One part of the upper floor had been partitioned off -- a more recent structure, and I entered it. The only furniture was a desk pushed against the window and a narrow bed on the opposite side with a small table next to it. One wall was covered with pictures: in frames, mostly, but interspersed with squares of photographic paper fastened to the rough wood with sewing pins stuck in at odd angles. Old pictures, to begin with: of family, mostly. Happy, smiling faces -- me and Donna straddling the back of a skinny grey mare, and Mum at the beach on one of our rare holidays, sitting in a...