Chapter 1: The cottage
Don rested his red post office bike against the grass verge that edged the narrow country lane he'd been cycling along. He was ready for a break. He'd been up since half four. His country postal round was a 10-mile cycle ride from his home in Walton.The early start, on a grey and drizzly spring morning, had caught up with him. Here, surrounded by fields rather than chimneys spewing smoke, Don could see blue sky as the sun broke through the mist that often shrouds the Lancashire Plain first thing in the morning. The bike’s frame sank into the deep grass. The wood sage and red dead-nettle gave way. Don picked a flower and breathed in, holding each lungful before letting the air out with a long sigh. He spread his post office waterproof cape on the grass and eased himself down. His body sank deeper into the natural bedding of wild flowers and grasses. Don loved wild flowers. He was learning about them in his spare time as part of a correspondence course. Botany was one of three A-