Early the following morning, I left Jack snoring in bed and crept downstairs. I sat at the little wooden table we had placed in front of the French doors, sipping my tea. Looking round the room, I started making mental interior decoration plans. It had plenty of character; I liked the old stone fireplace and beams were something I’d always loved, even though Jack had to duck beneath them. The unsightly flock wallpaper on the one wall would have to go, though; and as for the woodwork, which had bizarrely been painted in garish blue paint …

I sat up sharply as a small white van pulled up in the entry. A stockily built man, probably in his late fifties, dressed in navy-blue overalls and a flat cap, opened its doors. I watched as he unloaded a petrol lawnmower. As he wheeled it through Mrs Barley’s gate, he spotted me doing my nosy neighbour bit and grinned, lifting his headgear to reveal a shiny bald dome. Sheepishly, I gave him a wave and retreated into the living room. He was the gardener, clearly. But he definitely wasn’t the man I’d seen the previous evening. I thought for a moment and decided to go outside.

‘Morning,’ said the man, cheerfully. ‘You’ll be the new neighbour, then. Nice for the old girl to have a bit of company at last.’ His face was deeply tanned and weather-beaten, with smiling brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when he spoke. ‘I’m Bob, odd-job man extraordinaire!’ He extended a grimy hand over the fence, which I shook tentatively.

I smiled. ‘I’m Stina. Good to meet you. You make a lovely job of the garden. It’s beautiful.’

‘Aw, it’s just a matter of staying on top of it. Her old fella planted everything. Quite easy to maintain, really.’ He peered over the fence and nodded approvingly. ‘I see you’ve been hard at work. What an improvement. Those other buggers had let it go to rack and ruin. I think they were only renting, same as the ones before them. Don’t suppose it was very high on their priority list, if they were planning on moving on.’

‘No, I don’t imagine it was. Still, it belongs to us now and we’re keen to turn things round, so hopefully once we’ve got a few plants in, it’ll start to look a bit more respectable.’ I indicated the van parked in the entry. ‘Do you work alone or is there someone else who helps you?’

Bob laughed. ‘No, it’s just me. I’m a one-man band! Plenty of work to keep me ticking over, but I manage pretty well on my own. Why do you ask?’