She sat down with a cup of tea, made herself comfortable and dialled the number.
A woman’s voice came on, “Hello.” There was a pause. “Sorry. How did you get this number?”
The old lady said, “Pardon? My hearing isn’t so good.”
“I don’t understand how you got this number,” came the reply. “For you to be calling here is most inappropriate.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“I can only repeat, however did you get this number?”
“Oh! I see. I bought it on the Internet.”
“You did?”
“Oh! Yes dear, you can buy just about anything on the Internet.”
Prolonged silence. “On the Internet, you say. We need to look into that.”
“Yes. It wasn’t cheap, I can assure you of that!”
After a silence. “You do realise that strictly speaking this line is not a line for the… well, not for the living.”
“Yes, I know, but I really wanted to schedule.”
“Schedule?”
“Yes, with your man. You know, the one bony chap with the black cloak and the big scythe.”
More silence.
She went on. “I’ve always been something of a private person, you see. I know it’s getting close. Popping off, I mean. I’d really like to slip away quietly without family, friends and neighbours all gathering around, commiserating and generally carrying on.”
More silence.
“There was an awful fuss that time I dropped the iron on my foot. It was… well I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”
A polite cough was heard from the other end. “No. Probably not.”
“I was hoping you could schedule him for next week… preferably Tuesday. They’ll all be away you see, the family, on holidays, and the old man from flat number seven never calls in on a Tuesday.”
Still nothing on the other end.
“I was hoping you’d understand.”
A long silence, followed by, “Thank you for the call madam.”
Then, in a softer voice, “I’ll see what I can do.”