Prologue
212 Words
Tangwhin Farmhouse had seen little activity for some time when it fell into the care of old Derek Gainsborough in the chill winter of 1991. At some point in the past it had perhaps been immaculate, but over the years the house had quietly retreated into a more modest display of rising damp and falling eaves. The farmhouse, surrounding gardens and barn had cost Derek most of his life’s savings, with the vast majority of its total purchase paid for by a familial benefactor who had yet to move in with him, despite encouraging displays of certitude that that would be the case. In any case, the nephew had paid his share to the effect that the house was more his than Derek’s.
Left alone, Derek found there were qualities to this formerly impressive house and surroundings that he enjoyed, but still he struggled to endure his first winter above the rising hills and heathlands of Cerrigydrudion, North Wales. Bound to his wheelchair for indeterminable years, he compensated as best he could, and the kitchen of Tangwhin Farmhouse became the majority of his home. Weeks rolled by with greater regularity than the wheels of his chair, and all word of company ceased at all.
What circumstance should press a man to this?
PART I
- Writer
