She paused for breath and a woman hurrying out of a shop nearly collided with her. As they both apologised a newspaper on the stand caught her eye. Bending, she read the headline: Body Found in Lake Identified. Connie looked more closely. There was a photo of a man. Middle-aged with light-coloured hair, unremarkable save for his ears, which stuck out like two handles of a teapot. She frowned. It was the man she’d seen with Kenneth in the garden. The caption even named him: Frank Dennis. She bought a copy of the paper, then tucked it under her arm and headed for home.

Connie’s first thought was that the gathering crowd near number 24 had something to do with Frank Dennis, but as she got closer, she saw debris covering the ground. An empty suitcase, clothes, books, a smashed reading lamp, a statue of Buddha. Eileen appeared at the window waving what looked like a script, which she proceeded to scatter, page by page.

The front door opened and Leonard appeared half-dressed in jeans and a vest. Zipping his flies, he leapt down the steps. The crowd laughed as he shook his fist.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he yelled.

‘I’m throwing you out!’

‘You can’t throw me out. It’s my flat.’

‘No, it bloody isn’t. I pay the rent!’

‘Mad bitch.’

‘Stupid bastard. I should have got rid of you months ago.’

She carried on throwing his belongings into the street.

‘I’ll kill you!’

‘Touch me again and you’re dead!’ she said.

The crowd cheered. Leonard threw his hands up in defeat, snatched the suitcase and filled it with whatever he could grab before stalking off, trying to be dignified with no shoes and no shirt.

‘And don’t come back,’ Eileen yelled after him.

She caught sight of Connie and waved. Connie waved back and laughed as Eileen gave a bow along with a flourish to the onlookers.

Indoors, Connie settled down to read the article. The body had been dragged from the lake on Tooting Common. Frank Dennis, a low-grade gangster, had done time for robbery including assault. However, the assault charge had been revoked – just as Connie’s father had said – and Frank had been released. Three months later, he had turned up dead. He might have been drunk, the paper speculated, and fallen into the lake, or he might have killed himself. Or had he been murdered? It turned out he had significant debts.

Connie folded the paper, brows drawn. Did Kenneth know that this man was dead? Her father had talked about a rift. How serious had that been? She shivered and blew on her hands. She wished her father was here now, to talk the story through.