My aunt arrived later that evening. She looked around the apartment as though she owned it and sniffed the air suspiciously. I told her that my mother was sleeping and there was no point in going into her room. I now regretted having phoned her in the heat of panic. I told her what the doctor had said about the nursing home, but she did not offer to pay for my mother to stay there. She asked me if we had any money. A little, I said. Enough for us to get by for a week or two, but not enough for a nurse or for medicine.

I can’t pay for a nurse, she said. I did not reply. I was trying to find the energy to say nothing more to her. We sat at the table in the living room. I did not offer her anything. I cannot be here all day, I said, I have to work. I stood up and walked down the corridor to my mother’s bedroom. When I looked in she was lying on her back with her eyes open. She did not see me. I went again and sat at the table with my aunt and said that she was still sleeping. She cannot be left alone during the day while I am working, I said. But how long will this go on for, she asked. I told her that I did not know.

That night my uncle telephoned me to say that they had found a woman called Leonora who would come on weekdays when I had to work. She was not a nurse, but she would be able to do housework and keep an eye on my mother and make sure that everything was kept clean. When he had finished speaking, I found that I was staring at the wall and could not say anything. Are you still there, he bellowed into the phone. I was startled by the loudness of his voice. I said that I was still here and that was fine, Leonora could come in the morning. I would have a key cut for her. I almost asked him how many ships he would have to sell to pay for her, but I did not. I thanked him and hung up.

The doctor came a few more times and said that she was not improving. But it was the clergyman Mr. Walters’s bearing as he came and went which let me know that things were bad. He had spoken to the doctor, and to my aunt and uncles. He came with a prayer book and sat on a chair beside the bed, but I do not think that he opened the prayer book. It is possible that the mournful look on his face offered her some comfort. But I had the idea as I sat with her that there was no possibility of comfort. Her life was over before it began: she had never imagined that things would end like this, that she would be almost destitute in a strange country.