There was still no answer. He walked a little further from the house and turned to look at it. The giant picture windows stared back challengingly. Keith tried to stare them down and failed. “Aw fuck it” he muttered and walked back to the gate.
Banjo had stopped barking when he saw his new playmate and he stood expectantly by the gate. Keith stuck a hand through the bars to try and catch hold of Banjo’s collar but the dog skipped away. As soon as Keith started to unhook to gate Banjo ran back. Timing was going to be everything – the last thing he wanted to do was let the dog out.
A small voice at the back of his head was urging him to reconsider. Perhaps she’d just nipped out and would come back and demand to know what the milkman was doing with his hand stuck through the doorflap. Leave it to the professionals the voice said. Call the police and get them to deal with it. But he knew that failure to put the milk bottles out did not constitute enough evidence that a crime or accident had occurred.