Giles smiled. ‘Yes. That was fact. But he was the only one of us with a till-death-us-do-part nickname. Poor Tubby.’

His face fell and I reached out and took his hand. ‘I’m sorry. It’s such a tragedy that he died so young.’

‘It is, it is,’ he sighed. ‘But come on. Enough about funerals. Tell me about you. How has your day been? Was Anthony a good boy?’ he asked, his face brightening at the thought.

‘He was great company,’ I said, ‘depending upon wind direction.’

‘The chews didn’t help?’

‘Afraid not. He smelled worse than ever when I picked him up from Kerry and she blamed the chews, so I haven’t let him have another. And his breath does seem to have improved during the day. Marginally,’ I added. ‘It’s all relative, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’

I looked down at Anthony, who was now once again on my lap. ‘But he is lovely.’

Giles reached across and patted his head. ‘How was Kerry? Did you get a chance to talk to her?’

‘We had a quick cup of tea,’ I said, turning towards him, ‘and I really liked her.’

‘You know, I felt sure you would. She’s just so very straightforward and no-nonsense in an enormously refreshing kind of way, don’t you think?’

‘I do. I would have liked to ask more about her, but she was too busy firing questions at me. I’m assuming she’s a single mum?’

I had been focusing on Anthony, but looked up when I felt Giles’s frame sag slightly. ‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘Kerry’s partner died in a car accident shortly after they moved into the avenue,’ said Giles quietly. ‘That was three years ago now. Harry was just two at the time.’

‘Oh no, that’s so awful, Giles,’ I said, placing a hand to my mouth. ‘When she said it was just the two of them in the house, I assumed it was a divorce, or a separation.’

‘Same,’ he said, nodding slowly. ‘I lived next door to her for many months before I realised that wasn’t the case. We had chatted over the garden wall but, of course, these details don’t tend to come up, do they? It was June across the road who told me the truth of the matter at one of the avenue wine and cheese evenings. Of course, Kerry has talked to me about it since, as we’ve become more closely acquainted.’

He sipped his drink, falling silent, whilst I thought about his over-the-wall chats and avenue wine and cheese evenings, and contrasted his home-life and neighbourhood relationships with my own. We were, I decided, worlds apart, despite being separated by just three miles of A-road.

‘But how are you?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Oh, I’m OK,’ I said, looking away and returning my attention to Anthony.

‘Are you certain of that?’ he pressed gently.