The house on Spinner’s End was at the very end of an identical row of houses, and it was almost dilapidated. Two shutters hung off at odd angles, and there was a broken upper window, giving the overall effect of a punched, bruised face with missing teeth. The hedges had grown wildly, much taller than the neighbours, who somewhat petulantly had trimmed theirs extremely neatly and stopped short at the property line. 