They rang a week later, when I had already lost hope. A rather simple female voice called me by name and introduced itself as her neighbour. “So. I’m ringing from a phone box,” the voice was resentful. I had no time for either surprise or fright. “She gave me the number. No-one picked up, and I went round myself. The door was open, the ambulance had left it like that, left without locking it. And she couldn’t get up, so she was lying like that with the open door…” “But where was she lying?” “On the bed, as they left her. Gave injections and left. They don’t care. But then she lost consciousness. I dropped in by chance, saw the door was open, a scrap of paper with a number lying on the table. So I took it and said: shall I ring? No, she says, then she says: ring. She came herself, she says.
