As usual, Janine was taking a very long time to clean the kids’ playroom, a Tardis of consoles, screens, surround sound and interactive smart technology. ‘All the static makes for tricky dusting,’ she excused.

When Carly marched in with a mop and bucket to tackle the floor, she spotted her sister-in-law’s phone docked to download the Gunns’ latest music and movie collections, Janine’s meticulous console-button cleaning having ‘accidentally’ switched on the Nintendo, on which she was now ‘accidentally’ playing.

‘What is it Skully does to make his living?’ Carly asked, sluicing Dettox.

‘Matter of debate,’ Janine deflected, eyes on the ninety-inch curved screen where a cartoon redhead wearing unfeasibly large trainers was covering opponents in colourful goo, in a game of superannuated digital paintball.

Knowing the best way to engage her was in combat, Carly picked up a second controller and joined in. Years of close proximity to Ash playing snipers and felons had lent her a cruel assassin skill, a dragon tattoo away from psychopath. Janine’s little redhead was splatted in seconds.

‘Why d’you do that?’ Janine squirted the screen with Mr Muscle bad-temperedly.

‘You were telling me about Skully?’

‘I wasn’t, but if I was, I’d be telling you not to ask.’ She whisked off to dust a punchbag.

Carly mopped her back against the wall, boxing her in with two leather sagbags and a triangular floor cushion. ‘Why not?’

‘Just trust me on this,’ Janine sighed, spider’s leg eyelashes chorus kicking. Then seeing Carly’s killer face, she relented. ‘He’s harmless. Good man to have in your corner.’

Carly stared her down. ‘What does he want with Ash?’

‘What’s anyone want with Ash?’

‘You tell me.’

‘A piece of him.’

‘He’ll get a piece of my mind first,’ Carly fumed, letting Janine dart away to feather-duster the light fittings.

‘Skully’s got his knuckledusters in a lot of pies,’ she relented. ‘But it’s mostly protection work, I think. Bodyguards, doormen.’

Carly’s phone vibrated in her pocket before she could corner her with the mop again to demand to know more. Reading the incoming message, she let the mop handle drop. ‘So what would someone like Bridge Mazur want Skully’s number for?’

‘Contract killing,’ Janine breathed. ‘Everyone in the village knows that big Pole of hers throws his weight round. One call to Skully and he disappears – like that!’ She snapped her fingers, long talons flashing.

Janine deadpanned so well, Carly took a moment to see through it.

‘Either that or she wants his inky body.’ Janine gave her a who-cares? look.

Sucking her teeth, Carly mirrored it back. She knew when there were secrets being kept from her. But whose? Bridge might be a new friend she’d only met for coffee twice, but they messaged non-stop and she’d never come across as someone who would want to make the acquaintance of a local villain known best for fighting, fencing and fleecing.

Everything OK? she messaged Bridge.

A big smile emoji and a thumbs up came back. Looking to price some turfing.