He lifted his eyebrows. ‘You know me – I sleep like the dead. What was it?’

‘It sounded like there was stuff being lugged about up in the attic – made a right din, all the to-ing and fro-ing. I’m assuming it must have been Mrs Barley, but it makes no sense. All I can think is that, after what Kenny said, she’s taken it into her head to start going through all her things before he starts work on her side of the roof properly.’

Jacked looked doubtful. ‘In the middle of the night?’

‘Exactly. Why the hell would you do it under cover of darkness? I’m ever so slightly pissed off that it’s cost me a night’s sleep.’

‘Maybe she’s an insomniac.’ He shovelled more cereal into his mouth, then considered for a moment. ‘I’d imagine it would be tricky for her to get up there, knowing what the access is probably like. She’s not exactly a spring chicken and you’d have to be pretty flexible to get through the hatch if it’s anything like ours. I think people must’ve been a lot smaller when these houses were built.’

‘Maybe she’s more able-bodied than she’s letting on. Maybe … Oh, Christ knows. It’s bizarre. All I know is I’ve had a better night’s sleep with a wild party going on next door in the past. You don’t expect it from an elderly woman.’

I slumped in the chair next to him and poured myself a cup of tea.

Jack stroked my hair. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed? You look wrecked.’

‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep, with the work going on. I may just put my feet up on the settee for a bit, see if I can nod off. I think I’ll have a tactful word with her later, though. I may need to invest in some earplugs if she’s planning any more nocturnal activities.’

*

Jobie at my side, I waved Jack off, just in time to see Kenny and the boys pulling up in their truck.

‘All right,’ he called cheerfully, alighting on the pavement. ‘Oh my days, you’re not looking so well this morning. Bad night?’

I grimaced. ‘However did you guess?’

Mrs Barley appeared suddenly at her front door. She always had her milk delivered and bent down stiffly to lift the new bottle from the step. She was looking remarkably fresh, considering she must have had virtually no sleep.

‘Good morning, love,’ she breezed. ‘Another nice day for the lads to get on with the job.’

I paused. Should I broach the subject now? Yes, never mind that, Mrs Barley, I’d like to know what the bloody hell you were doing rummaging around in your attic all night …

‘Mrs Barley, I was wondering …’