My neighbour stripped every apple from my late husband’s trees the day we buried him. By morning I’d laid something across her front lawn — and she screamed so loudly the whole street came out.

I passed Pip to Rory, very carefully, and walked round the side of the house.

And I stopped.

Our neighbour, Glenys Pryor, was halfway over the fence.

Her flowery blouse was caught on a nail at the shoulder.

And beside her feet on my side of the fence were two enormous bags — the heavy woven kind you get from a garden centre — both of them full of my husband’s apples and pears.

I said: what are you doing?

She looked at me as though I had walked in on something perfectly ordinary. Hanging out washing. Putting a bin out.

She said: don’t be selfish, Delyth.

She pointed at the bags. She said: I’m going to sell them. I need the money.

I said: you could have asked.

She shrugged. She said: would you have said yes?

I said: no.

I said: my children eat that fruit. Their father planted those trees and looked after them every day for eleven years.

And she rolled her eyes and said:

Well, he’s not here any more, is he?

For a second I could not say anything at all. I think I actually swayed.

Then she said: most of it would only rot anyway.

Behind me, Rory was still holding his dad’s cap and his little sister.

I saw his fingers go tight on the peak of that cap. White at the knuckles.

That was enough.

I stepped between him and her.

I said: those trees are not yours.

And she gave me an irritated look and said: and this property isn’t yours either.

I did not understand that one and I did not stop to. I pointed at the fence.

I said: leave the fruit. Get out of my garden. And don’t come back.

She scoffed. She said: grief’s made you unreasonable.

I did not argue. I just pointed again.

Go.

In the end she climbed back over, muttering, and left the two bags where they were, and I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

PART 2

Before it was light the next morning, Rory came into my room and shook my shoulder.

He said: Mum. Mum.

I opened my eyes.

He said: I heard something outside. A really loud noise. Like something falling over.

He looked frightened, and he had his dad’s cap on, and it came down over his ears.

I kissed his forehead and put my dressing gown on and went downstairs.