‘IF IT doesn’t stop raining soon I’ll brain someone.’ Amy put her nose against the window and groaned. Outside it was raining so hard she could barely see waves breaking on the shoreline fifty yards away.

‘Great idea. Brain Mrs Craddock first.’ Kitty, Amy’s receptionist, was entirely sympathetic. ‘If I hear “Silver Threads” one more time I’ll do the deed myself.’

It was too late. From the sitting room came the sound of the piano, badly played, and Mrs Craddock’s warbling old voice drowned out the television.

‘Darling, we are getting old,

Silver threads among the gold…’

Murder was looking distinctly appealing, Amy decided. ‘Can you taste arsenic in cocoa?’ she muttered. ‘And just what are the grounds for justifiable homicide?’

‘Whatever they are, it can’t be more justifiable than this. A week of rain and this lot…’

It was the limit. Nothing ever happened in Iluka, and this week even less than nothing was happening. The locals jokingly called Iluka God’s Waiting Room and at times like this Amy could only agree.

It did have some things going for it. Iluka was a beautiful seaside promontory with a climate that was second to none-apart from this week, of course, when the heavens were threatening another Great Flood. It had two golf courses, three bowling greens, magnificent beaches and wonderful walking trails.

On the cliff out of town was Millionaire’s Row-a strip of outlandishly expensive real estate. At the height of summer the town buzzed with ostentatious wealth.

But the rest of the time it didn’t buzz at all. Iluka was a retiree’s dream. The average age of Iluka’s residents seemed about ninety, and when the rain set in there was nothing to do at all.

Nothing, nothing and nothing.