I jumped out to check. They were shaken and whimpering. There didn’t seem to be any bones broken, but without the wire safety grille I was convinced Schnitzel the dachshund would have joined me on the front seat. What really infuriated me was that the other driver didn’t even bother to get out of his car, just rolled down his window and laughed.

‘No damage done?’ he’d called out cheerfully.

Other than vandalising a bit of ancient hedgerow and upsetting me and the canines, no there wasn’t. ‘No thanks to you,’ I’d replied through gritted teeth. ‘You might like to consider slowing down.’ I jerked my head back in the direction I’d come from. ‘There are horse riders back there. Crash into one of them and they might make a nasty mess of your motor.’

‘Thanks for the advice,’ he responded smoothly and drove off, leaving me seething by the roadside, clearing broken brambles and squashed blackberries from my windscreen.

‘I’ll leave it with you then, Pat,’ I said, gathering up my things.

She was gazing at the panorama, deep in thought. ‘Yes thanks, Juno,’ she said, without looking up.

‘You’re welcome,’ I told her, standing up to leave. ‘How are the earrings going?’

Pat looked up at last. ‘Oh, they’ve sold really well! I’ve ordered some more beads and Ken’s making me a bigger display stand.’

‘Excellent!’ I muttered and stalked away, leaving Pat still staring pensively into the panorama’s painted interior.

My next call was on Maisie in Brook Lane. As I creaked open the garden gate I could see her standing in the porch of her cottage, busy fussing with a feather duster amongst the shelves, flicking it around the prickly army of potted cacti that defended her front door, whilst Jacko dozed in his favourite spot on her windowsill. She scowled when she saw me and tottered inside. She was sulking because the day before I’d insisted on putting her stinky old dressing gown in the washing machine.

‘Your friend’s in hospital,’ she told me as soon as I went inside. There was a waspish sting to her voice. ‘Did you know?’

‘What friend?’ I asked.

‘You know.’ She sat down. ‘Thingy.’

I viewed Maisie’s pink cheeks and bright eyes with suspicion and crossed the room to lay a hand on her cheek and then her forehead. ‘You’re not feeling feverish, are you? You are drinking plenty? We don’t want you getting dehydrated again. Remember what happened last time.’ I went to the fridge for a bottle of squash and poured her out a full glass. ‘Drink this.’ I held it out to her. ‘All of it.’