'I'd better tell Marge.' John dialled his wife's number as he spoke. No answer. She must be doing something important, too, he thought. I'll try again later.
Lying at the bottom of the stairs, one leg broken and twisted beneath her, Marge listened to her phone ringing in the bedroom.
'Don't panic,' she murmured. 'John'll be home soon. I'm sure the wait won't kill me.'