Hugo respected no boundaries. He took what he wanted from Clancy’s groceries, he hogged the TV remote and his personal habits were less than fastidious.

Presently, she heard voices and laughter from the garden of the Roundhouse and rap music began to blare.

With a sigh, she moved into the front garden of number four, where she was soon approached by Dilys hurrying along in orange floral flip-flops.

‘What’s all that blimmin’ racket?’ the older woman enquired irritably. ‘And whose is that blimmin’ big camper, clogging up the lane? Have you moved a rock festival to the village?’

Clancy continued doing battle with a rambling rose that seemed to let her close in on it with the sole aim of scratching her arms and depositing earwigs in her hair. ‘Alice is back,’ she muttered, snipping grimly, and went on to explain about Hugo. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of keeping her voice neutral but then Dilys put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

‘You poor girl,’ she said sympathetically. ‘There’s a chocolate cake in my fridge. Why don’t we go inside where it’s cool and you can help me eat it.’

‘That sounds wonderful!’ Clancy abandoned the rose bush and dumped her secateurs with the rest of the tools.

Before long she was seated at Dilys’s tile-topped table eating moist chocolate cake with a teaspoon and drinking a large glass of orange squash. Dilys disposed of her slice of cake by picking it up and munching it. She frowned. ‘To look on the bright side, I suppose it’s lovely for you to see Alice again.’

‘Mm,’ Clancy said through a mouthful of cake, feeling sheepish that in the shock and surprise of Alice turning up and moving her husband and a muddle of possessions into what Clancy had come to see as her space, she’d failed to entirely appreciate the return of her cousin. Her conscience gave a twinge as she remembered the years they’d been close and that Alice was entitled to marry whom she chose. Clancy ought to be making more effort.

Still, it was peaceful in Dilys’s house, so she lingered to help pick apart a mess of embroidery silks that had tangled themselves in Dilys’s work basket, then allowed herself to be persuaded into another slice of cake with a cup of tea. Finally, she said, ‘I’d better get those gardening tools put away and go back I suppose.’

Dilys gave her a big hug. ‘Don’t worry, pet. Things will work out.’

By the time Clancy arrived back at the Roundhouse she’d given herself a talking-to. All she had to do, she decided, was to ask if they could put a few boundaries in place to enable everyone to live comfortably together. Boundaries about possessions and tidiness would be a great starting point. She let herself in through the back door.

And found the mound of possessions larger than ever.

It looked as if Alice and Hugo had brought in the entire interior of the motorhome. Large flat cushions teetered in piles, pans cluttered up the sink and the whole place smelt musty and sour.