Thirteen
Soon the table in the courtyard was filled with salads, sausage, smoked mackerel and many other things directly related or even ancillary to a feast. Not very far away from this, Derek was falling back into his wheelchair with a huff, having gone to the unseen side of the barn to urinate. He had been drinking with a fair wind behind him for most of the day and if that had lacquered his bones with comfort, it now seemed to want to leave his body entirely at once. He went for the brakes, turned starboard and slowly made his way back to the table, the sun still high above the barn and glazing the scene before him in warm tones. He stopped some metres from the table and watched the young folk at play. Herbert and Benjamin fought for clear table space to fill with more plates and the
