I looked down at the bandage on my leg. Outside the window, the snow was falling even more heavily. Four flights of stairs, and outside, the pavements were slick with ice. With a sinking heart, I realised I was trapped.

Fifteen

Fifteen

The snow didn’t stop falling for days. From Land’s End to John o’ Groats, from London to Glasgow and everywhere between, Britain shivered beneath a white shroud. I pulled a chair over to the window and watched it eddying past my window, Christmassy scenes that, under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed. The heating was cranked up, I had plenty of food and drink in the house, lots to entertain me. But I didn’t feel cosy or safe: I felt stuck, anxious, a lame polar bear at the zoo.

One of the first people I called the morning after it happened, after an uncomfortable night flat on my back, the pain in my knee keeping me awake, was Victor.

‘I’m not going to be able to start Monday.’ I told him what had happened, leaving out the part about believing I’d been pushed. I didn’t want him to think I was paranoid.

‘Ah, bollocks,’ he said. ‘Talk about the shitty end of the stick.’

We agreed that I would carry on doing freelance work from home and, to my great relief, he said I could start my new job as soon as I was able to make it in.

‘As soon as the ice and snow are gone, and I can get around on these crutches, I’ll be there.’

‘Take your time, Andrew,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’ll come round and see you, bring you some grapes.’

‘That would be great.’

‘They got you on painkillers?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. Industrial-strength codeine.’ The tablets were huge, like ones you’d give to a horse. I was supposed to take one every four hours during waking hours, but had been cheating a little and was often unable to wait the full interval, taking them every two to three hours. I wasn’t worried: I’d be able to get more from the hospital when I ran out.

‘Love that stuff,’ Victor said. ‘And what about your missus? She looking after you?’

‘Yeah, she’s coming round straight after work. Listen, Victor, I’m really sorry about all of this.’

‘Don’t worry, mate. There’s no great rush. Look at it this way: it’s a bit more time without me being your boss, after which I won’t be nice to you any more.’

He spluttered with laughter and I put the phone down, feeling a little better until a stab of pain pulsed inside my cast.

I took a codeine tablet.

‘How are you feeling?’ Charlie asked when she turned up in the early evening, her hair dotted with melting snow, carrying a small suitcase and a couple of carrier bags.

‘Frustrated,’ I said.