[ WP ] Make me love a character , then in the final sentence make me hate him .

At the age of 56, Doctor Graham Chadford's death came as a shock to the small village of Sumperton. He had been at the last parish meeting less than a week before, and nobody there thought there was anything remotely wrong with his health. Word quickly got around the village of his passing, and hundreds sent their condolences to his son Andrew, his only heir. Andrew was not even thirty, and he had already lost both of his parents. 
 
 He had died in hospital, following a heart attack in his own GP office. It was a sudden heart attack, midway through treating a patient. The patient in question ran for help as soon as he realised, and Graham was quickly taken to hospital. A second heart attack followed in the middle of the night, this one proved fatal. 
 
 Dr Chadford was well respected in the village. He was the main GP and served not only all Sumperton, but also patients from villages nearby. He was a well respected member of the community, listed as a member of the local parish council, and involved in many community activities, from successfully petitioning the prevention of a city bi-pass that would've gone right through Sumperton, to assisting with the replanting of hundreds of new trees in after a strong storm battered the area causing thousands in damages. He even personally paid for some of those who had lost their homes to stay in hotels while they got their property sorted, and while the local council ( grudgingly ) reimbursed him, he said he would've done it either way. 
 
 The Chadford's were quite well off. Graham's late wife was an inventor, and held patents for a small device that was almost ubiquitous in any kitchen. The pair often joked they could retire at any point, and spent a small part of their fortune building their own home from the ground up, and over the years they had dozens of contractors in constantly making improvements and small changes, from double glazing and soundproofing, to extensions and a side garage. It was a lovely home, and one that suited the three of them to a tee. 
 
 Graham Chadford was well respected as a doctor. He had published numerous medical journals, on a wide variety of topics to do with patient care. The medical community had made note of his work, citing one particular paper on the ways to to ensure correct sustenance for patients who were unable or, unwilling to eat as ground breaking. His career started with him as a big city hospital doctor, but he soon found he preferred life in the country and when a GP's position opened up he leaped at the chance. 
 
 Of course, many who had known him for a long time would tell you this was him trying to repent. After the death of his wife some twenty years ago Graham had started drinking heavily. He struggled to cope with the loss of his wife Lorraine, and lashed out at anyone who tried to help him. He very nearly lost his medical license, and it was only through an intervention from some of his closest friends that he finally decided to sort himself out. 
 
 Andrew Chadford said at his funeral that although his father had made some mistakes, his father had redeemed himself in the eyes of many. Andrew tearfully spoke of a father who simply tried his best, and while not perfect, his father had always made it clear that he loved his son more than anything. 
 
 It took Andrew a couple of weeks to clear out his fathers house. He had put it off at first to grieve, but then relented and accepted he had to do it. Andrew took his time sorting through the possessions, finding souvenirs and photos of family holidays, old wedding albums, even some of Andrew's old drawings from when he was little. But the biggest surprise was in the basement, where, in a sealed up room, was stored a very skinny woman in her mid thirties, a woman who had been tied to the wall and fed through a tube her whole life. 
 

