They let her out of the home the other day. Said it would do her good. She was becoming too institutionalised, just sitting there all the time, staring out of the window and talking to it. He had tried to resist, saying he couldn’t cope. Said his heart was playing up. But they were having none of it. Expenditure cuts and all that. Everybody had to tighten their belts. It would only be for a weekend they said. Surely that wouldn’t be too much of a strain. She was his wife after all. He collected her on the Saturday morning. She hadn’t changed. She was still wearing the old striped cardigan with the traces of egg stains engrained across her breasts and her hair…