She had been sitting in the wreckage of our flat when her car was done. She was all sympathy and urged us not to "react" and move away. Spent a lot of time boring us with tales of others who had "recovered" from the trauma etc etc etc. Then she left, found her motor had been broken into ~ radio nicked etc and came back, in tears, to us to borrow our telephone. This was back in the late eighties when mobile telephones were the size of bricks and only City types had them. I had to remind her that our burglars had cut the phone line (I assume they do that in case you have a burglar alarm with auto dial to the police) so she wept her way to the public telephone on the corner, found that had been wrecked and sobbed her way off down the road. We sat in the flat and wept ~ with laughter.
