An old foot bellows organ which wheezed and squeaked dusty puffs of prayer books and cold, Methodist chapels. Mice lived inside it and when they were away it could be persuaded to make a sound. Out of tune and rotting it was, but the red velvet washers on the stops were still bright and attractive and it drew Cathy into the rockpools of her music. It's sad that we have not learned to use tape recorders like cameras.