My wife very rarely calls me at work. If she does, there's a 90% chance it's about my mum who has had some sort of crisis (usually emotional) and has called my home number. This time, however, it was to say she wouldn't be waiting for me when I returned home, because she was taking her dad up to our local A and E (accident and emergency) department to fix the large laceration he had sustained to the back of his head in a fall some hours earlier. There was quite a large pool of blood on the hall floor, so it could be quite serious, though blood quantities are classically over-estimated on initial appearances.
Funny thing: the people from the care company, who visit him on a daily babis, failed to notice a thing...
I shall call her on her mobile shortly to check the situation. Meanwhile I have sustained myself with a couple of slices of buttered toast slavered with peanut butter, washed down with a deep draught of tomato juice (with added tabasco and soy sauce). Mmm!
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