‘Stop, I could fall.’

He laughs.

I tumble, like a ripped fairy cap in the wind.

A fan is whirring, angled at my face. The light from the window is grey-white. A woman wearing white, with blue shining eyes, is smiling, the light in them glinting at me like the gilded Madonna in my bedroom. My face won’t smile back. My body feels like every bone has been smashed and reassembled upside-down and inside-out. She reaches out to touch my arm and I try to move away.

‘Ok, dear, it’s ok. You’re ok. Take it easy,’ the woman says, smoothing my damp hair off my burning face. ‘You’re ok, healing nicely, just some internal bruising, a few broken ribs and an arm.’

How is that possible? She cradles the back of my head and holds a glass of water to my lips. ‘Little sips. You’ll be back to normal in no time.’ Again, that over-bright smile. I don’t even bother trying.

The door closes gently and I wriggle my toes and the fingers on my right hand, my left is immobilised in a swing, then I move my head side to side, slowly at first, then faster, rhythmically, until my whole body is involved. I wonder how long before the doctor from the house, or that other man, the doctor Sammy knew, will come looking for me. The door reopens and a hand rests lightly on my good arm, ‘Ok now, shhhh …’

I roll onto my side, then onto my back again. The pain in my ribs is sharp and stabbing, and I turn my head towards the wall and stay there, staring at the white paint, which has streaks of black, like thumb-tracks of squashed flies. Victor used to love to make these smears on our kitchen wall, and I can see Mama, her tongue poking through her teeth, scrubbing; all the while tutting and scrubbing.

‘Would you like some ice cream?’ the voice says. ‘Vanilla, strawberry, or chocolate?’

Maria and I had strawberry ice cream one time, for her twelfth birthday. It had slivers of dark pink running through it, and as I tried to swallow all I could think of was veins. I shake my head.

‘Maybe later?’ the voice says, and I feel myself slipping into sleep.

I have no idea how long I’m in this place. A lady, whose name is Linda, comes to talk to me every day. She sits on a chair beside the bed and asks how I’m feeling, and I always just nod, like, I’m fine, thank you, now leave me alone.