We decided to forego the Dog and Duck and head back to Lilac Cottage instead. I bundled Elvis into the rear of the car, and he sat with his chin on the back of Sue’s seat, looking over her shoulder.

“Talk about a back-seat driver.” Sue drove away and then hurriedly pulled over as an ambulance screeched past and swerved through the cemetery gates. We moved off again. “I don’t know why we go to London when all the excitement’s right here.” She glanced at me. “You look excited, anyway.”

“I am excited.” I almost bounced in my seat. “I own a dog. I’m a dog owner.” I leaned over and ruffled Elvis’s fur, and he transferred his chin to the back of my seat and drooled on my shoulder.

“Your family always had dogs. But you never had one since you got married.”

“Jeff doesn’t like dogs, or any animals, really. Or birds, come to that. He’s always threatening the Krays.”

“Huh, those pigeons could do a lot more harm to him. I'm sure that one with the dodgy leg has an evil streak. It could murder you, dispose of the body, and never get caught.”

“I can’t explain what happened back there. It suddenly felt like I wanted a new start, a different life.”

“Well, you’ve got that right enough.”

“What did it say in that folder?”

“Elvis, a Labradoodle, two years old, neutered, got all his puppy vaccinations. That and a load of bumf about keeping a dog." We left the town behind and drove along the coast road to Dexter Bay. “Maybe there’s a health warning or advice on how not to be accidentally murdered.”

“We don’t know Elvis did that.”

Sue looked at me, and I looked at her, and we burst out laughing. The enormity of what I’d done suddenly hit me. “Oh, boy, my life has changed in three days.”

We arrived at Lilac Cottage, and Sue took Elvis’s belongings inside while I walked him around the front garden, letting him sniff his new surroundings. Then we joined Sue in the kitchen, where I unfastened the silk rope and hung it on a hook by the back door.

“Here’s Elvis’s collar.” Sue brought a purple dog collar from one of the bags. “The good vicar would like this; it’s his colour.” She fastened it around the dog’s neck, and he crossed to the door and then looked at me. “I think he wants to go out.”

I opened the door, and Elvis bounded through and galloped around the lawn. The Tesco bags sat on the table, and I began emptying them, finding dog bowls, a bag of kibble, poo bags, a squeaky fox, a squeaky teddy, an even squeakier chicken and enough tennis balls to host Wimbledon. I filled a bowl with water and set it on the floor. “You want coffee or lunch? I can do sandwiches.”

“Yeah, great.” Sue was watching out of the window. “But first, you might want to get some of those poo bags out.” She turned to me and grinned. “He’s left a deposit on your lawn.”

I joined her and looked out. “Jesus, that’s huge.”

“Well, he is a big boy.” She patted my shoulder. “You’re a responsible dog owner, now. Be brave.”

I braced myself, grabbed a poo bag and went outside. I’d filled the bag, knotted the handles, and was approaching the bin when I realised I couldn’t see Elvis anywhere. I paused and looked around. “Elvis,” I called out in a sing-song voice. “Good boy, c’mere, Elvis.”

“Good heavens!” Mr Simpkins appeared from his kitchen door, looking shaken. Then I saw Elvis careering around my neighbour’s garden with a sock in his mouth. “That dog came to my house and stole my laundry!”

My heart sank. I approached the wall and then realised I was still carrying the bag of dog poo and reversed to the bin. The bag landed inside with a thunk. “I’m sorry, Mr Simpkins,” I said. We’d never gotten around to first names and probably never would. I suspected his late wife used his full title, even in bed. “I’ll come and get him. How did he get in?”

“I opened the front door to go out, and he nearly sent me flying. Ran through the house, upset my laundry, and then came out here. That sock’s cashmere, y’know.”

The gate at the side of my house was wide open. I sighed and followed Elvis’s route to my neighbour’s cottage, where I rang Mr Simpkins’ bell, and he opened the door with Elvis behind him. The sock was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll keep my gate bolted and pay for the socks.”

“This dog is yours?” Mr Simpkins stared. “When did you get him?”

“About half an hour ago. He’s called Elvis.” I reached forward and grabbed the purple collar and then realised I should have brought a leash. My new pet and I returned home at high speed with me doubled over like Quasimodo running a marathon. We crashed through the side gate, staggered indoors, and found Sue at the kitchen table reading the article about Sea Brew. I flopped down opposite her.

“Elvis introduced himself to Mr Simpkins.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Sue closed the paper. “Nice-looking bloke, this café owner who saved your life.”

My face heated so fast you could have fried an egg on it. “Well, yes, it was all kind of a blur.”

“Mmm. You do look a bit dazed, standing there cuddling him.” Then, finally, Sue took pity on me and pointed to the coffee pot. “You make lunch, and I’ll feed the beast.”

“Okay.” In a flash, I was on my feet, making coffee and cheese salad sandwiches. Sue poured kibble into a bowl for Elvis, and he ignored it and sat and stared at our plates instead. I re-joined my friend at the table, we began eating, and I confessed I didn’t know what to do next.

“Hardly surprising - that was one hell of a shock. And Jeff’s not been in touch?”

I rechecked my phone and shook my head. “I tried calling him, but his phone goes to the answering machine then cuts off.” I took a bite of my sandwich, fed Elvis a piece of cheese, and he took it surprisingly gently for a dog with teeth like a Great White shark.

“Have you checked your bank account?”

“No. Why?”

“Jeff must have paid that big cheque in somewhere. Maybe he had an attack of conscience and transferred a share to you. Do you have a joint account?”

I nodded. “We each have our own accounts plus a joint one for bills.”

“You need to check he hasn’t cleared off and left you with nothing.”

“He wouldn’t do…he would, wouldn’t he?”

Sue nodded. “He would fleece you in a heartbeat. Think of all those customers whose accounts he messed up when he cooked the books.”

“That would be the only cooking he did in fourteen years.” This reminded me of Paul. I swallowed my last piece of sandwich, and Elvis whimpered in disappointment. He moved around to mooch from Sue, realised her plate was also empty and ambled over to his food bowl with a sigh.

I led Sue upstairs to the computer, sat warily on the temperamental chair and typed in my online banking details. “Here we go…joint account.” I shook my head. “No seven hundred and fifty grand paid in. The last thing was the electricity bill, and there’s nothing untoward.”

“I don’t suppose you can access his account?”

“I know the sort code and number, and Jeff knows mine, but we didn’t share passwords.”

“Check your account.”

Nervously, I brought up the page and entered my password. My account loaded, and I scanned the balance. “Nope.” Tears filled my eyes. “He’s got all that money, and he’s left me with nothing.”

“Oh, Marnie.” Sue gave me a hug, rocking me gently and making the chair squeak like a demented mouse. Then Elvis thundered upstairs, raced into the room and careered into me. The seat tipped over, and I slid to the floor.

“I think I’ll just stay here,” I said, lying on my back while my new dog sniffed my hair. “Seems safer.”

“If this was anyone else, I’d say he made a bad decision, and he’ll come to his senses and share the money with you.” Sue looked thoughtful. “But this is Jeff, so the chances of that happening are nil.”

“I’m definitely staying here.”

“We’ll sort this out.”

I sat up. “We need to find my husband first.”

Sue’s phone burbled from her pocket. “Oh, God, I forgot about Colin. Hello? Yes, I’m with Marnie; we’re back at hers.” She listened, then stifled a sigh. “Yeah, ‘course, give me ten minutes.” She shoved the phone back into her pocket. “His ankle’s worse. I have to go. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I struggled to my feet. “Thanks for being there this morning and helping with Elvis and everything.”

Sue gave me another hug. “You’re welcome, and don’t worry. Keep me posted; I’ll be back as soon as possible.” She blew a kiss to Elvis, scratched his ear, and we all trooped downstairs. I opened the front door, and my new dog barged past me and headed for the open gate.

“Aargh.” I leapt out and raced him there, arriving seconds before he did and slamming the gate in his face. “I need to remember and lock gates now.”

“And doors. Something tells me that dog is an escapologist.” Sue inched past and nipped through the gate while Elvis sniffed the nearest flower bed. “Maybe he’s Houdini reincarnated.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs Pearce.” Mr Simpkins appeared, as if by magic, like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn. I noticed he held a copy of the Clarion, and my heart sank. It dropped even further when he addressed me. “Well, Mrs Hope, have you had another visit from that café chappie? Paul Felix.”

“What’s this?” Sue said. “The café owner came here?”

“Yesterday afternoon.” Mr Simpkins looked at me, and Sue did the same.

I did my best impression of a tomato. “Paul brought cakes to apologise for the choking incident, and he wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“Oh, Mrs Darrow, I say.” Mr Simpkins spotted his other neighbour in her garden and hurried away to talk to her. “I have some lovely peonies coming on….”

Sue leant over the gate. “Marnie, what’s going on here?”

“What d’you mean?” I shrugged. “Nothing. Paul brought cakes, and I made him coffee.”

“Paul.” Sue studied my face. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I haven’t looked at another man in fourteen years. Well, I may have looked, but I haven’t done anything. Jeff treats me like this, and a nice man is good to me and, well, there is an attraction there. Though he’s probably way too young for me.”

“Don’t you think this will complicate matters? Your life’s already messed up.”

“I don’t see why. Jeff has done a runner with some bimbo called Nicola, so why shouldn’t I lust after someone else? Even if nothing happens. Although we nearly had a moment together in the kitchen - there’s definitely chemistry there.” I began to feel defensive and couldn’t work out why. “What’s the matter?”

“Have you read the article?”

“I’m beginning to regret agreeing to that. The whole village will be pointing and staring.”

Sue opened her mouth to speak, and her phone rang again. “Colin, I’m just…what? Oh, right, okay.” She looked at me. “I really have to go. Take care of yourself, and don’t do anything rash.”

Sue drove off, and I stood at the gate, feeling lost and uncertain, with no idea what move to make or how to find my husband. And then I looked at Elvis, and he seemed to grin at me before charging into the house at breakneck speed. When I entered the kitchen, he was licking his empty food dish.

“That’s a bit awkward for a big dog like you.” I fetched an old wooden stool, draped a waterproof cloth over it and set Elvis’s dishes on the top. “There you go, now you don’t need to bend.”

Great. Now you’re talking to pigeons and a dog.