A strange woman comes to my door one day in early March. It's a prosperous area so we often have people selling things door-to-door - dusters, make-up, frozen foods - but she doesn't look like a professional saleswoman. She hasn't got the patter either. She just smiles awkwardly and thrusts a card in my hand: "Amy Turner. Pet Portraits Undertaken." I run my fingernail along the cheap gold edge of the card and look at …showed first 75 words of 2973 total…

…showed last 75 words of 2973 total…fridge is empty, I let the door swing shut and lean up against the painted front for support. Then, slowly and deliberately feeling my way with both hands, I reach into the cupboard under the sink and bring out the bundle of supermarket bags I keep there. I fill each one with good food and leave them in as straight a line as I can manage for Amy and Dan to find in the morning.