‘And I’ve also had the police here last week asking questions,’ she bulldozes on, as though I haven’t spoken. ‘And I can tell you what I told them – we’ve been living here over thirty years, and if two people had been murdered and buried in the garden next door, well,’ she folds her arms across her chest, ‘we’d have seen. Nothing gets past me.’

That doesn’t surprise me.

‘Thirty years? So you arrived here in . . .’

‘1986. Bought it from a lovely old couple. They wanted to move to a bungalow near their son.’

‘You didn’t know my gran? Rose Grey? She wasn’t living here then, but she was the landlord. I don’t know if she ever came over or . . . ?’

But she shakes her head. ‘Nope. When we moved in a Beryl and Colin Jenkins lived in your house and I don’t remember meeting any Rose Grey.’

Snowy pulls at the lead and I bend down to stroke him. ‘And after them was it Mr and Mrs Turner?’ I ask, recalling Mrs McNulty’s conversation in the corner shop.

Brenda glares at me, and just when I think she’ll refuse to say, she leans towards me, and I can tell, despite her prickliness, she’s enjoying having a gossip. She pulls her cream cardigan further around her skinny body. ‘The Turners – Valerie and Stan – moved in around 1988 or 1989. Had a dodgy son. Always getting into trouble.’

‘Do you remember the son’s name?’

‘Harrison. Yes, that’s it, I remember because of George Harrison. He was a wild one. Felt sorry for his mum and dad. They were older. Stan had very bad arthritis.’

‘Have you told the police this?’

‘Of course I have. I told them last week.’

I hope they’ve looked into the son. I make a mental note to ask DS Barnes.

‘Anyway,’ I say, trying to sound cheerful, ‘there are no journalists right now. Maybe they’re having a day off.’

But she harrumphs and scurries back inside, without saying goodbye.

Later, I recount my conversation with Brenda to Tom as we stand side by side at the sink, washing up our dinner things before Mum insists on doing it. She’s already rearranged the cutlery drawer. I filled him in on our visit to Gran when we were eating.