‘I’m from Dorling and Cavendish. We’re developers. We build groups of superior dwellings for people of comfortable means, and we’d like to make you a generous offer to purchase Saffron Lane.’

Angus cut him short. ‘I’m not selling any of my land.’

‘You haven’t heard what our offer is yet. I’m sure we can tempt you.’

‘I don’t need to hear any offers because I do not wish to sell my land.’

The man made a graceful gesture, encompassing the whole row. ‘Not even this scrubby bit of land at the far end of your grounds?’

‘Not even one square metre of it.’

‘We could offer to finish all the structural repairs to the outside of the big house as well as pay you a good price for this end bit.’

‘What? It’d not be worth your while to repair my family home. It’d eat all your profit.’

‘If you let us survey it, we could make an informed decision on that. We’d put a ceiling amount in the contract, of course.’

‘No, I said, and no was what I meant. It’s spelt N-O in case the word is unknown to you. No, I do not want to sell and no, you’re not surveying anything. Now, you’ve had your two minutes and I’ve given you my answer, so damned well go away and let me get on with my work.’

‘At least think about it.’

Angus glared at him and stabbed one forefinger towards the door. ‘Out! Or do I have to push you off my premises?’

His visitor held up one hand, palm outwards. ‘All right. I’m going. But I’ll just leave our offer here.’ In another sleight of hand, an envelope appeared and was dropped on the windowsill before Angus could protest.

Dorling stepped away from it, inclining his head as he left.

Angus ignored the envelope and went back to work.

When the all-too-short winter daylight faded, he packed up and walked towards the front door. He hadn’t got far enough to switch on the electricity at this stage of the rewiring, though he hoped to get finished with this house by tomorrow.

He stopped in the middle of the room, stared across at the envelope and shook his head. He should just throw the damned thing on the fire and be done with it.

But when he reached the front door, he stopped again and with a growl of anger at his own stupidity, turned round, snatched up the envelope and stuffed it into his pocket. He didn’t want any of the workmen who came in and out of the houses seeing this and he might as well find out what his land was assumed to be worth. Nell would want to see the figures, he was sure. A very savvy businesswoman, his Nell.

He smiled wryly as he locked the door and tramped across to the big house.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to know what they were offering, too. It’d save him having this bit of land valued, if nothing else.