CHAPTER 45
I heard the shattering of the glass first in the living room, and only a second later in the kitchen, and understood there were several assailants. This was not the time for courage and confrontation, no longer a matter of rude words at the WC or letters in a newspaper. It was an attack. I thought for a few moments, as more stones came and the shouting started. Whoreson. Cocksucker. Pervert. There were the voices of several men, but there were women, too, and I thought I heard the voice of a child. I had to run, but they were clearly all around, so I seized my wireless telephone and a kitchen knife and ran up my stairs as they began to strike at the door.