Jack laughed. ‘I’m sure he meant well. I know what he means about letting the side down, though. But we’ve made a start with the garden and once there’s a bit more cash rolling in, we can begin to tackle the other things. I think the priority has to be that roof, before the winter sets in.’

‘Don’t take too much notice of old Bill. He’s harmless enough,’ the man behind the bar said, having obviously overheard.

I was baffled. ‘Why has everyone got it in for Mrs Barley? She’s been really pleasant with us. I don’t get it.’

He shrugged. ‘Search me. I moved here in the late 1990s and it’s been a bit of a puzzle to me, too. There’ve been a few people who’ve made odd remarks about her, but no one’s really gone into the whys and wherefores. I’ve never actually asked anyone about it. You never see the old dear out and about – I don’t think she ever leaves that house any more. Even has her groceries delivered. Out of sight, out of mind.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Nowt so queer as folk, as they say. Well, she’s always been fine with us, so unless she puts a foot wrong, I won’t be taking any notice.’

‘Best policy. By the way – you were saying you need your roof doing? My mate’s a thatcher – I can give you his number if you like. He’s very reasonable and reliable. I’ve got his details in here somewhere.’ Steve sifted through the paperwork on a shelf beneath the till and produced the man’s business card. ‘Tell him Steve from The Green Man recommended him to you. He did the roof here a few months ago and did an amazing job. He might even give you a discount.’

Thanking Steve, we stepped out into the night. It was a beautifully temperate evening. The sky was clear and littered with stars, the moon high and full. Hand in hand, we walked back across the road to Wisteria Cottage. I looked up at Mrs Barley’s house, but it was already in darkness. It had turned 10.30 p.m. and I was shattered, but in a good way. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

*

I woke with a start and peered at the bedside clock; it was just after 4 a.m. There was a strange noise coming through the wall from next door. It was like an animal keening. I sat up, my senses heightened. I realised it was the sound of someone crying. Jack stirred slightly and turned over, but he was still sleeping. Once he had dropped off, he was usually out for the count until the bleep of the alarm sounded. The sleep of the guiltless.