You are in the shower after a long day at work. The phone rings. Let it ring, you think. Let that damn thing ring. Five trings and the phone stops. You start to wonder who it might have been. You look at the clock. It’s half past nine in the evening. Who would have wanted to speak to you at this late? Could it have been the boss? No, he’d have used the mobile. Your best friend perhaps? No, she’s out of town. Was it your mother? Possibly, yes. May be she wanted to speak to you urgently. Why? What could have happened? Is she ill? Did she fall down the stairs? Did she break an arm? Did she feel a shooting pain down the left side of her body and reach for the phone to call her daughter who was too busy relaxing to answer her desperate call for help? Thoughts are racing through your head when the phone goes off again. You dart out of the bathroom and lunge for the receiver. It’s a telemarketer. Would you like a new credit card?, he asks. At least mum’s alright, you think. Sure, you answer, but let me get myself a towel first.