‘But she was on the church committee at the Holy Trinity, and had — well, still has, apparently — some close friends there. That doesn’t even sound like the same woman, does it?’ asked Kevin.

She shrugged. ‘I reckon all those good works were a cover for her infidelity. Either that or a guilty conscience. What I do know is that our Nan hated her. None of us dared even mention Andi’s name in her hearing. She knew her from somewhere else, but I have no idea where. Andi only lived here for around eighteen months, then one day she was gone. Nan was practically dancing in the street!’

‘But she never said why she hated her?’ asked Kevin.

‘Never. All she would say was that Andi was a wicked woman and she prayed that the good Lord would see fit to cast her into the fires of hell.’

‘Blimey,’ said Gary. ‘So much for Christian forgiveness! I wonder what caused it?’

Lizzie shook her head sadly. ‘I guess no one will ever know now.’

Kevin wasn’t so sure about that. ‘Did Nan ever mention a boy she was especially fond of, Lizzie? He would have been around ten.’

‘Not directly, but I know there had been a child somewhere in her life. Not a grandchild though. We know all about them.’ Lizzie looked pensive. ‘It was just little comments she made, and then she got so emotional that I never liked to press her. I once showed her some school photos of our Tommy, and she looked at one and said, “Oh, what an angel. He looks so like my—” Then she flustered on about something else. That happened several times over the years. So yes, I’d say there had been a boy that was special to her.’

‘But no one ever visited her with a little lad?’ said Gary.

‘Never. Most of her visitors were people from the church. Oh, and old Mrs Cooke. Now, if our Nan opened up to anyone, it would have been her. She and Avril Cooke go back years.’

‘Where can we find her?’ Kevin asked. This Avril sounded promising.

‘Cedar Lodge. Warden-controlled flatlets in Doncaster Street. Ask anyone for Avril and they’ll point you to her. She’s in her nineties and fit as a flea. She has one of those mobility scooters, and every Thursday afternoon she used to hare around here for tea with our Nan. Regular as clockwork, she was. Even in the rain. She had one of those plastic covers, looked dead funny.’ Her smile faded. ‘Oh dear. She’s going to miss our Nan something rotten.’

‘Before we go, Lizzie,’ Kevin said, ‘did you know, or suspect, who Andrea was having an affair with?’

She stared into her tea. ‘Look. It was just gossip, so please don’t tell anyone what I said.’

Kevin smiled at her. ‘This is all off the record, Lizzie. Just a chat. Your name won’t come into it.’