WHEN BANKS got back to Newhope Cottage after talking to the Bartletts that evening, he found a note from the courier company to the effect that there was a package too large for his letterbox waiting for him round the back. Curious, he walked around to the wooden chest he had been having packages left in for years and found that whatever was in it was so big it wouldn’t shut properly.

He carried the large, well-wrapped box into the front room and started to remove the wrapping. It seemed to take forever, and he had to fetch a box cutter from the kitchen drawer, but he knew what it was before he managed to cut off the last strip of cardboard and saw the envelope taped to the case. He opened it up and pulled out the card, which read:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND

HAPPY STRUMMING, DAD!

LOVE,

BRIAN

A guitar. But not just any guitar. When he opened up the case, he saw it was a Martin D-28, just about the best acoustic guitar on the market. He took it out and held it in his hands. Then he strummed it and found, naturally, that it was out of tune. That would be the first job.

There was a care package of extras with it, and Banks found spare strings, plectrums, a cleaning cloth and an electronic gizmo you attached to the neck, which told you the note of each string as you tuned it. He found something else, too: a copy of Bert Weedon’s Play in a Day, the legendary manual used by Eric Clapton, George Harrison, Pete Townshend and John Lennon, among others. Not that Banks imagined he would ever be able to play as well as any of them, but at least he would get the same start.

He had tears in his eyes as he stroked the smooth wood and rested it on his knee. He had been quite resigned to buying his own guitar—and it certainly wouldn’t have been a Martin—but this was a wonderful gesture from his son, and it almost overwhelmed him. It wasn’t even his birthday for another two weeks, but that didn’t matter. No doubt Brian wanted to get it to him before he bought an inferior model for himself.

The guitar put the Hollyfield case quite out of his mind as he tried to work out how to use the gizmo to tune it. He remembered that strings were supposed to be EADGBE, which was a good start, and soon found that if he tightened or loosened each string in turn, the electronic tuner showed him what note he was playing.

He had managed to tune the first three strings when his phone rang. He cursed, but when he saw it was Gerry, he put the guitar aside. He had been expecting her to ring. “Yes, Gerry? How did it go?” he asked.

“Just as you expected, guv.”

“Excellent.”