Into Slumber

Helen had returned to the old family home for her father’s funeral, and had stayed to sort through the house’s contents. She’d been more than glad to accept the family solicitor’s offer to arrange the funeral, and to handle the legal and financial side of things, but she felt bound to check through the property herself to make sure nothing of personal value would be lost when the house was cleared and it was put on the market. She had grown up in the place; she was already thoroughly familiar with what lay in it, and was confident that there was nothing of particular intrinsic value among the more substantial household items such as furniture, but the paperwork was a different matter. Her father hadn’t been one to throw things away, even after they’d long ceased to be of importance, and bills, receipts and bank statements alone filled a couple of filing cabinets. Letters, both business and personal, were stored in boxes in the attic; she had been rather dismayed when a superficial glan