She had dressed with care and walked to the hardware shop to buy sturdy black plastic bags. The man behind the counter had assured her they were the strongest he stocked, although he hadn’t enquired what she intended to do with them. Evelyn was tempted to hint that she had chopped up a body that she needed to dispose of. She’d had such fun with people sometimes, back when she used to have fun. They were so easy to wind up, and she was great at playing whichever part might suit her story. Perhaps she should get in touch with that Evelyn Mountcastle and invite her to come and stay.

Back at the house, she sat at the kitchen table with the bags in a heavy roll in front of her, and despaired. What had seemed like a wonderful idea first thing that morning – clearing the kitchen so she could actually function – now felt akin to climbing Everest in flippers.

She sighed, defeated before she had even begun. How had she let things get so bad? There had been a time after Joan died when she had been on top of it all. She had even thought about re-engaging the cleaner that Joan had sacked. She had always liked her, and she missed having someone around the place to talk to.

But the weeks had rolled into months and then years, and she hadn’t done anything about anything. And this was the result. Chaos.

She took a deep breath, tore the first bag from the huge roll, and began. To start with, she checked each item before dropping it into the gaping mouth of the sack, but within ten minutes she took to simply sweeping the contents of each surface into the black void. It didn’t take long before she was quite enjoying herself, hefting the weight of the full bin bags as if that could determine their value. Soon she had ten filled to the top, and the floor was covered in things that hadn’t quite gone in the right direction when she whooshed them from the surface and into the waiting sack.

And it felt good. It was as if by clearing the backlog of stuff that had accumulated, she was also clearing her mind, her spirit. She felt lighter, less weighed down by it all. Maybe when she had the place straight, she could undertake a little refurbishment. She didn’t think she could bear the upheaval of anything major, but a fresh lick of paint and maybe a new carpet or two might be nice.