‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Cos he’s just taken a breather to feed me a load of…’ She hesitated, looked down at Harry and took a deep breath. ‘He’s just been telling me that it was all his idea that Harry should help himself to biscuits. Apparently, Harry had nothing to do with it.’

Harry’s head, already hanging, drooped a little lower. Giles, meanwhile, looked up at the cloudless sky. ‘You’ve got to admit that it is a lovely day for a biscuit, though, Kerry,’ he said.

She looked at him for a moment and then laughingly shook her head. ‘I dunno, Giles,’ she sighed, looking down and ruffling Harry’s hair. ‘Harry, what do you say to Giles for asking to go into his house before you’re invited? And for asking for biscuits before they’re offered?’

‘Sorry,’ murmured Harry, reaching into the pockets of his swim-shorts and removing two large handfuls of crumbs. He held them out towards Giles. ‘Here.’

‘Give me strength,’ muttered Kerry, before continuing more loudly, ‘Giles can’t eat those now, can he? He’d need a spoon. Go and scatter them in the front garden for the birds and then wash your hands. But you’re not to ask for biscuits again, Harry Baker. Wait to be offered.’

He nodded up at her and then walked slowly away, a perfect picture of penitence as he scattered his fistfuls of crumbs, like ashes after a cremation, and disappeared into the house.

Kerry watched him go and then rolled her eyes. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘One minute he was playing in the lounge, the next he was gone.’ She looked towards her open front door. ‘I’m gonna have to have a serious chat with him.’

‘He’s just curious,’ said Giles.

‘That’s one word for it,’ she said, glancing across the road. ‘Oh look, here comes June.’

I turned to look as the sea-green front door of the house directly opposite opened and a small, slightly stooped, elderly woman emerged. Despite the warmth of the day, she was wearing a beige trench coat and light-brown hat, and was wrestling a blue tartan shopping trolley down the single step onto her garden path.

‘You all right there, June?’ called Kerry. ‘Need a hand?’

June looked up, apparently confused for a moment before spotting Kerry. ‘Oh, there you are!’ she said, smiling broadly and waving. ‘Didn’t see you at first in between that white van and your little red car.’

She made her way to the edge of the pavement, looking both ways to check the road for traffic. ‘Be careful, June, because they race down here,’ she said, stepping out and walking towards us. ‘That’s it. Carefully does it.’

Kerry gave me a sidelong glance. ‘June has a tendency to think aloud,’ she explained quietly, her mouth barely moving, ‘a lot.’