I brushed some hair away from my damp eyes and pulled a curious face at Harley. Bloody hell. And now she was offering to make me a cup of tea. Maybe underneath Lily Cruickshank’s concrete exterior beat a heart after all.

I headed round with Harley to the imposing entrance with its heavy panelled door. Lily locked up and, making no comment, urged us to follow her.

We trailed behind her, like obedient ducklings following their mother.

Lily brushed aside the woodland branches that dipped and weaved like loose shoelaces, crossed the glade, and indicated to her more modest but pretty abode as it emerged through the trees.

The hanging baskets either side of Lily’s front door swayed like little boats on a gentle tide.

“Door’s open,” she barked, as she bustled towards her flapping washing line strung between two ash trees in the back garden. “No need to lock your doors round here. Not like in the city where there are bloody robbers everywhere you turn.”

No mugger would dare take you on, I thought to myself. But she still made sure Merry Wood was securely locked up again. I decided not to raise that point though, otherwise it would trigger another exchange of words between us.

“You can’t miss the kitchen.” She pointed to Harley. “Is she housetrained?”

“Yes. She picked it up very quickly.”

“Only I’ve just mopped my kitchen floor and I don’t want her leaving puddles all over it.”

I assured her again that Harley wouldn’t do that.

“All right. On you go then.”

I arched my brows and headed towards Lily’s front door. Harley gazed past me, still secured on her lead.

Sure enough, the galley-style kitchen was straight ahead down from the hallway, decked out with red and white gingham curtains and beech-panelled cupboards.

I tried not to stare at Lily’s sitting room to my right. It was furnished with a duck-egg-blue sofa and two matching armchairs. Navy cushions and drapes contrasted the biscuit carpet. To the left was her bedroom. The door was pulled almost closed, giving a fleeting glimpse of a poppy-decorated bedspread and a heavy oval standing mirror.

I reached the kitchen and unclipped Harley’s lead. “Now, don’t let me down,” I muttered to her out of the side of my mouth. “No leaving any deposits anywhere.” I hadn’t lied to Lily when I said she had picked up house training very fast, thanks to Mum and Dad’s diligent training whilst I was at work. But if she got excited, she had been known to still emit the odd dribble.

Harley thudded her bottom onto the coffee-coloured laminated floor, as if to say, “Bloody cheek! I hope you’re not referring to me!”

I heard Lily thudding down the hallway, cradling a plastic washing basket filled with the clean folded clothes plucked from the line. “Here,” I insisted, jumping to my feet. “Let me help you.”