That afternoon, she called a local handyman whose number she’d found on a card in the post office window. He arrived with a canvas bag of tools and an easy smile, boots leaving faint prints on the hallway tiles. “Old houses just like to creak and complain a lot,” he said, tapping the wall appreciatively.
Lucy explained the tapping as calmly as she could, careful not to sound frantic. He listened with his ear pressed to the plaster, then knocked along the skirting board. “Could be rodents,” he said. “Or birds in the eaves. They find gaps in these places, use the wall cavities like corridors.”