To do: Call in on Onion, check she has enough heroin… To do: Tues pm. Tescos: pizza bases, frosted Shreddies, Coke. Is football kit clean?! To do: Wed. Dress Mrs Golightly’s ulcers, new patient, check Onion last thing, tkd. To do: REPORTS! I was chugging along, just keeping up with everything: miserable git of a mid-list writer husband; two pimply oafs who had once been my darling little boys; rabbit. Too many patients. Too much work. Too much bureaucracy. Never enough money. The last chink of light was the martial arts. Then Tattoo rode into town on his Harley and my life blew up. Literally.