Sunday lunch at Jan's was over. On the kitchen table were the bones of a small roast chicken, potatoes in cold fat, some broccoli in a bowl, half a chocolate pudding from the supermarket and a plastic pot of cream. There was also an empty bottle of cheap red wine and two glasses.

'Coffee?'

'That would be nice.' Kate played with her wine glass, then drank the last few drops.

'I'm afraid I can only offer instant coffee. I don't do proper coffee any more. It's just too expensive.'

'Oh.' Kate paused. She was obviously disappointed. 'Never mind. Instant will be fine,' she lied.

The April afternoon light shone weakly into the kitchen from the small backyard. Jan put on the kettle for coffee and switched on the light.

'We need some light on the subject,' she said as she banged two mugs on to the table and spooned in coffee from ajar.

Kate had arrived at one o'clock - just in time for lunch, when there was no risk of having to help prepare it. She parked her new red BMW outside Jan's house. There were empty beer cans on the pavement. The front gardens along the street were full of bags of rubbish lying among the weeds and long grass. The new car looked out of place among the old Fords, Fiats and Skodas parked in the dirty, grey street.

Jan poured hot water into the mugs and passed one over to Kate.

'Sugar?' she asked.

'No, thanks. I must be careful about my figure,' said Kate.

'Of course. I know you have to keep up appearances in your position,' said Jan without smiling.

'True,' said Kate with, a meaningful look at Jan's old sweater and dirty jeans. 'I can't afford to let myself go.'

'So what are we going to do about Mother?' asked Jan. Her voice sounded nervous.

'What do you suggest?' replied Kate, trying to control her nervousness too. The sisters were like wild animals getting ready to attack each other.

'Well, let's face facts. Mother can't look after herself any more. The doctor says so too. It's all happened so fast. She can't remember things. She forgets to turn off the cooker. She leaves the lights on all the time. Her fridge is full of rotten food. She wets the bed. She can't walk properly...'

Kate interrupted her. 'But is it really that bad? I mean, there are lots of old people who manage well enough on their own. Surely, if you just carry on coming round a couple of times a week, to check up on her...'

'Why me?' Jan was beginning to lose control of her feelings. 'Why always me? You seem to think I have nothing better to do than look after Mother.'

'It's not that...'