It was old and pre-loved with a tangle of rose bushes crowding for space along the front fence and a sagging front verandah that needed some serious repair work. Kaz unlocked the door and they went in. It was like a little granny cottage with a passage straight down the middle and rooms to either side. ‘I hope you like cats,’ she said, as a grey Persian-cross stalked majestically up to Larceny and started winding himself around her legs. ‘I love cats. And dogs.’ ‘Good. This is Sir Tom. And you have to meet Rueben the Rotty,’ Kaz said, leading the way down a short passage to the back door, opening it, and letting in this huge slobbering rottweiler. ‘Won’t he eat the cat?’ ‘No. They were brought up together. Fur brothers. Now, I’ll show you your bedroom.’ It was a tiny room at the back of the house with a single bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and a wooden chair with spindly legs. The bed was covered in a bright blue doona, with pink and green scatter cushions thrown haphazardly across it.
