When, eventually, he’d driven his yawning mother past the Roundhouse, the place was in darkness, but the smart blue BMW was once again parked outside the front gate. He drove on, feeling like a git. Spending a night in an empty house couldn’t be comfortable.

As he was feeling no better about himself this morning, he let Nelson out into the garden, pausing to enjoy the view of the glittering, restless sea and wonder why anyone would live anywhere other than Nelson’s Bar, then passed half an hour strumming one of his favourite guitars on the garden bench. It always put his soul at peace.

When it was nine o’clock, mindful that yesterday Clancy hadn’t seemed to be looking after herself, he stuffed four cereal bars in his pockets, called Nelson and snicked on his lead, then stepped out into the early summer sunshine. He strode past the rest of Potato Hall Row, mainly flint cottages edged with red brick. Nelson’s feathery tail waved as the king-sized canine sniffed hedges and gateposts. They made their way down the curve of Long Lane to the Roundhouse.

The scent of clipped privet was strong on the air as he passed 3 Roundhouse Row where Ernie could be seen sweeping up hedge trimmings. ‘Aaron!’ Ernie hailed him at max volume. ‘Do we have a new Evelyn? Dilys says we have but nobody’s told me.’ He waved towards the blue BMW parked in the lane and leaned on the broom handle, shaggy grey eyebrows knitting above the bridge of his nose.

Aaron met Ernie’s scowl with a smile. There was no point trading Ernie grump for grump. He couldn’t help but attack every subject like a threat any more than Aunt Norma could help tripping on uneven pavements. ‘Possibly,’ he replied.

Ernie revolved on the spot as Aaron attempted to carry on by. ‘And she’s Alice’s cousin? Come to represent the family interests, has she?’

Aaron shrugged, managing to sidestep Ernie on the second attempt. ‘Hard to say. Hedge is looking great, Ernie.’ Ernie was instantly distracted, beaming with pride as he patted his manicured privet, and Aaron escaped. Dilys must have met Clancy, which was like telling the whole village, and Aunt Norma had the same knitting and sewing mates. It was no doubt only because she was in hospital that he hadn’t already received an indignant phone call about a member of Alice’s family living in the Roundhouse.

He broke into a jog, determined to pass Dilys’s cottage without being collared again but, thankfully, her red gingham curtains were drawn and he was able to slip through the gate to the Roundhouse.

It was no use checking for drawn curtains there as every window was presently bare. His conscience gave him another prod. He gave the outer front door a gentle knock. If she was upstairs asleep – on what? – she would be unlikely to be disturbed by it and—

A brisk rattle, then the porch door swung open and Clancy stood in the opening wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her chestnut hair fell poker-straight and glossy to her shoulders, the fringe framing those direct green eyes.