blackbird by Gina Frisken

The Royal crowned the top of Five Ways. Detective O’Farrell, always wore a dark suit and his hat was pulled down low as he entered the pub every week. ‘Big’ Frank was keen on suppressing pub betting and the SP bookies exhaled once he left the premises.

Across the road was a meagrely supplied corner store where Heike Rabe bought what she could afford. On the opposite corner, the chemist was always willing to give advice and the folks of Goodhope Street were content that life was simple and uneventful.

And really, that was all. Unless, you include the cast iron terraces, a mere 20 feet wide, which revealed and hide the lives of working class people. Migrants of varied stock. Doors were left unlocked, children played in the streets, neighbours were not strangers. Sometimes a walk up the road and a chat solved problems.

Some men, sporting hats and ties, preferred a stroll up the hill to The Royal. But not Klaus Rabe.