He studied me for a moment. ‘Just “okay” then? You don’t sound very enthused.’

‘No, she was nice enough, I suppose. It’s just that – well, I thought she was a bit off about Mrs Barley.’

‘Why?’

‘Just a bit gossipy – she reckons that people round here think Mrs Barley and Frank weren’t actually married. Not that it should matter to anyone. And – I don’t know, the way she spoke about the old lady seemed disrespectful, that’s all. There was that annoying woman at the May Day fete not long after we arrived, too …’

‘What woman?’

I hesitated. ‘Oh, just one of those New Age oddballs on a stall, she made some derogatory comment about her.’ I neglected to mention the woman’s impressions of me.

‘Oh, right. One of those.’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘I can see what Bob was on about, though. He said some people don’t like her; God knows why. Ignore me – I’m probably overly touchy at the moment, what with the baby and everything.’

I suddenly remembered about the man. With Jack being so upset, it had almost slipped my mind. ‘That bloke showed up again this morning – in next door’s garden. He’d cleared off before I could collar him.’

He put down his fajita, his face suddenly serious. ‘Did you mention it to Mrs Barley?’

‘No. It sounded as though she was pretty dismissive when you spoke to her so I didn’t want to say anything. She might think I’m paranoid – or it might start to worry her, living on her own. I am a bit rattled by it though, to be honest. I don’t like to think that there’s a random weirdo wandering round the neighbourhood. I wish Mrs Barley would get a lock fitted on her gate. Even if ours isn’t left open, he looks able-bodied enough to hop over the fence if he had a mind to.’

‘I’m sure Jobie would see him off if he did. But if he turns up again, ring the police. And keep that bloody door locked – I’d made sure it was before I left the house this morning, I always do.’

‘So, you’ve been worried too, then?’

‘Look, I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation, but when you’re on your own I do worry a bit. You’re very precious to me, you know. And after all, who’d walk the poor dog if someone kidnapped you?’ He pushed his tongue firmly into his cheek.

I pretended to kick him under the table.

‘You bugger! I’ll remember that. And thanks for the kidnapping suggestion – that one hadn’t even crossed my mind until now. As for Jobie, he’d probably lick him to death. I’ve never met such a soppy dog.’