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The echo of dripping water disturbed the silence in a deserted and gutted factory. Duncan Hewitt’s steps also echoed as he climbed the steel stairs to the darkened office. His pale skin reflected the redness of his eyes as he thought aloud about the past few months, to the closure of the factory.

“Where did I go wrong?” He said aloud, while looking at an old cigarette packet.

It was wedged in a crack in the brickwork; Duncan stood and pulled it out, with a bit of a struggle. It was well preserved, and as he opened it, he found an old drawing of a super sprint motor bike; on the bottom it had some faded writing which read- Designed by Charlie Wyatt (Apprentice Developer).

Duncan crouched down onto a beer crate and stared at this drawing for a few minutes then wept openly.

He then looked up at the diagonal square patch on the wall that used to be the home of his father’s portrait. He remembered it well, with his father Reginald, thin faced with white hair brushed back, bushy eyebrows.

“What would you have done Dad? If only you had been alive.” Duncan asked as he glimpsed at the picture once again, looked around the office. The picture appeared to be clear and his father’s voice seemed real “There was one important thing you overlooked Son.” Reginald said in his croaky voice.

“What was that Dad? Please tell me.” Duncan replied naturally as though he hadn’t passed away.

“Do you remember what the most important things that produced the bikes?”

“CNC’s and other machine’s” Duncan replied timidly. Reginald sighed

annoyingly and tutted “Typical, bloody typical, just think again Son.” A frown ran across his face showing every line of old age, watching Duncan’s every move as he walked around looking for that clue to the company’s downfall.

“Was it our Marketing strategies?” Duncan asked, but Reginald shook his head in disagreement.