The affluent suburb of Malahide, perched on the coast overlooking the Irish Sea in County Dublin, Ireland, is a suburban location where property values are monstrously high and human morals are sometimes questionable.

Money is not a problem for the nouveau riche that aspire to live there but, as my late father used to say, “You’re born with taste and class, son. It can’t be bought, borrowed, learned, or stolen. It’s innate.”

I’m Tony Harris, a junior draughtsman with the firm of James Cadden Architecture in Dublin City centre. I’m the general dogsbody of the firm, but I get to spend half of the week out on site, either monitoring progress and standards or performing preliminary survey works and collating data at preconstruction stage on new contracts.

My work for this particular Monday morning, was to get a preliminary survey recorded at a site adjacent to a large house with panoramic sea views in Malahide. I arrived bang on time and pressed the intercom button to announce my arrival. The electric gates swung open, and I drove slowly through them. I parked close to where I would be working, possibly 40 metres from the house, and I thought I’d better introduce myself to the lady of the house as a matter of courtesy. I knocked on the door as I didn’t see a doorbell push, and it was opened by a tall, well dressed, fair haired, lady.

“Good morning Mrs. James,” I said. “My name is Anthony Harris, James Cadden sent me out to stake out your field for the new building. I won’t disturb you, I just wanted to let you know who was walking around your property.”