Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling!" Mrs Sara Moss was singing when Lisa went to her house on an October morning to tidy up the garden.
"Tidy up" was the exact phrase Mrs Moss had used when she'd phoned, but it wasn't an accurate description. The privet hedge had been taken over by ivy, the grass was knee deep, the flower beds were lavish with weeds, and brambles were strangling the roses.
Lisa rang the doorbell and the singing stopped.
"I'm coming!" came a cheerful call.
Mrs Moss was in her eighties, wearing a lively dazzle of colours: a pink skirt, a red cardigan, and a purple silk scarf tied round her neck, as bright as a fuchsia. She was leaning on a white stick.
"Good afternoon, I'm Lisa Green from Green Fingers."
"Yes, I was expecting you," Mrs Moss said brightly. "Come on in, I've made a pot of tea before you get started. I've just heard on the radio that the King's coronation is going to be held on the sixth of May. Isn't that exciting?"
"Sure," Lisa said, noncommittally.
The truth was, she hadn't given the King's coronation much thought one way or the other.
"Go on in and take a seat in the parlour, I'll be with you in two shakes of a cat's tail. Milk and sugar?"
In the parlour, the weak autumn sunshine lit up a row of coronation mugs in pride of place on the mantelpiece, and the gilt decoration framed the young Queen Elizabeth's face in a golden glow. Lisa sank comfortably into the feather cushions, and Mrs Moss came in with her white stick dangling from a strap on her wrist, carrying two mugs of tea. "Now, I expect you're looking at my Coronation souvenirs," she said proudly.
"Yes, I am. They're, em... very eye-catching, aren't they...?"
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