The curving drive leading to the home was gravelled and weed-free; McMurtaghy’s car tyres rasped as he swung into the parking area located near the Palladian-pillared entrance to the main building. The air was soft, the temperature agreeable, late afternoon sunshine sent long shadows across the shaded lawns, scattered with chairs, now empty of the residents who would earlier have been enjoying, under the watchful eyes of carers, the agreeable afternoon sun. McMurtaghy locked his car, stretched his arms wide and eased his back, stiff after the long drive and made his way into the echoing hallway that held the reception area. The blue-rinsed lady behind the desk was mature, well groomed, confident in her white uniform and seemingly efficient. She gave him a gleamingly expensive smile when he tendered his name. ‘You have an appointment to see Mr Cooper,’ she murmured, consulting her computer screen. When he nodded confirmation she said, ‘An attendant will join you in a moment.’ She placed a manicured finger on a button on the desk in front of her.
