“What happened?” I shouted into the dark.
“Thought I heard something,” my husband croaked, “banged my head and fell.”
“Why didn't you turn the light on?”
“Bulb went. And you've moved the torch.”
“Did I? Robert, go and check in the kitchen.”
As my eldest did as he was told, Oak asked “Is there something down there.”
“I don't know,” came the reply.
“Are you hurt?” I shouted.
“Don't think so. Just pinned down and a bit sore. We've got to do something about all this junk.”
“For now,” said Oak, “The junk can wait.”
