22 December 2020

The boiler stopped pumping heat, and you stopped speaking today. The family rushed heaters over, and I kept your room warm. God, but you hate to be cold. The times I’ve woken sweating in your house because you’ve had the heat blasting even at night time. Not so very long ago, five years or less, you politely declined my invitation to come and watch your local fireworks. I was surprised. We always went to the fireworks on the common when I was a child. “Don’t you like fireworks?” I asked. “I don’t mind them,” you said. “But I hate standing about in the freezing cold.”

Your boiler servicing company wouldn’t send anyone because you were covid positive. Your builder, Mike, dropped everything to help. He discovered the oil had run out and arranged an urgent delivery. He came into the kitchen with a mask, and we spoke for a long time about you and all you meant to him. He told me I was doing a wonderful job. I was touched by his kindness and his bravery. We still don’t know how dangerous this virus is.