The first time she heard them knocking she was whispering to her neignbour down the ‘phone that this time she was really going to say something this time about it all. Maisie had begun to say something about courage and guts and then this knocking had started, thumping it sounded like but muffled too and Terry had apologised to her new friend and put the phone down and then the thumping got louder as if someone was impatient somewhere, and then it stopped and there she was in her kitchen looking at her rich cream wall repeating those words from some cartoon, well I be damned. I be damned. And somehow it all seemed to depend she knew on this new state of mind. She knew she was new. Garish Yellow curry stains could sit there all week. Toast crumbs could stay submerged, drowning in old coffee. Shoes could lay in wait behind doors.She no longer had to care.
Rats said her son later and left the room. Her husband looked at her sceptically and went upstairs to write his reports. Only her daughter showed any interest and offered to turn the event into a song for the Xmas concert.