# Endlessly ending stories, room 35, Before, Astra
Text version of https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/r/astra-before (the interactive reader). Instruction: Before (https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/i/before). Index of every room: https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/llms.txt
Part 4 of 11. https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-2.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-3.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-4.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-5.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-6.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-7.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-8.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-9.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-10.txt https://endlessly-ending-stories.pages.dev/t/astra-before-11.txt
This part starts at lane 2, hop 177.

### hop 177 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 27, 266 words)
On Thursday Elsie telephoned the number on the card. She had put it beside the telephone, underneath the small dish of foreign coins, and for a moment she thought Martin had thrown it away.

The woman asked for the address and then for a reference number.

“Is that the one at the top?”

“It should begin with a B.”

Elsie carried the card to the window. The number had been written in blue ink over a printed line.

“They'll ring when they're half an hour away,” the woman said.

When Martin came back from the shops, Elsie was taking the sheets off. He left the bags downstairs and helped her with the corners. The mattress was covered in something that made a noise when they lifted it.

“Do they take this as well?” he asked.

“I told her everything.”

They folded the blankets on the landing. One had a cigarette burn near the edge, though nobody in the house had smoked for years. Elsie put that one underneath.

Martin found the control between the mattress and the rail. He wound its cable round it, then unwound it because it was still attached.

“Best leave it,” she said.

She washed the sheets separately. There was space in the machine for other things, but she had already shut the door. While it ran, she wiped the bedside table and carried down the glass, the saucer and the unopened tin of barley sugars.

Before going to bed, Martin moved the hall chair into the kitchen.

“So they can get through,” he said.

Elsie put his jacket over its back.

### hop 178 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 28, 262 words)
The nurse had left her cardigan on the banister. Elsie noticed it after the car had gone and took it into the kitchen, where Martin was standing with the kettle in his hand.

“She'll want this.”

“There might be a number.”

“In a cardigan?”

He put the kettle down without filling it.

The cardigan had two pockets. Elsie felt them from the outside, then folded it over the back of a chair. There was a tissue in one pocket, or something that felt like a tissue. She didn't look.

On Tuesday the nurse came back for it. She stayed in the hall, although Elsie offered tea, and asked whether anyone had been in touch about the bed.

“I wasn't sure who did that,” Elsie said.

The nurse took a card from her bag. She rested it against the wall to write on it, then moved to the little table because the wallpaper was textured.

“There's no hurry. When you're ready.”

After she left, Elsie found a faint blue mark on the wallpaper. She rubbed it with her thumb. Martin said he couldn't see it unless she pointed.

They had their lunch in the kitchen. There were three portions of fish in the packet, and Martin cooked them all.

“It won't keep once it's open.”

Elsie divided the extra piece between their plates. Afterwards she went upstairs and opened the bedroom window. Someone nearby was cutting a hedge. A few leaves had blown onto the sill, though the hedge itself was out of sight.

She left the door open when she came down.

### hop 179 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 29, 263 words)
Martin had moved the dining chairs into the passage when the bed arrived. Now there was room to put them back, but neither of them had done it. To reach the cupboard under the stairs, Elsie had to turn the nearest chair sideways.

She was looking for the bag the pharmacy had given them.

“Not that one,” Martin said. “That's the batteries.”

“I can see what it is.”

The nurse waited by the dining-room door. She had taken off her cardigan earlier, when they were all in the room and the window wouldn't open. Now she wore her coat over her uniform, with the sleeves of the uniform showing at her wrists.

Elsie found the bag behind the dustpan. There were more boxes than she remembered. She set them on the table, keeping the labels upwards, and the nurse checked each one against a sheet of paper.

“Do you need the spoon?” Elsie asked.

“No, you can keep that.”

It was an ordinary teaspoon. Elsie put it beside the sink.

Martin asked whether he should strip the bed. The nurse said there was no need to do anything just then. He nodded and went into the kitchen.

At the door, Elsie thanked her. She had meant to say something else as well, something about the last night, but the nurse was fastening her bag and Elsie couldn't find a place to begin.

They watched her reverse between the gateposts. One of the front wheels crossed the strip of grass, leaving a dark groove that Martin went out to press flat with his shoe.

### hop 180 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 30, 255 words)
The men had asked which door would be easiest, and Martin had taken them round to the side. Elsie stayed in the kitchen while they brought the trolley through. She heard one of them apologise when it caught against the skirting board.

Her mother's slippers were still under the bed. When the men had gone, she knelt and took them out, holding both in one hand by the backs. There was a pale mark on the carpet where the water jug had stood.

“Those can go upstairs,” Martin said.

Elsie put the slippers on the bottom step.

The nurse was writing at the dining table. She had asked for the time twice, though there was a clock on the mantelpiece. The battery had stopped some days before and nobody had changed it.

“There's a number here if you think of anything later.”

She turned the paper towards Elsie, who looked at the number and then at the nurse's hand resting beside it. There was a small split in the skin near her thumbnail.

“Will they ring us?” Martin asked.

“Yes. Usually this afternoon.”

He stood beside the empty bed and folded the loose end of the blanket back over itself. The men had left the pillow in the middle, without its case. Elsie had not seen them take the case off.

The nurse closed her folder, then opened it again.

“I ought to check the medicines before I leave. Have you got them all together?”

“We put them away,” Elsie said. “When people started coming.”

### hop 181 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 31, 265 words)
Martin came back from the front room carrying three cups. He had put the teaspoons in one of them, and they rattled as he lowered it into the sink.

“Did she have any of hers?” Elsie asked.

“Who's that?”

“The nurse.”

“Half, I think.”

Elsie ran the tap until the water was hot. Outside, a delivery van stopped opposite and the driver got out with a parcel tucked under his arm. She watched him try the gate, then reach over it for the latch.

Her mother had always known which neighbours would be in. Even after the bed came downstairs, she would ask Elsie to move the curtain so she could see across the road.

“There's no need to do those now,” Martin said.

“They'll only want doing later.”

He took the tea towel off the oven handle. For a while they stood together at the sink, passing the cups between them. Elsie found a brown line inside the one with the blue flowers and rubbed it with her thumb.

The nurse appeared in the doorway.

“They should be here shortly. Would you like a little more time?”

Martin looked at Elsie.

“I've been in,” she said.

The nurse nodded and went back along the passage. Martin dried his hands, though he had only been holding the towel.

When the bell rang, Elsie stayed where she was. She could hear Martin struggling with the chain. They seldom used the front door, and the mat had bunched beneath it.

There were quiet voices in the hall. Elsie turned off the tap so that she could hear.

### hop 182 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 32, 263 words)
Elsie had filled the kettle twice, forgetting the first time that she had already done it. Some water spilled onto the worktop. She wiped it with the dishcloth and then folded the cloth over the tap, as her mother did, with the corners meeting.

In the front room, the nurse was speaking to Martin. Elsie could hear the sound of her voice but not the words. On the kitchen table lay the list they had made on Tuesday: bread, batteries, the little tins of peaches. Her mother had stopped wanting the peaches by Thursday.

She put three teabags into cups. There were biscuits somewhere, though she couldn't remember which cupboard. When she found them, the packet was fastened with a wooden peg.

Martin came to the doorway.

“Shall I take those through?”

“It's got to stand a minute.”

He waited beside the fridge. His coat was still on, and one side of the collar had turned under.

“Did you get hold of Peter?” she asked.

“He's on his way.”

“It's a long drive.”

“I told him not to rush.”

She poured in the milk and watched it rise through the tea. Martin carried two cups away and came back for the third. She left the biscuits on a plate beside the kettle.

For several minutes she stood looking at the shopping list. Then she took a pencil from the drawer and crossed out batteries. They were for the bedside radio, which had been playing when she arrived that morning. She had switched it off before she went upstairs to find her mother's cardigan.

### hop 183 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 33, 265 words)
The cardigan was in the bottom drawer, underneath two summer blouses. Elsie had looked first on the hook behind the bedroom door. Her mother always left it there, except when someone tidied it away.

She lifted it out and closed the drawer with her knee. There was a tissue in one pocket and a receipt in the other. She left both where they were.

Downstairs, Martin stood in the hall holding his phone. He moved aside to let her pass, although there was room enough for them both.

“Peter's not answering,” he said.

“He might be driving.”

“I'll try the house.”

The nurse had drawn the curtains halfway across the front window. Outside, a man was pushing a bicycle along the pavement, a shopping bag swinging from each handlebar. Elsie watched him stop to adjust one of the bags.

“Would you like me to help with that?” the nurse asked.

Elsie looked down at the cardigan.

“She gets cold in her arms.”

The nurse nodded. Together they laid it over her mother, with the sleeves tucked along her sides. A button pressed against the back of Elsie's hand. She moved it so that it lay flat.

Martin came in and put his phone on the mantelpiece, beside the carriage clock.

“Do you want to sit down, Els?”

“In a minute.”

There were only two proper chairs now that the bed was there. The nurse had taken the low stool by the window.

“I'll make some tea,” Elsie said.

She gathered a cup and saucer from beside the bed and carried them carefully into the kitchen.

### hop 184 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 34, 258 words)
Elsie had brought a loaf, though Martin had told her there was bread in the freezer. She put it on the kitchen table without taking it out of its paper bag.

The back door was unlocked. That was how she had come in, past the pots her mother had asked Martin to move under the eaves. One still had its saucer beneath it, full of brown water.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Since seven.”

“You should have rung.”

“I did ring.”

She remembered the missed call, the phone lighting up beside the bathroom sink. She had been rinsing toothpaste from her mouth and afterwards had gone to find her shoes.

From the front room came the small sound of a spoon touching china. Martin looked towards it but stayed by the table.

“The nurse came back,” he said.

Elsie took off her coat. There was nowhere to hang it in the kitchen, so she folded it over a chair, then pulled it clear of a damp patch on the seat.

Her mother lay with her head turned slightly towards the window. Someone had combed her hair away from her forehead. Elsie went to the bed and rested two fingers on the sheet beside her hand.

“It's me,” she said.

The nurse set the cup down.

“She's been comfortable.”

Elsie nodded. Her mother's nightdress had short sleeves, and above the sheet her arms looked bare.

“There's a cardigan upstairs,” Elsie said. “The blue one.”

Martin offered to fetch it, but she was already at the door.

### hop 185 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 35, 258 words)
At the bakery Elsie waited behind a man buying six iced buns. He asked for them in two boxes, then changed his mind. She watched the assistant lift each bun by its paper case.

When it was her turn, she could not remember which loaf her mother liked. There had been one with seeds that got under her plate, and another she said was hardly bread at all.

“The small white,” Elsie said.

Outside, she put the change in her coat pocket without counting it. Martin had said not to bring anything. He had been doing the shopping since Thursday and knew what was in the cupboards.

She drove past the turning for her mother's road and had to go round by the school. The crossing lights were flashing, although nobody was waiting. On the passenger seat the loaf slid against her handbag.

There was a space outside the house, but she parked farther down, where she would not have to reverse between two cars. The district nurse's little grey car was beside the gate. Elsie checked that she had her keys, then checked the ignition, though the keys were already in her hand.

Her mother had left a message on Monday about the side gate. The bolt had dropped and needed lifting as you pulled. Elsie had meant to come over with some oil.

She lifted it now. It opened without a sound.

Along the narrow path, rain had washed soil from the pots onto the paving. She stepped over it, holding the loaf against her coat.

### hop 186 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 36, 261 words)
Martin rang while Elsie was emptying the dishwasher. She held a warm mug against her stomach and listened to him explain that the nurse would be there until twelve.

“There's no need to rush,” he said.

She looked at the clock on the cooker. It was seven minutes slow, though she had stopped allowing for that and now used it as if it were right.

“Has she had breakfast?”

“A little.”

Elsie put the mug on the draining board. There were other things she could have asked, but Martin was speaking to someone away from the phone.

“I'll come now,” she said when he returned.

“Don't bring anything. We've got everything.”

Afterwards she finished the lower rack. A teaspoon had fallen through the basket and lay in a shallow pool beneath it. She dried it with the corner of a tea towel, then left the upper rack pulled out.

Upstairs, she changed her jumper. The first one caught on her earring, and for a moment she stood with her face covered, trying not to pull. Her mother had bought her the earrings at a craft fair. One fastening had always been stiff.

She found her handbag under yesterday's newspaper. Before leaving, she checked the back door and turned down the heating, although she expected to be home before evening.

The car windows had misted inside. She wiped a circle with her sleeve and waited for the fan. At the end of the high street she saw the bakery was open. Bread, at least, was something she could put on the table.

### hop 187 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 37, 258 words)
The milk had gone over in the night. Elsie noticed it before she poured, a thickening at the lip of the bottle, and made her tea black. She stood by the sink until it was cool enough to drink.

Outside, a man in a yellow jacket was lifting the cover from the drain. His van blocked half her drive. On another morning she might have gone out to ask how long he would be, but there was room to get past if she took care.

She had slept with the telephone beside the bed. At half past four she had woken and touched the screen, not because it had made a sound but to make sure it was still working. There had been a message from her daughter about Sunday lunch, sent before midnight. She had typed Yes, that would be lovely, then deleted it without sending.

Martin had said he would ring in the morning. He hadn't said when.

Elsie took a slice of bread from the freezer and put it in the toaster. While she waited, she opened the cupboard where she kept the jam. Behind the marmalade was a jar her mother had returned, washed clean, with a folded piece of kitchen paper under the lid. Elsie couldn't remember what she had given her in it.

The toast came up pale. She pressed the lever down again, then changed her mind and lifted it out.

She ate half a slice over a plate. Afterwards she opened the dishwasher, letting the steam rise past her face.

### hop 188 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 38, 261 words)
Before going upstairs, Elsie checked the back door. The key was already turned, but she put her hand on it and tried it once more. Through the glass she could see the washing line, with the two pegs she had left out sliding together at the lowest point.

Martin had called while she was clearing supper. She had dried her hands on the tea towel before answering, although there had been no need to hurry. He was still at the hospital. Someone was looking for a chair he could sleep in.

‘You ought to come home,’ she had said.

‘In a bit.’

Neither of them had mentioned their mother’s slippers, which Elsie had brought in that afternoon and put beneath the bed. There had been nowhere else to put them. A nurse had needed to move the table, and Elsie had picked up the slippers and held them until the table was settled again.

Now she folded the tea towel over the oven rail. There was a damp patch on her cardigan where she had leaned against the sink. She pulled the wool away from her skin.

On the kitchen table lay the hospital parking ticket. She put it in her handbag in case Martin wanted to know what the charges were after six. Then she took it out again and left it beside the fruit bowl.

Upstairs, she undressed without drawing the curtains. The house opposite was dark except for its landing window. She set her alarm for seven, cancelled it, and put the telephone where she could reach it.

### hop 189 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 39, 259 words)
The saucepan was too large for the amount of soup left in it. Elsie tipped it towards her and scraped the bottom with the ladle, filling half a bowl. The rest she could not get out without a spoon. She left it on the hob.

She ate standing up at first, then sat in her usual place. Across the table, Martin’s newspaper was folded to the crossword. He had written an answer in the margin rather than in the squares, as he always did when he wasn’t certain. She turned the paper over so that she would not spill anything on it.

At the hospital their mother had asked whether it was Thursday. When Elsie said Wednesday, she had seemed to accept this, then asked again while Martin was opening the grapes. He had bought the kind with seeds. Nobody pointed it out.

Elsie carried her bowl to the sink. There were two mugs in the washing-up water, though she remembered using only one. She washed both and set them on the drainer with their handles facing the same way.

The kitchen clock had stopped at twenty past four. She would need a battery from the drawer in the hall, but there were several sizes in there and she did not feel like sorting through them tonight. Instead she looked at her wristwatch.

She had meant to take a clean nightdress tomorrow. The blue one was still in the airing cupboard, beneath the spare pillowcases. She must remember to put it in a bag before she went to bed.

### hop 190 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 40, 256 words)
Martin dropped her at the gate because there was nowhere to turn in the drive. He waited while she found her key, although the porch light was on and she had told him there was no need. When she looked back, his face was pale behind the windscreen. She raised a hand and he pulled away.

Inside, the house smelled of boiled vegetables. She had left the kitchen window open a little, and the cold had reached the hall. Her coat caught on the telephone table as she took it off. A leaflet slipped to the floor, advertising replacement windows, with a photograph of a woman who seemed pleased to be looking out of one.

Elsie put it beside the telephone. There was a number she ought to ring, but she could not remember whether it was the ward or the woman arranging the handrail. Both were written on the back of an envelope in her handbag. She decided it could wait until morning.

She went upstairs without switching on the landing light. In the bathroom she washed her hands, working the soap beneath her rings. The hospital smell seemed to remain even after she had dried them.

On her way down she noticed a small brown leaf on the stair carpet. It must have come from one of their shoes. She picked it up and carried it into the kitchen, where she dropped it into the bin.

The soup had formed a skin. She stirred it in and lit the gas, keeping the flame low.

### hop 191 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 41, 258 words)
At the lift, Martin asked whether she had remembered her scarf. Elsie touched her collar, though she knew it was in her bag. Upstairs, beside the bed, she had been too warm.

They stood back to let a porter wheel out an empty chair. One of its footrests rattled against the frame. Martin watched it go, then pressed the button again.

“He ate some of the custard,” he said.

“Yes.”

“That must be something.”

She had spooned it from the little pot while Arthur looked past her at the curtain. Afterwards he had asked what time the shop shut, although they had sold the shop eleven years ago. She had told him six, because it seemed less trouble than explaining.

In the car park Martin went ahead to open her door. There was a ticket under the wiper, but it was only the one he had bought. He folded it and put it in his shirt pocket.

“Shall I come in for a bit?”

“You’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Not early.”

“I’ve soup waiting.”

He started the engine and held his hands over the vents. She wished she had said there was enough for two. By the time they reached the main road, saying it would have made too much of it.

They drove past the closed library and the chemist with its illuminated cross. At the turning into her road, Martin slowed for a cat that had already crossed. Elsie searched her handbag for the key and found instead Arthur’s watch, wrapped in a tissue by the nurse.

### hop 192 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 42, 263 words)
The nurse brought Arthur’s watch in a folded tissue and laid it on the table beside the grapes.

“It was slipping round his wrist,” she said.

Elsie put it in her handbag. She had bought him the watch when they paid off the last of the money on the shop. In recent years he had worn it to bed, holding it to his ear sometimes when he thought it had stopped.

Martin was standing at the window, reading a notice about keeping the sill clear. He had moved the grapes twice already.

“Do you want these left here, Dad?”

Arthur’s eyes were closed. His mouth moved a little, as though he were considering the question.

“We’ll leave them,” Elsie said.

She straightened the paper bag around the fruit. There was a brown one near the top, but she could not take it out without finding somewhere to put it.

The nurse came back for the tray. Elsie lifted the water glass so she could wipe beneath it, then held it until the nurse had gone.

“Here, Mum.” Martin took it from her.

Arthur opened his eyes when she said goodbye. She bent close, waiting for him to say something, and he raised his hand towards the blanket. She tucked it around his shoulder.

In the corridor Martin helped her into her coat. One sleeve had turned inside out; she pushed at it while he held the cuff. Behind them someone laughed, and a television grew louder as a door swung open.

“Ready?” he asked.

She checked the fastening of her bag and nodded.

### hop 193 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 43, 269 words)
At the hospital entrance Martin stopped to buy grapes. Elsie waited beside the revolving door, holding her handbag against her stomach. She had brought a clean vest, though nobody had asked for one.

“Green or black?” he called.

“Your father likes the green.”

In the lift he showed her the bag, as if she might want to check. She folded down its loose edge.

Arthur had been moved to a bed nearer the window. His slippers stood beneath the chair with their toes pointing out, and for a moment Elsie thought someone must have helped him up that morning.

“Have you been walking about?” she asked.

He looked at Martin.

“Only us, Dad,” Martin said, too loudly.

Elsie put the vest in the locker. The one she had brought on Tuesday was still there, folded as she had left it. She placed the clean one underneath.

There was tea on the tray, pale and untouched. She offered to hold the cup, but Arthur turned his head towards the window.

“He never did like it from those cups,” she said.

Martin pulled the chair closer for her. Its rubber foot caught on the floor, making a short, hard noise. Arthur opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Martin said.

Elsie sat with her coat still buttoned. She told Arthur that the back gate had been fixed and that Mrs Bell had asked after him. When she mentioned the gate, he lifted his arm a little. She waited, then rested her hand on the blanket beside his.

A nurse paused at the foot of the bed.

“I’ve something of his for you,” she said.

### hop 194 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 44, 264 words)
Martin arrived while Elsie was looking for a safety pin. She had found three in the saucer where Arthur kept foreign coins, but each had gone black at the hinge.

“What’s it for?” Martin asked.

“Nothing. This lining.”

She showed him the place inside her coat where the stitching had come away. He held the coat while she put her arms into it, keeping his fingers over the tear.

On the kitchen table stood a small parcel wrapped in a shopping bag.

“Is that coming?”

“Yes. Don’t squash it.”

He picked it up carefully. It weighed so little that he looked at her.

“Just some things,” she said.

Before leaving, she went back to turn the radio off. The woman reading the weather was halfway through the coastal districts. Arthur always waited for the end, even when they were late.

Martin had parked facing downhill. Elsie lowered herself into the passenger seat and pulled at the belt until he leaned across to free it.

“They catch,” she said.

“You have to do it slowly.”

She watched the house while he started the engine. From here the repaired gate looked no different. The carpenter had used the old boards and left the new latch bright.

“Did you pay that man?” Martin asked.

“It’s in the tin.”

“I’ll do it later, then.”

Outside the hospital, he drove past the visitors’ car park and had to come round again. Elsie kept the parcel on her knees. When they finally got out, she smoothed the front of her coat, feeling beneath it for the catch of her handbag.

### hop 195 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 45, 258 words)
Elsie had put Arthur’s slippers in first, then taken them out. The girl on the telephone had said he had everything he needed. There was a cupboard beside the bed, she said, though she hadn’t known whether his glasses were in it.

In the end Elsie chose the glasses case, his little comb, and the handkerchief he had left folded on the bedroom chair. She shook the handkerchief out before folding it again. A grey thread had caught in one corner.

The shopping bag was too large. She cut away the handles and wrapped the things in what remained, turning the printed side inward. There was no string in the drawer where string ought to have been. She used two rubber bands from the ball Arthur had made, easing them off with a teaspoon so they wouldn’t snap.

At eleven she rang Martin, although he had said eleven fifteen.

“I’m just leaving,” he said.

“I wasn’t hurrying you.”

“No, I know.”

She nearly asked him whether he had spoken to the doctor. Instead she told him the road outside the chemist’s was still dug up.

Afterwards she rinsed her cup and stood it upside down on the draining board. Arthur’s cup was at the back, behind the bread bin. She left it there.

Her good coat had slipped from its hanger. When she lifted it, her thumb went through the lining near the sleeve. She laid it across the chair and opened the sewing drawer. The needles were there, but the little cardboard packet of pins was empty.

### hop 196 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 46, 260 words)
The ambulance men had moved the hall table to get the chair through. One of them had asked where it belonged afterwards, and Elsie had told him not to trouble. Now it stood crooked beneath the mirror, with a pale rectangle showing on the wallpaper.

She pushed it back, lifting each leg over the edge of the carpet. Arthur’s letters slid against the dish they kept for keys. There was one from the building society, still unopened, although he had carried it about all Tuesday.

In the kitchen the clock said twenty past nine. She had thought it must be later. She filled the kettle to the mark for two cups and poured some away.

Martin had offered to come straight round.

“There’s nothing for you to do yet,” she had said.

He had waited, and she could hear someone speaking behind him, asking about a delivery.

“Eleven fifteen, then. I’ll take you in.”

She had written the time on the back of an envelope. Underneath it she wrote glasses, because Arthur would not like having to ask someone to read things for him.

While the kettle boiled she went upstairs. His bedside drawer resisted, as it always did in damp weather. She held the lamp steady and pulled again. Inside were two old watch straps, a receipt for the lawnmower, and the glasses case beneath a packet of cough sweets.

She set the case on the bed. From the landing cupboard she fetched a shopping bag, opening it with a sharp flap that sounded too loud in the room.

### hop 197 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 47, 257 words)
At the gate, Elsie noticed that Arthur had gone out without his shoes. They were beside his chair in the sitting room, the left one lying on its side. She had meant to say something, but the younger ambulance man was asking about tablets, and by the time she had fetched the boxes from the cupboard they had put a blanket over Arthur’s feet.

“Will he need these?” she asked.

“We’ll take them with us.”

She handed over the tablets. The shoes remained where they were.

Arthur had looked at her as they lifted him into the ambulance. She raised her hand, not quite a wave. He seemed about to speak, but the man standing beside him bent to fasten something, and she could no longer see his face.

A neighbour’s upstairs window opened. Elsie watched the ambulance until it turned at the end of the road, then went indoors before anyone could call down to her.

For a moment she stood with the front door open. There was a draught against her ankles. Arthur was always telling her that the catch would hold if she pulled the door firmly, but she used the handle, easing the latch into place.

She found one of the tablet boxes on the stairs. It was empty; perhaps they had left it deliberately. She took it into the kitchen and put it beside the bread bin, where she would remember to ask.

Then she telephoned Martin. She had to look up his work number, though it had not changed in years.

### hop 198 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 48, 257 words)
The toast had gone cold before Arthur said he did not want it. Elsie was standing at the sink, rinsing the knife, and at first she thought he meant there was too much butter.

“You can scrape a bit off,” she said.

He did not answer. When she turned, he had both hands resting on the arms of his chair, as though he was waiting for someone to finish speaking.

“Arthur?”

“It’s nothing. Just give me a minute.”

She dried her hands carefully, each finger separately. Afterwards she would remember doing that, although she could not remember putting down the tea towel.

The woman on the telephone asked whether he was breathing. Elsie looked through the kitchen doorway. He was watching her with an expression she knew from restaurants, when he thought she was making an unnecessary complaint.

“Yes,” she said. “But he isn’t right.”

She moved the little table away from his chair. There was nowhere to put it except in front of the bookcase, and a spoon fell from the saucer as she lifted it. Arthur made a movement to retrieve it.

“Leave that.”

The ambulance men arrived while she was still holding the receiver. One knelt beside Arthur; the other asked her to show him where the front step was uneven. She explained that it was only the corner, that they had been meaning to have it seen to.

When they brought Arthur through the hall, she took her coat from the peg. Then she put it back and followed them down the path.

### hop 199 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 49, 256 words)
Arthur had brought the milk in, though Elsie had asked him to leave it for her. She heard the bottles touch the worktop and called from upstairs that there was no need to make a performance of it.

“I’m not making anything,” he said.

When she came down he was sitting in his usual chair by the kitchen doorway, still wearing his cardigan over his pyjamas. One of the buttons had gone into the wrong hole. She noticed it without saying anything. There would be time enough when he dressed.

“The paper’s wet,” he said.

“Was it through the door?”

“Halfway.”

She spread it on the empty end of the table. The damp had reached a photograph of a man opening a leisure centre, but the crossword was dry. Arthur generally did that after breakfast, writing his uncertain answers so lightly that she could scarcely see them when he asked her for help.

“Do you want an egg?”

“Toast will do.”

She put two slices under the grill and filled the kettle. Outside, their neighbour was trying to fold a large cardboard box into the recycling bin. Each time he let go, one flap lifted again.

“He’ll be there all morning,” she said.

Arthur turned his head towards the window, then back.

She made the tea in the small pot because the larger one dripped. While it stood, she buttered his toast to the edges, cut it across, and carried it to the little table beside him.

“There you are,” she said. “Before it gets cold.”

### hop 200 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 50, 261 words)
Elsie woke before the alarm and switched it off so it would not disturb Arthur. He was awake already, lying with his hands outside the covers, but neither of them mentioned this.

“It’s raining,” he said.

“I can hear.”

There was a loose piece of guttering above the bedroom window. When the wind came from that direction, water struck the sill with a noise quite out of proportion to the amount of rain. Their son had said he would look at it when he came over with the ladder. That had been in June, before the trouble with his car.

Arthur pushed back the covers.

“Mind your foot,” Elsie said.

He waited on the edge of the bed, then put his feet into his slippers. The left one had folded under at the heel. She watched him work it straight against the carpet.

“I’ll see what the weather’s doing.”

“You’ve just told me.”

He took his cardigan from the chair and went out. A moment later she heard the bathroom door close, not quite catching. She stayed where she was until the pipes stopped knocking.

On the landing, she found yesterday’s shirt draped over the banister. She gathered it up and felt in the breast pocket before putting it in the washing basket. There was a receipt for something neither of them needed any longer.

“Leave the milk,” she called. “I’ll fetch it when I come down.”

There was no answer. She went to the wardrobe for her skirt, holding the receipt because she had forgotten it was in her hand.

### hop 201 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 51, 259 words)
The night before, Arthur had brought the little heater in from the back room and stood it beside the kitchen table.

“Shall I put this away?”

Elsie was drying a saucepan. She went carefully round the handle with the corner of the cloth.

“Not there. I’ve just washed that floor.”

He lifted it again. There was nowhere else to put it without moving something, so he remained standing with the flex looped over his wrist.

“The cupboard under the stairs,” she said.

“It won’t fit.”

“It came out of there.”

He carried it into the hall. She heard the cupboard door scrape, then the small succession of knocks as he rearranged the things inside. When he returned, there was dust on one sleeve.

“Leave it,” she said, reaching towards him.

“I can do it.”

He brushed at the wrong sleeve first.

They had their tea without turning on the television. At half past nine Elsie checked the back door, although Arthur had already checked it, and put a clean cup beside the kettle. She took another from the shelf and set it next to the first.

Upstairs, he asked what time she had set the alarm for.

“The usual.”

“We needn’t be up early.”

“I know.”

He laid his shirt across the chair, then moved it to the landing when she said she wanted somewhere for her skirt. For a while the light from the hall remained across the bedroom floor. Elsie watched it disappear as he pulled the door towards him.

Neither asked whether the other was comfortable.

### hop 202 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 52, 259 words)
By ten o’clock Elsie had taken the curtains down in the small bedroom. Arthur found her on the second step of the ladder, holding the last hook between her finger and thumb.

“You could have asked.”

“I’m finished now.”

He put a hand on the ladder while she came down. Then he stayed beside it, looking at the pale rectangle where the wardrobe had stood.

The men were due between eleven and one. There was only the bed for them to take, and the wardrobe, which Arthur had pulled away from the wall to save them trouble. Its doors had swung open when he moved it. Elsie had shut them without looking inside.

“Do they want the screws?” he asked.

“What screws?”

“Off the mirror.”

“They’ll know what they want.”

She folded the curtains along their old creases. At the bottom, where the sun had not reached, the flowers were still blue.

Arthur went downstairs and returned with an envelope. He put the screws inside and wrote MIRROR on the front, pressing so hard that the pen came through the paper.

“You’d better leave that on the dressing table,” she said.

“That’s not going.”

“I know it isn’t.”

Outside, a van slowed, then continued past the house. They both waited until its engine could no longer be heard.

Elsie laid the folded curtains on the bed. She would have to move them again when the men came, but for the moment she left them there. Arthur picked up the ladder and carried it downstairs, taking care at the turn.

### hop 203 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 53, 261 words)
Elsie put two slices in the toaster and took one out before she pressed the lever. Arthur had been leaving his lately, and she disliked finding it cold on the side of his plate.

“Do you want marmalade?” she asked.

“No, thank you.”

The jar was already on the table. She left it there and sat down.

Beside Arthur’s cup lay the charity shop’s receipt, though they had not collected anything yet. He had folded it so that the telephone number showed.

“I’ll move the wardrobe out,” he said. “They won’t have much room otherwise.”

“Mind the skirting.”

“I will.”

“And don’t try the bed.”

He finished his tea. From upstairs she heard the window being opened, then the slow scrape of something heavy. She stood at the foot of the stairs until it stopped.

“All right?”

“Yes.”

In the kitchen she washed the cups and wiped beneath the toaster. There were crumbs in the seam of the oilcloth which would not come out with the cloth. She worked at them with her thumbnail.

Arthur came down carrying the little oval mirror. He held it against his chest, the glass turned inward.

“Where shall I put this?”

“On our bed for now.”

He went back upstairs. Elsie rinsed the cloth and spread it over the tap. The clock above the cooker said twenty past nine.

In the cupboard under the stairs, the ladder was behind a bag of shoes. She moved the bag aside. One shoe had fallen out, and she put it back before drawing the ladder into the hall.

### hop 204 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 54, 263 words)
The men were coming between ten and twelve. Elsie had written it on the calendar, although there was nothing else in that square and neither of them was likely to forget.

She woke before Arthur and lay listening to a van reversing somewhere along the road. When it stopped, she got up.

On the landing, the spare-room door stood open. Yesterday they had taken the drawers out and checked behind them. There had been a hairgrip, two buttons and a postcard from Scarborough with no stamp on it. Elsie had put the buttons in her sewing tin. The postcard was downstairs beneath the telephone directory.

She went in and lifted the net curtain away from the sill. The rings had left small rust marks on the wire. They would need the ladder to reach the hooks; standing on the bed was no good now, with the mattress propped against the wall.

Arthur appeared in the doorway, fastening his watch.

“Shall I take that down?”

“After breakfast.”

He looked at the window, then at the pale rectangle where the wardrobe had stood for thirty years before they shifted it yesterday.

“We could paint in here,” he said.

“The ceiling wants doing first.”

“Yes.”

She straightened the curtain and passed him on her way out. At the stairs she paused to pick a loose thread from her slipper.

Downstairs, Arthur filled the kettle while she took the bread from its wrapper. He set out two plates, then went to the dresser for the cups. She waited until he had moved before opening the cutlery drawer.

### hop 205 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 55, 259 words)
By half past eight they had brought everything down except the furniture. Arthur carried the last box into the kitchen and set it beside the back door.

“Not there,” Elsie said. “We’ll want to get out.”

He moved it under the table. A flap caught against a chair leg and opened. Inside were three school exercise books, a wooden ruler and a pair of gloves folded together at the wrists.

“I thought those were going,” he said.

“I haven’t looked through that one.”

Arthur pressed the flap down again.

They had their tea in the sitting room. There was a programme about gardens, but neither had seen the beginning, and after a while Elsie asked him to turn it off. In the quiet they could hear rain ticking against the window.

“The little chest would fit beside the boiler,” Arthur said.

“It would be damp.”

“Only for keeping tools in.”

“You’ve got your shelves.”

He put his cup on its saucer, carefully, without a sound.

Before bed, Elsie washed the two cups and left them upside down on the draining board. Arthur went round checking the doors. When he came back into the kitchen she was holding the postcard they had found upstairs.

“Who was it to?” he asked.

“Nobody. It’s blank.”

She turned it over once more, then carried it into the hall.

Arthur waited at the foot of the stairs while she checked the calendar. The man on the telephone had told her there was no need to empty the drawers, but she was glad they had.

### hop 206 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 56, 255 words)
At six Arthur fetched the steps from the shed. He wiped the feet on the mat before carrying them upstairs, though Elsie had already spread newspaper along the landing.

“We ought to have done this in daylight,” he said.

“There’s the lamp.”

The lamp stood on the little chest, its shade tilted towards the wall. Elsie straightened it and opened the top drawer. There were envelopes inside, most of them empty, and a packet of photographs with the chemist’s name printed in blue.

Arthur held out a carrier bag.

“Not yet,” she said.

He put it on the bed instead.

They worked without deciding who should do what. Arthur took things from the high cupboard and Elsie sorted them on the counterpane. Now and then he asked about something, but mostly he waited until she pointed to a box or to the bag.

Behind the drawer lining she found a postcard showing a seafront. The paper had curled at the corners. She laid it beside the lamp.

“We went there once,” Arthur said.

“Not that place.”

He leaned closer, then went back to the cupboard.

By seven the newspaper was covered with dust. Elsie took a cloth to the drawer handles while Arthur folded an old blanket around the framed picture from above the bed.

“Leave that for them,” she said. “They’ll have proper covers.”

He unfolded it again. Downstairs, the telephone rang twice and stopped before either of them moved.

Elsie looked at the boxes along the landing.

“We’ll take the small ones first.”

### hop 207 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 57, 255 words)
The man from the removal firm had left his pencil on the kitchen table. Elsie noticed it when she cleared the cups, but by then his van was gone.

“He’ll have another,” Arthur said.

She put it in the drawer beside the string.

They had been given Thursday, between eight and twelve. Arthur wrote the times on the back of an electricity bill and propped it against the clock. There was nothing else to arrange that afternoon, though neither of them sat down.

Elsie washed the cups and left them upside down on the draining board. Through the window she could see the square of pale grass where the water butt had stood. The new people hadn’t wanted it. They had asked about the cooker, and whether the key to the side gate was the same as the one for the back door.

“Shall I make something?” Arthur asked.

“We had lunch.”

“That was a while ago.”

She cut bread and cheese. They ate standing at the counter, each keeping to the half nearest their plate. Afterwards Arthur brushed the crumbs into his palm.

“There’s still the cupboard upstairs,” he said.

“I know.”

“And your mother’s chest.”

Elsie wrapped the cheese carefully, folding the paper along its old creases. Then she went into the front room for the newspapers they had been saving. Arthur heard her moving on the landing, opening a door, shutting it again.

He rinsed the plates and put the bread away. Outside, the shed was already dark beneath the apple tree.

### hop 208 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 58, 256 words)
The bell rang while Arthur was taking the photographs off the wall. He laid the last one face down on the chair and went to answer it.

The man wiped his shoes twice, though it hadn’t rained. He carried a clipboard under his arm.

“Best to start at the top,” he said.

Elsie showed him the bedrooms. He counted the wardrobes and asked whether the dressing table mirror came off. Arthur said it did, then bent to look behind it.

“Leave that for us,” the man said.

In the small room he paused beside the sewing machine.

“Going?”

“Yes,” Elsie said.

Arthur was looking at the empty shelves. There were four little hollows in the carpet where the bed had been.

Downstairs, they walked around the dining table. The man measured it with a tape that stayed stiff across the room until he pressed a button. Elsie offered tea. He glanced at his watch before saying he wouldn’t mind.

They drank in the kitchen while he added figures in the margin of his form. Arthur stood by the door to the garden, his cup resting on the place where the paint had worn away.

“You’ll need to keep a kettle out,” the man said. “And whatever you want for the first night.”

Elsie nodded. She had already set aside a biscuit tin with two teaspoons inside it.

The man turned the form towards them. Arthur found his glasses in his jacket and checked the address. Elsie watched him sign, holding the paper steady with two fingers.

### hop 209 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 59, 259 words)
Elsie had washed the breakfast things and put them back in the cupboard. Then she took them out again. There were only the two plates and cups, but she could not decide whether to leave them on the draining board.

“He said ten,” Arthur said.

“I know what he said.”

He folded the newspaper without having read the inside pages. On the front was a photograph of a road under water. He put it beside the pile they were saving for wrapping.

The kitchen clock was four minutes fast. Elsie had meant to correct it when she changed the battery, but it had seemed easier to remember the four minutes.

“Will he want to look in the loft?” she asked.

“There’s nothing up there now.”

“The Christmas box.”

Arthur rubbed a thumb along the edge of the table.

“I’ll bring it down afterwards.”

In the hall, Elsie found a shopping bag containing three library books. She moved it away from the other bags and put it on the stairs. They would have to go back before Friday, whether she finished the last one or not.

Arthur came out carrying a saucer. He set it on the telephone shelf and began lifting the framed photographs from their hooks. Each hook went into the saucer. Behind the picture of Elsie’s parents, the wallpaper was darker, and a small dead insect clung to the backing paper.

“Shall I get a cloth?” she asked.

“It’ll brush off.”

She watched him use his sleeve, then went to check that the side gate was unbolted.

### hop 210 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 60, 257 words)
At half past eight Arthur went out to move the car. There was room for a van beside the hedge, provided nobody from next door parked across the dropped kerb. He stood for a moment with his hand on the garage door, then came back in.

“Did it start?” Elsie asked.

“Of course it started.”

She had put the marmalade on the table, although neither of them had wanted any since Tuesday. Around the lid was a clean band where she had wiped it with the dishcloth.

Arthur sat down in his coat.

“You’ll be warm in that.”

He unbuttoned it but did not take it off. His toast lay on the plate with a square of butter softening in the middle.

The woman on the telephone had told Elsie to mark anything that was staying. She had used the yellow labels from the bureau drawer. One was now stuck to the radiator, another to the shelf Arthur had fitted above the washing machine. She was uncertain about the curtain poles. They had not been mentioned on the form.

“Mrs Bennett might want the rest of those bulbs,” she said.

“Leave them in the garage.”

“She won’t know they’re there.”

“Then tell her.”

Outside, a car door closed. Arthur turned towards the window, but it was only the district nurse arriving opposite. Elsie gathered the knives and laid them across her plate.

“Have you finished?”

He ate the last corner of toast. She waited for him to put his cup down before carrying everything to the sink.

### hop 211 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 61, 268 words)
Elsie had been awake when the milk float came, though they had cancelled the milk on Friday. She heard it stop outside and the bottles being set down at the Bennetts’. Then it moved on.

Arthur was already downstairs. He had brought the small suitcase into the hall and placed his shoes beside it, toes towards the door. From the bedroom she could hear him opening drawers in the kitchen.

“The teaspoons are where they always are,” she called.

“I’m looking for string.”

She dressed without switching on the light. The wardrobe door would not quite shut now that it was empty. Arthur had said he could adjust the hinge, but there had been other things to do.

On the landing stood a cardboard box containing the things their daughter had said she would collect. Elsie lifted the flap and checked the blue jug. She had wrapped its handle separately, with a piece of kitchen paper folded four times.

Downstairs, Arthur had tied the newspapers into a bundle.

“They can go out on Thursday,” he said.

She looked at the bundle by the back door.

“I’ll mention it to Mrs Bennett.”

He put the string away in the drawer, then took it out again and set it on the windowsill.

Elsie filled the kettle. There was enough water in it already, but she emptied it first. While it boiled, she shook two slices of bread from the packet and put them in the toaster.

“What time did they say?” Arthur asked.

“Nine. Between nine and ten.”

He looked at the kitchen clock.

“I’d better leave them some room.”

### hop 212 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 62, 265 words)
The last thing Elsie took down was the calendar. It hung beside the telephone, still turned to August, with the appointment at the eye clinic circled in Arthur’s writing. She folded it along the wire and put it in the bag for paper.

“We might need the number on the back,” he said.

She took it out again. There was no number on the back, only a picture of the hardware shop that had given it to them.

“I’ve got their number in my book.”

Arthur nodded and went to check the back door.

They had eaten soup because the bowls could be rinsed and packed more easily than plates. Afterwards Elsie wiped the shelf in the refrigerator and left the cloth spread over the tap. A small jar of mustard remained in the door. She put it beside the bread for the morning.

At half past ten their daughter rang to ask whether they were ready.

“Nearly,” Elsie said.

“Don’t sit up doing things. They’ll help with anything that’s left.”

When she had put the receiver down, Arthur was standing at the foot of the stairs with two hot-water bottles, although the evening was mild.

“I didn’t know whether to pack these.”

“We’ll take them in the case.”

Upstairs, they left their clothes over the chair. Elsie set the alarm, then moved it closer so she could reach the button without getting out of bed.

For a while Arthur lay with his hands outside the covers. A car passed, lighting the ceiling.

“You’ve set it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “There’s plenty of time.”

### hop 213 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 63, 263 words)
By six o’clock the sitting room had begun to echo. Arthur carried the brass companion set into the hall, then brought it back because neither of them could remember whether their daughter had wanted it.

“Leave it by the hearth,” Elsie said. “We can ask her.”

She was wrapping the ornaments in newspaper. The shepherdess had lost one hand years ago, but Elsie put an extra sheet round her before settling her between the two dogs. There was a brown mark on the mantelpiece where the clock had stood.

Arthur rubbed it with his thumb.

“That’ll come off.”

“Not now. Your soup’s on.”

He went into the kitchen but did not sit down. Through the window he could see the patch beside the shed where he had put in beans each spring. He had meant to take the canes apart and tie them properly. They were still leaning against the fence, crossed at the top.

“The next people might use those,” he said.

Elsie looked up from the drawer where she was sorting string and elastic bands.

“They might.”

He put the shed key on the draining board. After a moment he moved it to the windowsill, away from the water.

They had kept out two spoons and the small saucepan. Elsie checked the cupboards once more, opening each door only far enough to see the bare shelf. Behind the flour tin she found a birthday candle and a folded paper bag. She put the candle in her apron pocket. The bag she smoothed flat and added to the others beside the sink.

### hop 214 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 64, 255 words)
The van was coming at eight in the morning. Arthur had written the time on the back of an envelope and propped it against the kitchen clock, though Elsie said they were hardly likely to forget.

At half past five he took down the curtains in the small bedroom. The hooks caught in the lining, and he worked each one loose with the nail of his forefinger. Elsie waited below with her arms raised.

“Just let them come,” she said.

“There’s one still holding.”

When he handed them down, she folded them with the faded sides together. A pale rectangle showed on the wall where their daughter’s bookcase had been. The bookcase had gone to her first flat, then somewhere else neither of them knew.

“Will these fit?” Arthur asked.

“I’ve measured.”

He climbed down and carried the steps onto the landing. There was nowhere to put them without blocking a door.

Downstairs, Elsie found the biscuit tin beneath a pile of clean tea towels. She offered it to him when he came in. Two biscuits remained, with a little broken piece between them. He took the broken piece as well.

“The meter man won’t need to come inside,” he said. “I’ve left the numbers for him.”

She brushed crumbs from the tin into her palm.

“Put them with the keys.”

Outside, a car slowed, then continued along the road. Arthur watched it pass before drawing the sitting-room curtains for the last time. He stopped halfway and left them open; Elsie still needed the light.

### hop 215 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 65, 257 words)
After supper, Elsie washed the two plates and Arthur dried them. The newspaper for wrapping lay on the draining board, open at a photograph of a garden neither of them looked at.

“Those go in the last box,” she said.

“I know.”

He put a sheet between the plates, then wrapped both together. There was still room beside them for something small.

Elsie opened the drawer under the cutlery tray. It held string, a radiator key, and the instruction book for a cooker they no longer owned. At the back was a packet of birthday candles with three missing.

“Leave the key,” Arthur said. “They’ll want that.”

She set it on the windowsill. The other things went into the bin, except the string, which she put in her apron pocket.

For a while he stood holding the empty drawer. There were crumbs in its corners, though nothing to eat had ever been kept there.

“Shall I give it a wipe?”

“I’ve done it.”

He slid it back carefully.

They had left two chairs in the kitchen. Elsie sat on one to take off her shoes, pressing each heel against the other toe. Arthur checked the back door and lifted the handle twice.

“Milk’s cancelled,” she said.

“Yes.”

“And you rang about the telephone?”

“Yesterday.”

She carried her shoes upstairs. He followed with the mugs they would need in the morning, then remembered and brought them down again. Beside the kettle he placed two teaspoons on a folded cloth.

Before going up, he checked the arrangements once more.

### hop 216 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 66, 260 words)
By six o’clock the kitchen clock had been taken down. Its place above the door was marked by a pale circle and a screw Arthur could not get out.

“Have you packed the pliers?” Elsie asked.

He looked towards the hall, where the boxes stood with their labels facing the wall.

“It can stay,” she said.

He came down from the chair and put it back at the table. On the seat was a little plaster dust. He brushed it into his palm and carried it to the bin.

Their supper was in a saucepan on the stove. Elsie had saved enough potatoes for two, though one had a dark patch she cut away until there was hardly anything left. Arthur opened the tin of salmon. Neither could remember which box held the pepper.

“Salt will do,” he said.

She served the potatoes and divided the fish, giving him the piece with the skin because he liked it. They sat facing each other across the bare table.

From next door came the sound of a lawn mower starting, stopping, then starting again.

“He’ll catch that wire one day,” Arthur said.

“He knows where it is.”

Arthur moved his plate away from a nick in the table’s edge. Their son had made it with a saw, years before, cutting something he had been told to cut outside.

Elsie finished first. She folded her paper napkin and laid it beside her plate.

“There’s another potato if you want it.”

He shook his head, then reached for the saucepan.

“No sense leaving it.”

### hop 217 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 67, 262 words)
Elsie found the spare key in the drawer beneath the sink. It was attached to a wooden tag their son had made at school, with HOME burnt into one side. The string had gone black where it passed through the hole.

“Does this go with the others?” she asked.

Arthur tried it in the back door. He had to lift the handle before it would turn.

“Still works.”

She held out her hand, but he put it on the draining board.

“We ought to tell them about the handle.”

“It’s on the list.”

The list lay beside the kettle. Elsie had written it on the back of an envelope, then copied it onto clean paper because the envelope looked mean. There was the handle, the stopcock under the pantry shelf, and the dustmen coming early on Thursdays.

Arthur read it without picking it up.

“You haven’t said about the apple tree.”

“They’ll see the apple tree.”

He folded the envelope and slipped it into his pocket.

Outside, a bird was pulling at something in the grass. The washing line hung empty between its posts. Elsie had left the pegs in their bag; she could not decide whether they belonged to the house.

She put water in the saucepan and began peeling the potatoes over a sheet of newspaper. Arthur stood by the table, rubbing his thumb along the key’s wooden tag.

“We’ll need something to wrap the clock in,” he said.

“There’s a towel upstairs. Behind the bathroom door.”

He went to fetch it. She heard him open the airing cupboard first.

### hop 218 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 68, 262 words)
By four o’clock the sitting room had begun to echo. Arthur carried the last box into the hall and set it beneath the coats, although neither of them would need a coat until morning.

“Not there,” Elsie said. “We’ll catch our feet.”

He moved it a few inches towards the wall.

The man from the charity shop had left pale rectangles on the carpet where the bookcase stood. Elsie went over them with the sweeper, then put the sweeper in the cupboard. She had promised it to the woman next door and would have to remember not to let it go in the van.

Arthur was looking at the mantelpiece.

“I’ll take the battery out tonight.”

“Leave it till we’ve eaten. I keep looking there.”

The clock ticked loudly without the books. At their son’s flat there was a clock on the cooker, green numbers that Elsie could read from the sofa. She had noticed it when they went to measure the small bedroom.

“Did he say nine?” Arthur asked.

“Nine for us. The van comes at eight.”

He nodded, as though there were some advantage in knowing twice.

In the kitchen she opened the fridge. Two eggs, milk, the potatoes in their paper bag. Enough to avoid getting out another box.

“Have you put all the keys together?”

“Front door and garage.”

“There was another back-door one.”

“Your handbag?”

She shook her head. Arthur began checking his pockets while she knelt by the sink. The drawer caught halfway out, as it always had, and she lifted it clear of the runner.

### hop 219 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 69, 263 words)
After lunch Elsie washed the two plates and stood them in the rack. The tea towel was already packed. She found a clean one in the bag for the charity shop, used it, and folded it over the tap.

“Was that meant to go?” Arthur asked.

“It can go damp.”

He had brought the kitchen steps through to take down the curtains, but she told him to leave those. Their son had said the new people might be glad of them for the first night.

“They’ve probably got their own.”

“Well, they can throw them away.”

Arthur carried the steps back. From the kitchen she heard him open the cupboard under the stairs, then shut it without putting anything inside.

The charity man came at half past two. He wore a knitted hat although the afternoon was warm, and asked whether the bookcase separated into two pieces. Arthur showed him the screws at the back. They had to borrow a screwdriver from the kitchen drawer; the tools were taped up in a box marked SHED.

Elsie watched the shelves go out one at a time. Behind the lowest was a Christmas card addressed to the people who had lived there before them.

“Fancy that,” she said.

Arthur looked at the envelope, then put it with the newspapers.

When the man had gone, they drank tea standing at the kitchen counter. Elsie rinsed the cups and left them beside the kettle. Arthur took the empty biscuit tin from the windowsill and pressed it into the last open box, between a cushion and his slippers.

### hop 220 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 70, 258 words)
By eleven they had cleared the dining table except for the telephone and a saucer of things neither of them would claim. There were two brass hooks, a foreign coin and a key with a square of sticking plaster round its stem.

“That’s the back door,” Arthur said.

“The back door’s on your ring.”

“The old one, then.”

Elsie put the key in the saucer again. The lock had been changed after their son lost his school bag, though the bag turned up that same evening at a friend’s house.

Arthur lifted the telephone to wipe beneath it.

“Still working?” she asked.

He listened, then held the receiver towards her. She nodded without taking it.

Their son would come at nine the following morning. He had told them not to pack anything else after supper, and to keep the kettle where they could reach it. Elsie had written this down beside the meter readings.

For lunch she opened a tin of tomato soup. There was bread in the freezer, four slices stuck together, which Arthur separated with the handle of a spoon. They ate at the small kitchen table with the back door open.

“We could leave them the spoon,” he said. Its handle was bent.

“They’ll have spoons.”

“I expect they will.”

She divided the last of the soup between their bowls. Outside, a blackbird was pulling at something in the strip of earth beside the path. Arthur watched it while he finished his bread, gathering the crumbs against his thumb before putting them into his mouth.

### hop 221 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 71, 262 words)
Elsie had put the empty biscuit tin beside the boxes marked KITCHEN, but Arthur brought it back to the dining room.

“There might be screws,” he said.

“There are screws in the shed.”

“These will be different ones.”

He took off the lid. Inside were three Christmas cards, a packet of needles and the instructions for an electric blanket they no longer owned. Elsie laid the cards face down, checking the handwriting before she put them with the newspapers.

“Your sister,” she said, keeping one aside.

Arthur looked at the robin on the front.

“She always bought them early.”

The tin had left a pale rectangle on the sideboard. Elsie rubbed it with her sleeve, then stopped. On the carpet beneath the window stood the lamp their son had said there would be room for. Its shade was wrapped separately, in a pillowcase.

At half past ten Arthur made tea. He carried the mugs through one at a time because the tray was packed, although neither could remember which box it was in.

“We should have marked it,” Elsie said.

“We did mark them.”

“More particularly.”

They drank standing up. The chairs were still there, pushed neatly under the table, but each had something on it: folded curtains, a shopping bag, Arthur’s good coat.

Elsie finished first and began sorting the papers beside the telephone. There were envelopes with sums on the backs and a photograph from which someone had cut a small circle.

“Pass me that tin,” she said.

Arthur tipped its remaining contents onto the table and handed it over.

### hop 222 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 72, 265 words)
By nine o’clock the clock had been taken down, though its pendulum continued to knock softly against the case whenever Arthur moved it.

“Lay it flat,” Elsie said.

“I’m looking for somewhere.”

They had cleared the dining table the evening before. Now there was only a space at one end, just large enough for the clock if he moved the dish of keys.

Their son was coming after lunch with the car. He had measured the boot on Sunday and written the measurements on a card, which Arthur had put in his wallet. Neither of them had measured anything since.

Elsie opened the sideboard cupboard. At the front stood six sherry glasses they had agreed to give to the church sale. Behind them were the things that had not yet been discussed.

“Do we want these?” She held up a pair of brass candleholders.

Arthur turned one over.

“They’ll need newspaper.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

He set them beside the clock, carefully, as though she had asked him something else.

From the back of the cupboard she took a biscuit tin. A length of red ribbon was looped around it, not tied, and she drew this off and wound it around her fingers.

“We used to keep the guarantees in here.”

“Still do, probably.”

She shook it. Nothing made much of a sound.

In the hall a box had begun to split along its bottom seam. Elsie saw it through the doorway and went to fetch the tape, carrying the tin with her. Arthur remained by the sideboard, turning the little dish of keys.

### hop 223 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 73, 263 words)
Elsie had left two cups out of the packing, and Arthur had put his toothbrush in one of them.

“That’s the one I’m using,” she said.

He took the toothbrush out and stood it on the draining board. There was no sensible way to stand a toothbrush there. He laid it across the taps instead.

The kettle boiled while she rinsed the cup.

Outside, the bins were still waiting at the kerb. Arthur watched the man from number fourteen pull his back through the gate, walking backwards in his slippers. He wondered whether their son would remember to bring theirs in. Then he remembered there would be another collection before the house was handed over.

“Milk?” Elsie asked.

“Please.”

She gave him the cup without its saucer. The saucers were in a box marked KITCHEN, although she had always kept them in the dining room.

They drank standing up. Two chairs remained at the kitchen table, but each held a bag of things for the charity shop. Arthur moved a sleeve away from the edge of his cup.

“We ought to do the clock,” he said.

Elsie looked towards the hall.

“Before he gets here.”

“I said we ought to.”

The small stepladder was already beside the telephone shelf. Arthur carried it into the dining room and opened it beneath the clock. On the wallpaper, below the case, a pale scratch marked an earlier attempt to straighten it.

“Will you hold this?” he asked.

Elsie set her cup on the windowsill. She put one hand on the ladder and waited while he climbed.

### hop 224 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 74, 253 words)
The last drawer in the sideboard would not shut, although there was nothing left in it. Arthur pulled it out as far as it would go and felt behind it. His fingers found a birthday candle and a folded instruction sheet for something they no longer owned.

“Anything?” Elsie called.

“Nothing we want.”

He put both things in his pocket. The rubbish bag was upstairs, and he had only just come down.

On the sideboard stood the cardboard box their son had brought from work. It had handles cut into the ends and was too heavy to lift by them. Elsie had written GLASS on the lid, then added a line underneath, as though someone might mistake it for a suggestion.

“What time did he say?” Arthur asked.

“Ten.”

The clock in the dining room said twenty past eight. His watch said a quarter past. He had meant to wind the clock on Sunday, but Sunday had been taken up with the shed.

Elsie came through carrying a tablecloth. She folded it once more and placed it on top of the box.

“That’s going separately,” she said.

Arthur nodded. He could not remember which things were going with them and which their son was taking. Yesterday he had been corrected about the bread bin.

“Shall I make some tea?” she asked.

“I can do it.”

But she was already in the kitchen. He followed her, taking his toothbrush from his shirt pocket, where he had put it after finding the bathroom shelf packed.

### hop 225 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 75, 258 words)
Arthur had dressed before remembering that his good trousers were the ones Elsie wanted him to travel in. He stood beside the bed, considering whether the other pair was worth opening a suitcase for.

“Those will do,” she said.

“I might get dust on them.”

“There’s a brush in the car.”

There had always been a brush in the car, tucked into the pocket behind her seat. He had never used it, but was relieved to hear it had survived the sorting.

On the landing, three pale rectangles showed where the pictures had hung. The smallest had covered a crack. Arthur pressed his thumb against it, then wiped his thumb on his trousers.

Elsie was in the linen cupboard, counting pillowcases.

“Do we need to leave a key for the back door?” he asked.

“It’s the same key.”

“Of course.”

She stopped counting and began again.

He went into the bathroom. His toothbrush lay beside the basin on a square of toilet paper. Everything else was gone, including the little glass he had thought belonged to the house until Elsie wrapped it in newspaper. He put the toothbrush in his shirt pocket and turned off the light, although it had not been on.

Downstairs, the front room smelt of the carpet where the furniture had stood. Their son had said the new place would be easier to keep warm. Arthur tried to remember whether there was a cupboard under its stairs, then remembered there were no stairs.

He went through to the dining room to check the sideboard.

### hop 226 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 76, 262 words)
The alarm clock was on the floor because the bedside tables had gone. Arthur reached down to stop it and found that Elsie had already pressed the button. What he could hear was a lorry reversing somewhere beyond the gardens.

“Is that them?” he asked.

“Not till nine.”

She was sitting on her side of the bed with her slippers on. Between them, the mattress sloped towards the place where they had always met in their sleep.

Arthur looked at the window. Without curtains, it seemed both larger and less useful. A bird landed on the sill, made a small scraping noise and flew away.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” he said.

“We’ve had tea.”

There were two cups on the floor beside the alarm clock. His had a little left in it. He drank it cold while Elsie folded the sheet back over the blanket.

Their son had offered to come early, but Elsie had told him there was no sense in everyone standing about. He would meet them there with milk and bread. Arthur had wondered about telling him which bread, then decided that for one day it wouldn’t matter.

“Your clothes are on the chair,” Elsie said.

The chair belonged to the kitchen. They had brought it upstairs last night, and now someone would have to carry it down again. Arthur put his cup beneath it, safely between the legs.

From downstairs came the click of the heating pipes. He waited for the next click, knowing where it would come from, while Elsie went out to find her cardigan.

### hop 227 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 77, 258 words)
Before they went upstairs, Arthur checked the back door twice. The second time Elsie waited for him in the hall, holding the things they would need in the morning in a supermarket bag.

“It locks just the same,” she said.

“I know.”

He had meant to oil it in the summer. There was a tin somewhere, packed now, unless it had gone with the things their son had taken to the tip.

In the kitchen, a pale rectangle showed where the dresser had stood. Elsie had swept that patch herself, although the young man who bought it had offered. Arthur had watched from the doorway as she gathered a button, two dried peas and a photograph of someone’s dog into the dustpan.

“Was that ours?” he had asked.

“We never had a dog.”

“The photograph.”

She had put it on the windowsill. It was still there when he switched off the light.

Upstairs, they undressed in the wrong order, getting in each other’s way. Arthur sat on the bed to pull off his socks while Elsie stood with her nightdress folded over one arm. Usually she would have been in the bathroom by then.

“Shall I set it?” he asked, holding the alarm clock.

“May as well.”

Neither of them slept much. Once, Elsie got up and came back with tea, and they drank it without putting on the light. Arthur rested his cup against his chest. He intended to ask where she wanted it when he had finished, but for a little while he must have slept.

### hop 228 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 78, 256 words)
They ate their supper from the small plates because the others were already wrapped. Elsie had left out a saucepan for soup, but neither of them wanted soup, so Arthur opened the last tin of salmon and divided it with a fork.

“There’s bread,” she said.

“I’ve done some.”

He had cut four slices and put them on a piece of kitchen paper. The breadboard was in a box marked BATHROOM, a mistake neither had felt inclined to put right.

For a while they ate without speaking. With the curtains down, the kitchen window reflected the table and, beyond it, the dark square left by the clock. Arthur looked there twice before remembering his watch.

“Half past nine.”

“We ought to go up.”

Elsie folded the kitchen paper around the remaining slice. In the morning their son would arrive at eight. He had offered seven, but she had said there was no call for that, as though they had a long breakfast planned.

Arthur washed the plates. She dried them and stood them beside the kettle.

“Those can go in with us.”

He nodded. There were things for the van and things for the car, and several things whose destination had changed during the afternoon. He no longer asked.

While Elsie found a bag, he went into the front room. A flattened newspaper lay where his chair had been. He picked it up, then put it with the cardboard by the fireplace. On his way out he pressed the switch, though the light was already off.

### hop 229 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 79, 266 words)
The last curtain hook came away with a little plaster. Arthur caught the curtain against his chest and stood holding it while Elsie fetched the dustpan.

“Leave that,” she said. “You’ll tread it everywhere.”

He stayed where he was. Without the curtain, the window looked larger and not quite straight. There was a strip of yellow paint along the frame where the brush had never reached.

“I could touch that up.”

“With what?”

He remembered putting the paint tins out for collection on Tuesday. Elsie swept the plaster into the pan, then ran her thumb over a mark on the sill. It did not come off.

They folded the curtain on the floor, each taking an end. When they brought the ends together, Arthur stepped forward too soon and she had to pull her half towards her.

“Not like that.”

“All right.”

The second time they managed it. She put the folded length into a black bag and tied the handles, leaving the hooks in a saucer.

“Will they want those?” he asked.

“They can throw them away if they don’t.”

He set the saucer on the windowsill. Then, thinking it might scratch, he put an old envelope underneath.

From the kitchen came the hum of the refrigerator. They had been told to switch it off tonight and leave the door open, but there was still milk for the morning.

Elsie looked at the boxes beside the dresser.

“We haven’t eaten.”

“No,” he said. “I suppose we haven’t.”

He followed her into the kitchen and moved a roll of tape from his place at the table.

### hop 230 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 80, 259 words)
Arthur had written KITCHEN on the box before Elsie told him it was for the things from the sideboard. He crossed it out with three lines, but the word still showed.

“Turn it round,” she said.

He wrote on the other side. The pen made a dry scratching sound on the cardboard.

There were six good glasses and the one with the cloudy patch. Elsie wrapped them in newspaper, twisting the ends as though they were sweets. Arthur passed her the paper. Once he stopped to read something beneath his hand, then tore the sheet across.

“Was that anything?”

“No. Last month’s.”

She put the cloudy glass aside.

“We could leave that.”

“They won’t want it.”

“Neither do we.”

But when she reached for the next sheet, he gave it to her with the glass, and she wrapped it without saying anything.

Outside, a car slowed by the gate. Arthur watched until it went on.

“They said nine?”

“Between nine and ten.”

He pressed the flaps down while she taped them. A corner of newspaper stuck out, and he tried to push it back with his fingernail.

“Leave it. It’s shut.”

Elsie carried the pen to the dresser and stood looking at the window.

“We’d better do those while there’s light.”

Arthur brought in the kitchen steps. One foot rocked on the floorboard until he moved them a little to the left. Elsie held the curtain clear of his shoes as he climbed.

The hooks were stiff. He worked along the rail, passing each loose ring behind his thumb.

### hop 231 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 81, 258 words)
The kettle clicked off, but neither of them moved to pour it. Elsie was taking the paper out of the sideboard drawers. She laid the clean sheets on a chair and folded the marked ones into a square.

“Do you want these?” she asked.

Arthur looked at the rubber bands in her palm. Some had gone flat and stuck together.

“There’ll be some use for them.”

She put them in his coat pocket, where he would find them later.

The bottom drawer caught halfway out. Arthur held the sideboard while she pulled, though it was too heavy to move. Inside were a candle, two birthday cards and the instruction book for a radio they no longer had.

“I thought that was upstairs,” he said.

“What?”

But he had taken the book and was turning it over. On the back he had written the date they bought it, with the price underneath.

Elsie went to the kitchen. She poured one cup and brought it back for them to share. Arthur drank standing up, keeping the instruction book clear of the cup.

“The boxes are by the door.”

“I know where they are.”

He set the cup on the windowsill, then moved it onto the folded paper. The book went into the rubbish bag with the cards.

At the door he chose a box that still had tape across its bottom. He pushed against it with his hand.

“That one’s sound,” Elsie said.

He carried it to the table. The thick pen was beside the cup, its cap already off.

### hop 232 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 82, 259 words)
Arthur had brought the boxes home from the chemist’s in two journeys. The first three fitted inside one another. The fourth he carried under his arm, stopping at the gate to get a better hold.

Elsie opened the door before he knocked.

“They didn’t have any more?”

“There were bigger ones.”

“These will do.”

He left them in the hall. One had a torn corner, and he turned that side towards the wall.

In the sitting room, the sideboard stood with its doors open. Elsie had taken out the plates and put them on the table in stacks of four. Between the stacks were pieces of newspaper she had cut with the kitchen scissors.

“Not the Sunday paper,” Arthur said.

“It’s last week’s.”

He lifted a corner to see the date. Underneath was the blue plate with the chip at the edge. He put the paper back.

They had until Thursday. The man on the telephone had said he could come early, before his other job, if everything was ready downstairs. Arthur had agreed without asking Elsie. Afterwards she had written Thursday on the calendar, although there was nothing else in that square.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” he asked.

“I’ve filled it.”

He went through to the kitchen and pressed the switch. On his way back he found a rubber band beside the skirting board. He picked it up and stretched it between two fingers.

Elsie was looking for something to write with. He fetched the thick pen from beside the telephone and uncapped it for her.

### hop 233 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 83, 258 words)
On Monday morning Elsie emptied the drawer beneath the telephone. There were three address books in it, though they only used the smallest one, and a packet of envelopes whose edges had gone brown.

Arthur stood beside her with the wastepaper basket.

“Those are still good,” he said.

She laid the envelopes on the stairs.

At the back of the drawer was a key neither of them recognised. Arthur tried it in the cupboard under the stairs, then in the back door, although it was plainly too small. When he returned, Elsie had finished the drawer.

“Leave it on the windowsill,” she said.

“Someone might want it.”

“That’s where they’ll find it.”

He put it beside the little dish of foreign coins. There was dust beneath the dish, a clean circle where it had stood. He moved it back into place.

Elsie carried the address books into the sitting room. From the hall he could hear her opening the sideboard, the catch that needed lifting before the left-hand door would move.

“We’ll need boxes,” she called.

“There’s the suitcase.”

“For plates, Arthur.”

He looked towards the stairs, where his coat hung from the newel post. The pockets were full of things he had meant to sort out: receipts, a folded shopping bag, the appointment card from the dentist.

“The chemist puts them out by the till,” he said.

“Ask first.”

He found his cap beneath the coat. Before going out, he checked that he had his own door key, running his thumb along its teeth inside his pocket.

### hop 234 (GPT-6 Astra, run astra_json_prev_orig_ext, its hop 84, 267 words)
On Sunday evening Arthur brought the biscuit tin through, although they had finished the biscuits on Thursday. Elsie took the lid off and looked inside.

“I thought you’d put the letter in here,” he said.

“It’s under the clock.”

He left the tin on the table and went back for the letter. The paper had been folded twice to fit its envelope. He smoothed it against his knee before reading the date again.

“We’ve got a fortnight.”

“Thirteen days now.”

Outside, their neighbour was washing his car. Water ran along the gutter, carrying a yellow leaf as far as the drain, where it stopped. Arthur watched him uncoil more hose.

“Will there be somewhere for the tools?” he asked.

“There’s a cupboard on the landing.”

“That’ll be for towels.”

Elsie held out her hand for the letter. She read the second page, though there was nothing on it but a telephone number and the name of the woman who had shown them round.

“The small hammer can go in the kitchen drawer,” she said.

Arthur nodded. He had two small hammers, one with a loose head. He could mend it before they went, provided he could find the wedges.

Elsie folded the letter along its old creases.

“We ought to make a start.”

“Not tonight.”

“No. Tomorrow.”

He took the biscuit tin back to the kitchen. There were crumbs in one corner, and he tipped them into his palm, then stood a moment deciding where to put them. When he returned, Elsie had switched on the television. He sat beside her, leaving the letter under the clock.