I drove to Peakville that afternoon.
The Old Man had locked the front door of the house, and he could not fit the key into the lock. Eventually he gave up, and passed me the key through the letter-box.
On top of the fridge-freezer there was a salvageable bag of roast potatoes.
The fridge was full of food that we had bought on Saturday 27 February, but all the frozen bread had been eaten. The Old Man had probably eaten two meals other than toast while I had been absent.
On the plastic dish-rack alongside the sink, there was a broken glass bowl with remains of soup in it. The Old Man must have used the bowl to cook soup on the electric hob — he had probably forgotten where the saucepans were kept.
[Original posting 17 March 2010]