MinervaChapter 2
I was twenty-one that summer, and I was making one of my twice yearly obligatory visits to my only surviving relatives. Uncle Ernie – my father's brother – and aunt Gertrude his matriarchal wife - and latterly my surrogate mother - at their rather grand hotel on the south coast. To say my Uncle and Aunt were old fogies would be putting it mildly, but they had always been very good to me. Their hotel, set high on the cliffs overlooking a beautiful bay and its beaches, had been built back in...