When I open my eyes, I see bright flashing lights. A shadow on the wall. I am in my hallway. Where is Bob?
‘Bob?’ I call.
I don’t remember what happened after the door was ripped from its hinges.
A woman walks towards me. She’s in uniform, a police officer.
‘Helena, you’re in shock,’ she says, tightening what looks like an alfoil blanket around my shoulders. I’ve seen this in movies. ‘You’ve had quite an experience tonight.’
‘Where’s Bob?’ I ask, my eyes darting up and down the hallway.
‘My name’s Mandy,’ she says. Even in my shocked state, I know she’s avoiding my question. ‘Have a sip of water.’
The door. What happened. I glance towards what used to be our front door, forcing the memory. I make out a dark, shiny patch between it and where I sit.
‘What’s that?’ I ask Mandy.
‘You’re lucky Helena.’
I wonder how anyone, on seeing this destruction, could label it as fortuitous. And Bob! Where the hell is he?
‘The ambos will take you to the hospital now,’ Mandy says.
It’s then I notice two men in green overalls next to me. I have a blood pressure cuff on my right arm. How did I not see them and feel the pressing of the cuff before.
Mandy continues, ‘My partner and I will be there shortly, to take your statement. OK?’
I nod. ‘Where’s Bob?’
The ambos put me on the gurney and wheel me out of my home. Nobody answers my question.