The Holiday Home. Fern Britton

there?’ asked Connie.

      ‘There are some staddle stones for sale. Supposed to have come from Daphne du Maurier’s house in Ready Money Cove. They’d look rather good on our drive.’

      ‘What are staddle stones, Granny?’ asked Abi.

      Henry answered, ‘Those stone mushroom things. I’m not prepared to pay over the odds for them, Dorothy.’

      Dorothy waved a hand airily. ‘Your Poppa has short arms and long pockets. Now come along, Henry.’

      Abi looked at Jem. ‘Fancy a bike ride?’

      ‘Sure,’ he said, draining his glass of squash.

      Abi dropped a kiss on her father’s head. ‘Bye, Dad. See you later.’

      Greg was desperate to find a quiet place where he could talk to Janie on his mobile. Connie and Pru were still in the house. He walked to the stairs and called up: ‘Connie? I’m going to the garage – fill up with fuel while I can. See you in a bit.’

      Connie appeared at the top of the stairs in shorts and T-shirt with a towel and a book under her arm. ‘OK, darling. I’m going down to the beach for a snooze and a read.’

      Greg felt a sense of liberation flood through him. He had the whole afternoon undisturbed with his phone and Janie.

      *

      Connie, too, was feeling liberated as she sauntered along the path to the beach. An afternoon with no responsibilities. Bliss! No need to talk, listen or do anything but lie down and read or sleep.

      ‘Connie, wait for me.’ A familiar voice broke into her bubble. Connie kept walking.

      ‘Connie!’ Irritation in the call now. ‘I said wait!’

      Connie breathed deeply, stopped and turned. Pru was at the top of the path, closing the garden gate. She looked cross and hot as she drew level with Connie.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were off to the beach? You knew I’d have said I’d come.’

      ‘Yes, I did know, but actually I was hoping for a bit of peace and quiet.’

      ‘Oh, me too. Don’t you find Mummy’s endless chatter and sparring with Daddy awfully wearing?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And the kids! They’re good kids, I know, but the noise, the mess – it’s exhausting.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And now Francis has decided to take to his bed. I just had to get out of the house.’

      ‘Yes.’

      They found themselves a sheltered spot of dry sand in the sunshine and rolled out their towels, smoothing them to remove any wrinkles and sitting down gently so as not to get any sand on them.

      Connie slipped out of her shorts and top to reveal a well-cut bikini and curvy thighs. She picked up her book and began to read.

      ‘What are you reading?’

      ‘Something from my book club.’

      ‘You’re lucky to have the time.’