A shot rang out and something went clattering off the roof of the house. I was sitting on the terrace and immediately took cover behind one of the side walls.

‘Is someone shooting at us?’ I asked our friend Jenny who was busy painting a gate.

‘Well, it hit the roof.’

The locals do hunt woodcock but surely not this late in the season.

‘Perhaps they’re after rabbits,’ I said.

‘On the roof?”

It was disturbing. Firstly it’s a fact that we have an enemy in the area. Secondly we had attended his mother’s funeral the day before and while his brothers had agreed we would go to show our respects, this other brother refused to shake hands as we made our condolences to the family. Was this shot a reflection of his anger?

Soon another bang was heard. Perhaps it was merely hunters on the hillside behind us. This was reassuring though the doubt remained.

I can’t see any end to his animosity and that worries me.