One of the wheels catches on a paving stone, the Zimmer frame lurches to the left into the gutter. Tom tugs to dislodge it. A discarded crisp packet entangling itself in the spokes. He found the Zimmer frame in a rubbish bin round the back of the hospital. He spent two hours cleaning it and tying ribbons around the handle bars. He’s chosen lilac, its Mary’s favourite colour.
They sent Mary home after two months, with a promise from Social Services to call. They came once, but what with the cut backs and all, it was left to Tom to look after Mary. Now Tom’s taking matters into his own hands. Mary’s not been out of the house for two months. They’re going for a walk, their first walk together in four months. Just like they used to before the accident.
The car didn’t stop, sped right through the red light. Mary was fortunate. Just a fractured hip, leg and pelvis. The baby buggy didn’t stand a chance. Smashed straight into it, crushing the frame against the railings. All Mary could hear was the bip bip bip of the green man, telling her it was safe to cross and the toy mobile hanging limply from the double buggy still playing three blind mice.
Yes – Mary was the lucky one.