The ringing of the doorbell had punctured her dream; she blinked, trying to clear the moisture from her eyes.

The bell rang again. Stupid bitch, why didn’t she answer it? Slowly, painfully, she struggled up and out of her chair, clinging to her walking frame. She wheezed heavily, drawing purified air through a hose connected to a canister at her waist; liquid within bubbled noisily. Mustering her strength, she hobbled to the door and out onto the landing.

The bell rang again.

“Hey” she croaked. “Hey, you down there! Can’t you hear that?” Futile, as she knew. She shuffled slowly towards the stairs and began to descend one step at a time, her arthritic joints clicking painfully. Reaching the bottom, she opened the door with shaking hands.

A smartly dressed man stood on the threshold. He smiled.

“Is your mother in?” He asked, inevitably.

If her mouth hadn’t been so dry, she would have spat. Instead, she moved aside as a young girl appeared in the hallway behind her.

“Yes?” she said, approaching the door.