is. ‘I’m praying!’ I replied.
I returned to Liz’s house and collapsed completely. In my post-traumatic state I found that I could not countenance the idea of taking off my overcoat. I took myself to bed, refusing any offer of assistance from Liz. There I lay, on top of the bed, with the main light on. My eyes would not close and my brain would not shut off, constantly replaying the sight I had witnessed several hours before – someone I loved who’d been part of our family. Liz and Anita suggested that I should see a doctor.
For three days I did not sleep. I would drop off but instantly wake again in a panic. And I could not remove my overcoat for a week: it seemed to be my final line of defence against this crazy world I was in. Liz took over. She drove