Some years ago I stayed at a small cottage in the woodlands of Rutland, the smallest and one of the most beautiful counties in England. Whilst gathering some logs from the woodshed, for it was October and cold, I noticed that there was an old fashioned bureau in the corner that was partly covered in the sort of residue associated with a garden shed. I took the logs into the cottage and fed some of them to the fire. Being naturally inquisitive I went back to the woodshed and the bureau. After removing sacks, bags of garden seeds and garden tools I found that it was not locked so opened the desk. It was surprisingly clean inside. I browsed through some of the contents but they were of no consequence and I was about to close ...
Some years ago I stayed at a small cottage in the woodlands of Rutland, the smallest and one of the most beautiful counties in England. Whilst gathering some logs from the woodshed, for it was October and cold, I noticed that there was an old fashioned bureau in the corner that was partly covered in the sort of residue associated with a garden shed. I took the logs into the cottage and fed some of them to the fire. Being naturally inquisitive I went back to the woodshed and the bureau. After removing sacks, bags of garden seeds and garden tools I found that it was not locked so opened the desk. It was surprisingly clean inside. I browsed through some of the contents but they were of no consequence and I was about to close the desk again when I noticed an envelope folder hidden by some loose pieces of paper. It contained pages of typed manuscript. The dates of some of them were quite recent.
I took out the papers and found that they were actually in the form of a number of stories with the following hand written introduction on the front page, which I show as a facsimile.
‘I have collected these tales, which I believe to be true, from a number of my friends, patients and fellow professionals. I vowed that I would not publish them until after my death and that they would remain anonymous.’
Some of the tales were in a modern setting and , in fact, my impression was that this was a recent collection. I subsequently made enquiries and found out that the writer or editor, whose name I cannot reveal for obvious reasons, had indeed died the previous year. The executors of his estate allowed me to keep, and publish the material if I so desired. I read the tales myself upon returning to the fireside of the cottage and found them disturbing, causing me loss of sleep and anxiety for a few days. I supplemented the tales with one or two of my own that had been handed down through the family or passed to me by friends. Apart from the ones I contributed some of the tales I can verify. Dream Suicide, I believe was based on real events. Jonkoping I heard about in the newspapers and The Mist is based on events in the North East, although this tale has a modern setting. Elle Vaison I cannot verify but I believe is based on something that happened in Minnesota in the 19th century
Harry is a business turnaround director, a published author and founder of a number of charities.
As well as being a Principal Consultant and team leader with two major Consultancy firms he has held senior board level appointments in a number of companies.
He founded the Rainbows Children’s Hospice, The Laura Centre, a bereavement counseling service for those affected by the death of a child and children affected by death and COPE, the children’s cancer charity. He is a published author and has received an honorary doctorate from the University of Loughborough as well as two Beacon Fellowship Awards.
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Overview
Some years ago I stayed at a small cottage in the woodlands of Rutland, the smallest and one of the most beautiful counties in England. Whilst gathering some logs from the woodshed, for it was October and cold, I noticed that there was an old fashioned bureau in the corner that was partly covered in the sort of residue associated with a garden shed. I took the logs into the cottage and fed some of them to the fire. Being naturally inquisitive I went back to the woodshed and the bureau. After removing sacks, bags of garden seeds and garden tools I found that it was not locked so opened the desk. It was surprisingly clean inside. I browsed through some of the contents but they were of no consequence and I was about to close ...