I couldn’t admit as much to Jack, but part of me felt slightly panic-stricken at the thought of being left entirely alone with a tiny baby. Having sole responsibility for her welfare was a daunting prospect. What if something went wrong? It was a comfort to know that Mrs Barley was always willing to step in if I needed help. But I was still baffled about her claiming not to have seen anyone in the garden that day; I knew what I had seen and nothing was going to persuade me otherwise. I may have been sleep-deprived, but I felt certain I wasn’t hallucinating. Although I began to wonder if the old woman genuinely hadn’t been looking in the right direction at the right moment and had failed to see anything. It was all very odd.

The weather was cold, but bright, and I felt in need of some fresh air. After breakfast and the baby’s feed, I wrapped her up warmly and put on Jobie’s lead. He looked up at me hopefully, his tail held high.

‘Come on, let’s go for a walk, shall we?’

I looped his lead around the pram handle and we slowly made our way up the road. It was still relatively early, only 9.30. I wondered if it was too soon in the day to call on Lucy. I decided to amble for a while first and then go and knock on her door. We walked up to the shop. I thought I might take the baby to introduce her to Judy and Nick.

I left Jobie and the pram at the entrance and carefully carried the sleeping Elodie into the shop. Towards the back, near the cash machine, I noticed Lucy’s husband, Eddie. He was leaning forwards, almost leering, his hand propping up the wall, talking in hushed tones to the curvaceous waitress from The Green Man, who was pinned beneath the line of his outstretched arm. Every now and then, she emitted an irritating girly giggle. She was gazing into his eyes, a red-taloned hand stroking his shoulder. Seeing me looking over, she quickly drew back and cleared her throat.

Eddie’s head whipped round. He fixed me with a challenging stare as he promptly made his way towards the door, the blushing girl, eyes cast downwards, in his wake.

Judy looked on with folded arms from behind the counter. She glared after Eddie as the shop door closed behind him and his companion.

‘He should be ashamed of himself. And that little tart. Poor Lucy. She has a dog’s life with him. And I don’t think she’s got any idea what he gets up to. It’s the talk of the pub, you know.’