was good to see him, if a little surprising, especially as he was wearing sports gear
and he looked hot and sweaty despite the cold, rainy weather.
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