Nula was made up with her new house. She had a whale of a time decorating the place – not that she ever lifted a finger herself, of course. There were kitchen designers and architects and painters and decorators and plumbers all swarming around for months on end, refurbing the place to her exact specifications.

Nula no longer saw her drab parents or her overbearing brother, and in a way that suited her. She’d never been close to her dad and brother, but she did miss Mum. However, she realized that her poorly raised but very sweet mother was a bad fit for this progressive new life of hers. Painful as it was, she was going to have to cut the cord, slice through the ties binding her to that unsatisfactory past, so that she could fully enjoy the new. Yes, they’d all three come to her and Charlie’s wedding – Nula had invited them because it would have looked odd if she hadn’t – but there the association had ended.

These days Nula was in a different league. She’d found her Mr Right, or Mr Almost Right, anyway. Charlie was a bombastic noisy bastard, and he was plain exasperating most of the time, but he sure knew how to treat a girl.

Now it was party time! Nula became the go-to hostess for all the crims and their ladies. Terry and Jill, down there in the gatehouse at the bottom of the drive, never came to these shindigs.

Nula loved the fact that Jill’s place was so old compared to hers. They even had bats up in the loft of the gatehouse, which caused Nula no end of amusement. Jill might have the prize in the shape of Terry, but she didn’t have the grand house to live in, only a bat-infested ruin. Oh, Terry had summoned the decorators to pretty the place up, and he’d complained to the council about the vermin, but the council weren’t interested.

‘Up in the loft it stinks to high heaven. Like ammonia, you know?’ Terry told Charlie. ‘The droppings.’

‘Clear ’em out then,’ said Charlie.

‘I been told they’re pipistrelles.’

‘Fuck that. They’re vermin,’ said Charlie. ‘Just get rid.’

But Terry didn’t. Actually, he didn’t mind the bats like Jill did. He liked to stand out in the garden at night, watching them ducking and diving against the starlit sky.