I texted Lucy to check if it was okay to pay her a visit. I was conscious that I hadn’t seen her baby yet and thought it might be nice to see her and Alfie again. I felt a little deflated by her response.

‘Bit busy just now. Could we do it another day?’

Given Eddie’s reaction when I had gone round to the house, I began to wonder if she wasn’t that keen to be friends after all. I decided not to push it; if she wanted to see me, she knew where I was. Besides, it wasn’t as if we had been bosom buddies or anything.

In spite of our occasional differences of opinion, I was growing more accepting of Mrs Barley and her quirky ways. However eccentric she might be, as I got to know her better, I was beginning to find it hard to believe that she was capable of killing cats or putting hexes on people, or whatever it was the locals suspected her of doing. I had come to the conclusion that she had been badly affected by the loss of Frank, and this, coupled with spending so much time alone, had made her turn to her somewhat unorthodox pastimes and beliefs. If it gave her comfort, where was the harm? I knew too that it was just in some people’s nature to be suspicious of anyone who didn’t conform to what was considered the norm, and that tenuous rumours and spiteful gossip spread like knotweed through small communities.

Nobody ever visited the old lady and it made me feel bad to think how lonely she must be since losing her beloved Frank so long ago, and of the shoddy treatment she’d received at the hands of the community.

She was eager to assist me as my pregnancy progressed, helping with chores, and regularly presenting us with home-made goodies, often even a lasagne or cottage pie. I was grateful, since my increasing size seemed to have drained my energy resources, and it was nice for Jack to have a proper meal waiting for him after working all day.

She would often appear at our door, brandishing a cake or a tart that she had baked. I suppose some people might have found it intrusive, but being alone much of the time myself, I was usually pleased to have the company. Though initially reticent, over time, she gradually opened up to me, talking at length about Frank and their years together. I learned that they had moved to Avoncote as newly-weds, from Dorset, from where they both hailed originally.