“Morning. Got a visitor?” said Tony. Tony lived next door. It was Tuesday – bin day – and we’d both met up as we often did, each trundling his dustbin down to the pick-up point on the verge. “Visitor? What visitor?” I said. He looked confused. He chuckled and frowned. “The man I keep seeing in your garden,” he said. “The other day, he was mowing the lawn.” I pulled a puzzled face. “A bloke about your age? He’s got...
