Lazily, she rolled over onto her back, aware of a pleasant sense of well-being and opened her eyes to look up at an azure sky through the lace-like leaves of the mighty beech tree that soared above her. The little bird continued its diatribe, chasing the last remnants of sleep away like a morning...
The white ceiling above her, criss-crossed with carved oak beams, was unfamiliar. Turning her head on the pillow, she encountered a latticed window, flanked by chintz curtains liberally splashed with a pattern of pink roses. The view from the window was unencouraging - low, sullen grey clouds. Sh...