In the lounge, Marty bent over another crate. He filled it with books replete with childhood memories: his mother reading him to sleep even when he was old enough not to need it. Why she kept them, he had no idea. At this rate the entire town's charity book stock would be courtesy of her. He ran his finger down a battered, dog-eared Biggles novel which she gave him one Christmas. With a sigh, he stood upright, trying to ease his back and flexing his equally sore knees.
"Marty? Come and see t