Eric’s wife and son waited apprehensively on the kitchen doorstep.

‘Has this little toerag been telling porkies again?’ growled Lizzie.

‘No, love. There was someone there all right, but he slipped away before I could get to him. I reckon I scared the bugger though.’ Eric sat down heavily on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. ‘Hope I didn’t wake our Nan up, I was yelling like some crazy, but she didn’t put a light on.’

‘She takes her hearing aids out at night and has that herbal stuff to make her sleep. I wouldn’t mind going over to make sure she’s okay, but I don’t want to frighten her.’ They kept a spare key for emergencies, but it seemed silly to scare the old biddy now it was all over. At least she wasn’t too forgetful and always locked up at night. Lizzie smiled at her husband. ‘Well done, our hero. You could have saved our Nan from having all her precious treasures nicked.’

‘Maybe we shouldn’t tell her about this, Lizzie. Like you said, we don’t want to scare her. But I’ll give the Old Bill a tinkle, just in case he hits someone else’s house tonight. They’ll most likely do sod all, but at least we’ll have done our bit.’

Lizzie agreed. ‘Now, bed for you, our Tommy, and no more stargazing tonight. You’ve seen quite enough for one evening.’ She rumpled his hair. ‘And good boy for spotting that prowler. Well done.’

* * *

Nan Cutler awoke groggily from a deep sleep. She’d taken her water tablets too late again and now she needed the toilet. ‘You’d think I’d learn at my age,’ she muttered to herself. She sighed and pushed back her duvet.

She didn’t put the light on, it was far too bright for her old eyes, and she certainly knew the way by now. She left the room and padded across the landing to the bathroom, idly noticing that Eric had forgotten to turn off his outside light. Not that she minded, a little light in the darkness was no bad thing.

She used the toilet and slowly made her way back to bed. She’d never really believed in herbal sleep remedies, but these ones certainly worked. She was grateful — since her husband died all those years ago, sleep had eluded her.

About to pass the top of the stairs, she came to a sudden standstill.

Standing at the bottom, staring up at her, was a tall, dark figure.

Nan blinked, still half asleep. ‘Henry? Is that you?’ A trickle of light from a streetlamp seeped through the glass in the front door and lit him up. Yes, there he was. Her Henry.

‘My darling! You’ve come back to me! Oh, my darling!’

Nan moved forward, missed the top step and pitched forward, into the waiting arms of her beloved husband.

* * *

Not another one. Every day this week. PC Simon Laker was starting to think he’d been jinxed.