‘If nothing else, this’ – Jo flutters the paper in the air again – ‘will at the very least ensure your neighbours get to have a good look inside your house.’

‘What? I hope not! Surely they won’t be interested? None of their houses are on the market – the Sampsons from next door have already sold up and moved out. The house is empty.’

‘But now they’re invited.’ Jo laughs.

‘What are you talking about?’ I stand up and launch forwards, grabbing the paper from Jo’s hand. ‘What the hell …’

There, in capitals, are the words: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME ON IN.

‘I like the added touch of “apologies for the likely increase of cars in the road”, as if he’s expecting droves of people to attend. Talk about bigging up your house,’ Jo says. Then she must clock my horrified expression and adds, ‘At least he’s trying to hype it up a bit, create a buzz?’

‘Oh, God.’ I slump back onto the sofa. ‘Why invite the bloody neighbours? It makes zero sense. What a waste of time.’

‘I suppose they might tell others about it. Word of mouth can be a good form of advertising.’

‘Really? You and I know all that’ll happen is people will come for a nose about and nothing more.’ Then the thought hits me. ‘Fantastic.’ I fling my arms up. ‘What a great opportunity for Davina to finally get inside my home!’

Jo tries and fails to hide a snigger. ‘Bless her. You’d best lock away anything you don’t want her to see.’

‘It’s not funny, Jo. The nosy bag has been desperate to come in for years. She’ll jump at the chance to walk around my bedroom, see if she can deduce if I’ve had another bloke here since Nick.’

‘Yes, she will be in her element. Remember when me and Keeley moved here? She was particularly keen to find out all about us and kept stopping one or other of us to ask how we were “fitting in”? I don’t think she knew many lesbians … We were the only gays in the village.’

I shake my head, but can’t help smiling at Jo’s joke and the memory. ‘Maybe I should cancel it, tell Carl it’s a bad idea.’

‘Don’t be daft, Amber. Any buyer coming into your home is already an invasion of your privacy, a few more people won’t hurt – even if one of them is Davina.’

I groan. The thought of her poking around, touching my things is enough to make my skin prickle.

‘Maybe I’ll set my phone up to record. Then I can see who’s coming in and out and if they touch my stuff.’

‘Yep. That’s not paranoid behaviour at all.’

‘Well. What would you do?’