‘She noticed things,’ said Farrell, ‘and she believed in getting involved. Those kids from the flats, they go around late at night kicking bins over and breaking windows and jostling people in the street. Other people ignored it but she used to say things to them and she rang the police about them. Not that they did anything. But those kids knew she wasn’t someone who would just let something go. So they did something about it.’

‘I hope the police find who did it,’ I said.

‘They’ve given up,’ he said. ‘I keep phoning up and they say the investigation is proceeding. But when did you last see a policeman down here?’

I didn’t answer because I thought it would only confuse matters.

‘Look at that kid,’ said Farrell. ‘He’s pocketing that radio. I’m not going to let him get away with it.’ I clutched at his sleeve to stop him.

‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘He’ll get it home and then he’ll discover it doesn’t work. That’ll be punishment enough.’

Farrell looked at me awkwardly. He was clearly about to go. ‘If you ever want to pop round for a cup of tea,’ he said, ‘you know, to talk about things, I’m usually in in the evenings. And at weekends. Before you move away.’

‘That would be lovely,’ I said.

‘Biscuits as well,’ he said.

‘Great.’

He moved away. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he said, and I watched him edge his way through the crowd and walk alone along the pavement.

Suddenly I wanted to get away from the bustle and the noise, so I went back into the house, where I met Leah in the hallway outside Miles’s bedroom.

‘I didn’t know you were here,’ I said.

‘I just got in,’ she said. ‘That’s a squalid little scene out there.’

‘I think it’s quite fun,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t believe the things people have bought.’

She frowned. ‘Oh, by the way, Astrid, Miles brought a bag of my clothes over this morning. Have you seen them?’

Chapter Seventeen

I contemplated making a dash for it, but Leah was standing in my way and to get past her I would have to knock her over.

‘I don’t know anything about a bag,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been here, you see. Hardly at all. Can I come by now?’

She shrugged and stood aside, and I charged past her. As I got to my room, I heard her clipping across the hall and opening the front door. I sat on my bed and picked up my new blouse, pressing my face into its softness. It had a familiar, expensive smell. I sighed and waited for the hubbub to begin.

It wasn’t long. First there was a shout, ‘Hey!’ in a voice I didn’t recognize, then a truly ear-splitting shriek of rage.

I stood up, laying my shirt carefully on the pillow.

Then lots of voices shouting, I couldn’t make out the words, followed by a crash and more screaming.

Very slowly I went down the stairs. The front door was wide open and through it I could see a wild scene taking place. Both tables seemed to have been pushed over, and the objects that had been on them were scattered across the front garden and even on the pavement. Youths were rummaging through everything in a kind of frenzy and more people were pouring in through the gate. As I looked, a very large woman, wearing tatty jeans, an old sweater and over it a glorious orange silk shirt that was several sizes too small, rushed past. There was a further yelp. I thought I recognized Pippa’s voice, but she was out of sight. Somebody was laughing and clapping.

Perhaps, I thought, I could go back into the house without being seen, creep downstairs into the basement, from there get into the garden, then sneak up the alley and be away. But even as I was thinking this, I was stepping outside and gazing at the wreckage that lay before me. The boys from the estate were picking up as much of the debris as they could hold and as I watched two started having a tug of war over the old lampstand. A group of girls were parading around with lacy knickers – Leah’s, I assumed – on their heads, taking photos of each other with their mobile phones. Leah was in the corner, wrestling with the large woman whose orange shirt was now ripped from armpit to hem. Davy was with them, hopping from one foot to the other and occasionally trying to pull them apart, but although he’s fairly strong, their rage was stronger and he didn’t stand a chance. A few residents of the street stood in a bewildered huddle, some clutching bright garments, and stared at the mayhem, while out on the pavement a crowd was gathering. A boy hurtled past me, holding the lampstand, followed by his rival.

I turned to Leah, who now had the remnants of her shirt in her hands and was striding towards a small group of bewildered middle-aged women standing near the side alley. ‘Hand them over,’ she said.

They looked at her as though she was mad and backed away. ‘My clothes,’ said Leah.

‘We bought them,’ said one, nervously.

‘Yes, proper money,’ said another. ‘This cost me five pounds.’ And she held up a military-style jacket with a red lining.

I felt a nudge as Davy arrived at my side. He was panting and there was a scratch on his cheek. I tucked my arm through his. ‘How did this happen? No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. Pippa and Dario.’

He didn’t reply.

‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to say. Let’s try and sort this mess out.’

I walked over to Leah and the women, stepping over a boy who was scrabbling on the ground for scattered bits of jewellery. I tried to adopt an official tone. ‘I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding, and those clothes you have aren’t for sale.’

‘We bought them.’

‘It was a mistake. You’ll get your money back.’

‘I don’t want it back.’

‘That’s right.’

Leah made a strangled noise beside me. I could feel the heat rising off her.

‘Just return the clothes, we’ll return your money. Simple.’

‘What about the others who’ve already left with theirs?’

‘I’ll get the money,’ I said. ‘Five pounds for each item, right?’

Again, Leah gave a whimper of rage.

‘Where’s the money, then? Davy?’

‘What?’

‘All the money, where is it?’

‘Money?’

‘The takings,’ I said, as patiently as I could.

‘It was in a box,’ he said, looking around desperately. ‘On the table.’

‘Right.’

‘And then… you know.’

‘Right.’ The front garden was littered with rubbish and people. There was still an audience on the pavement and among them, Owen was clicking away as if he was in a war zone. His camera was like a talisman, shielding him from any involvement in the disaster. I looked back at the house and saw three faces gazing out of a second-floor window: Dario, Pippa and Mick.

‘So we’ve sold off the contents of the house,’ I said, ‘and Leah’s wardrobe. And the money’s gone.’

‘It looks like it,’ said Davy.

‘Do you think it’s funny?’

‘No.’ He gave a little snort and I felt my own lips curl.

‘Are you laughing?’ screamed Leah, into my face.

‘Of course not,’ I managed.

I thought she was going to fly at me, the only person she could get her hands on.

‘You fucking are! You sell off my clothes and then giggle like a spiteful little schoolgirl! How would you feel if it had happened to you?’

‘It has,’ I said.

‘What?’ asked Davy.

‘My bike. I left it leaning against the house. It’s gone.’

Davy went over to the wall as if it would magically reappear if he gazed hard enough at the spot.

‘I’ve spent years putting that bike together.’

The conspirators – Dario, Pippa and Mick – were advancing towards us, wearing the same expression of innocent surprise, which didn’t suit Dario’s swollen face.

‘We were inside having a bit of a rest,’ said Dario, ‘and we heard all the noise.’

Behind us, the women dissolved away and a few seconds later I saw them jogging down the road, still clutching Leah’s gorgeous clothes.

‘Some of Leah’s clothes have been sold,’ said Davy.