I went down into the shop, switched on the dreadful fluorescent light and surveyed the scene of chaos: the walls partly painted, the shelves and heavy furniture shoved into the middle of the room and draped with old sheets. I threaded a route through the furniture to the door at the front of the shop, a door I had never seen open, and sorted through a handful of keys until I found the right one, an old iron key that fitted into the large keyhole. I tried it but, despite all my rattling about, it was too stiff to turn. The bolts wouldn’t move either. I’d have to return with a can of WD40. Another day.

I was due at a client’s in a few minutes to tackle a load of ironing. Once a fortnight I worked my way through a basketful for an accountant who was very particular about his shirts.

I switched off the light, tucked the chess set under my arm and prepared to go out the way I had come in. When I opened the door, I shrieked and almost dropped the box. Paul was standing right outside, his hand raised as if he was about to press the bell.

‘Juno!’ He laughed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!’

We both laughed then, and after a moment’s hesitation, we hugged each other. Although we’d spoken on the phone, we hadn’t seen each other since before Nick’s murder, hadn’t touched. He knew all about my inheritance of course, after one long, long phone call. ‘I was driving by and I saw your van parked across the road. I noticed the light was on in the shop, so I thought I’d stop and say hello.’

‘I’m glad you did. It’s good to see you. Are you here for long?’

‘Just for a few days, whilst I’m sorting things out. I’ll be up and down quite a bit from now on.’

‘How’s your family?’ I asked.

‘Great. They’re all great.’

‘Good.’ He looked great himself.

There was a slight pause while we both stood smiling and shuffling our feet.

‘How’s it going in there?’ Paul nodded in the direction of the shop.

I sighed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what I’m going to do with it all.’

‘Can I help?’

‘That’s kind of you, but I’m sure you’ve got enough to do.’

‘I can find time to give you a hand.’

‘Look, Paul … I’ve got to go now,’ I said, checking my watch. ‘I’ve got a client in a little while.’

‘Still working, then?’

I made a face. ‘I can’t afford to stop.’

‘What about this evening?’ he suggested. ‘We can grab a pint and a bite to eat and you can tell me all about it.’

‘That would be wonderful.’

We agreed to meet at seven.