‘I refuse to wait because of a frog. And as for helping…’

Angela reacted then. Molly was hauling furniture as if her life depended on it but Angela rose and put her hands on her hips. In the weeks Molly had worked for the agency she and Angela had become fast friends, and Angela would defend her friend to the death. ‘Do you know who Sam is?’ she demanded.

‘Of course I don’t, girl. Why should I?’

‘Do you remember that awful accident about six months back?’ Angela demanded. ‘A truck came off the overpass and there were people in the car below. The adults were killed outright but there was a little boy trapped for hours.’

The woman’s jaw dropped in horrified memory. ‘Was that Sam?’

‘Yes. And he’s Molly’s nephew.’

‘Oh, no.’

‘And now we’ve lost his frog.’

There was deathly silence. The three cleaners and Sophia all let the enormity of this sink in, and then cleaners, landlady, Molly and Angela-everybody started searching.

Unaware of the drama being played out in his outer office, Trevor Farr was growing more flustered by the minute.

At first he’d been delighted. He hadn’t been able to believe his luck. Hannah Copeland had telephoned this morning and her call had stunned him.

‘I’ve heard Jackson Baird is thinking of buying a property on the coast. There aren’t many people I’d consider selling Birraginbil to, but Jackson may be one of them. My father used to deal with your grandfather, I believe-so you may contact Mr Baird on my behalf and if he’s interested then I’ll sell. That is, if you want the commission?’

If he wanted the commission? Birraginbil… Such a sale would set him up for life, Trevor had thought, dazed, and he’d made a phone call to Jackson’s lawyer at once. He still hardly believed it, but now here was Jackson Baird in person, dressed for business in an Italian suit that screamed expensive, his eagle eyes cool and calculating, and waiting with polite patience for details.