The phone rang as I was grating the cheese into a bowl. I abandoned the grater and went into the living room to pick up. A voice like a refined foghorn hooted down the line. ‘Hello, Juno dear! Chloe here!’

‘Mrs Berkeley-Smythe, as I live and breathe!’ I declared. Her voice sent me into a slight panic and I began reaching for my diary. ‘You’re not back already, are you?’ The day before she returned from her cruise I was supposed to let myself into her house, dust, put her central heating on, switch on the fridge and buy her some basic groceries. Had I missed the date?

‘No, no! I’m ringing you from Malta,’ she assured me, laughing.

‘Well, you’re loud and clear. Are you having a good time?’

‘Marvellous! And that’s why I’m ringing. The dear old cruise line has offered me fifty per cent off if I stay on for the next trip. And they’ll upgrade my cabin. I think they call it a no-brainer …’

‘They do,’ I told her. ‘So where will you be going?’

‘Oh, it’s only another whizz round the Med, but I thought I might as well … so, that means you don’t need to worry about me for another month.’

At that moment Bill strolled in from the kitchen, a shred of grated cheese hanging in a yellow ringlet from his eyebrow. I hissed at him.

‘What?’ bellowed Chloe.

‘Nothing. So what date are you coming back?’

‘It’s either the twenty-third or the twenty-fifth, but, don’t worry, I’ll let you know for sure.’

I wished her another bon voyage, which she seemed to find hilarious. I like old Chloe. She was blithely and unrepentantly cruising her way through her children’s inheritance and I didn’t blame her. They weren’t very nice to her and had more than enough money of their own. She was determined to live at sea as long as she could, and die on board if she could manage it. She said that cruising cost less than living in a care home, and that the service was better. Her delayed arrival suited me. Once she returned, I’d have to rearrange my schedule all over again, if I was still going to fit in working for Old Nick, something I was still considering the wisdom of. I put the phone down and glared at Bill, smugly licking his paws. Plain omelette, then.

CHAPTER TEN

We bumped our way into the old airfield in Paul’s van and trundled down the cracked concrete of what must once have been the runway. I get up pretty early to walk dogs but I’m not usually awake before the sun, which was just venturing over the horizon, blushing the grey sky with pink. I yawned.