‘More?’

‘I couldn’t eat another thing, Philbs. My goodness, you make a good supper!’

Pauline Philbey surveyed the scene. Despite serving Harry Riddles with double helpings and matching him for food intake, there was plenty left over. Some of the meal could be saved for later; the rest would either end up in Boris’s dish or be thrown into the recycling.

‘Coffee?’

‘That would go down very nicely.’

‘What is it Harry?’ Pauline Philbey saw the sudden change in her guest.

‘I could swear I saw something – someone – moving in the garden just now.’

‘You’re imagining things, Harry! That note was designed to scare you – us – nothing more. You’re just on edge.&rsq...

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