A Visit to Margaret Vale

Chapter 1:

## The Photographs in the Blue Envelope

The blue envelope arrived at reception on a wet Thursday afternoon.

It was thick and slightly bent at the corners, with the name **MARGARET VALE** written across the front in careful capital letters. Someone had drawn a small line beneath the name, as if there could be no mistake about where it belonged.

A woman stood on the other side of the glass doors, holding the envelope against her coat.

She had made an appointment to visit Margaret at three.

It was now ten minutes past.

Outside, rain tapped against the metal handrail and gathered in the empty flowerpots by the entrance. Inside, the care home smelled of furniture polish, overcooked cabbage, and the lavender spray one of the cleaners used in the hallways.

I pressed the button to unlock the door.

The woman stepped into the small reception area but did not remove her coat.

“Can you give these to my mother?” she asked.