I took Nigel's letter out of my bag and unfolded it.

“Demand number one. Fence the green for owners only.”

I looked out of the window at the green, where the evening sun was shining on the goalposts.

“No. The green belongs to everyone who lives here. It always will. Children will play football on it. Loudly. Before bedtime.”

At the back, Josh Carter punched the air.

“Demand number two. Higher charges for renters. No. Everyone pays the same, and from next month, every resident can see exactly where every penny goes. Owners and renters.”

“Demand number three. Owners' Parking. Those signs were never approved by Larkspur. My team will take them down on Friday.”

I turned to the last page.

“And demand number four.”

I looked at Liam, at the back, with his arm around his boys.

“The Carter family have been offered a new three-year tenancy. They've accepted. They're staying. And if anyone wants to complain about two children playing football at six o'clock in the evening, they're very welcome to write to me.”

I folded the letter.

“I'll read it,” I said. “And then I'll send them a football.”

The back of the room burst into applause. Then, slowly, some of the owners at the front joined in.