‘No, Annie, of course he’s not. That’s a horrible thing for them to say.’

‘I just wish he’d grow up and get a life,’ Annie said, and Grant truly was with her on that one.

The doorbell chimed and Grant looked over at Mary. He didn’t know why but he was filled with nerves all of a sudden. Was it the thought that it might be Ethan at the door? Or the police again? He really didn’t know.

‘I’ll get it,’ he said.

Grant walked through the hallway towards the front door. It was still light outside and as he approached he noticed out of the porch window who was standing on the front step. Ed Francis. The nosy neighbour.

What was he doing there? Come to gloat about the police’s appearance yesterday? Or to find out some more of the details, some juicy gossip to pass on to the other busybodies in the street?

Grant shook his head to clear his thoughts before he opened the door.

‘Hi Steven,’ Francis said, peering over Grant’s shoulder. ‘Not a bad time, is it?’ he asked, and it sounded like he hoped the answer was yes.

‘Course not,’ Grant said, acting relaxed and nonchalant. ‘Why would it be?’

‘What? Oh, no reason.’

Grant resisted rolling his eyes. What had Francis expected him to say? To give him all the gory details of yesterday’s incident with their out of control son?

‘Yeah, anyway,’ Francis continued in his annoying southern wide-boy accent, ‘the reason I popped over was, I noticed the other day, when you were cleaning out your garage, that you had a set of golf clubs in there.’

This time Grant had to try really hard not to roll his eyes. Was there anything this guy didn’t see?

Francis stopped talking and Grant wondered what he was waiting for.

‘Yeah. And?’

‘Oh, I just wasn’t sure if you’re still a golfer or not.’

‘I was never much of a golfer, to be honest, but I play every now and then.’

‘Great. The thing is, I just joined a new club. You know the Belfry?’

Did Grant know the Belfry? That world-renowned golf club just down the road that had hosted the Ryder Cup four times? Oh yeah, that rang a bell. Even someone who didn’t know a birdie from a bogey had heard of the place. This was typical Francis. The guy and his wife had only moved to the area a couple of months ago but from the little Grant could make of the two they were out and out show-offs. Fancy cars, fancy clothes. Fancy golf club. Always trying to rub their wealth in other people’s faces. Perhaps that was why Francis was always snooping about the place. He was determined to make sure he was the most overtly rich and fashionable person on the street.