Fern Britton 3-Book Collection: The Holiday Home, A Seaside Affair, A Good Catch. Fern Britton
summer, Henry? We found her in a terrible state. She’d been at your brandy.’
Henry thought for a moment, ‘That was Pru, wasn’t it?’
‘No.’ Dorothy was quite definite. ‘Connie.’ She turned to Pru: ‘What was it all about? A row over some boyfriend, as I recall.’
Pru looked into her own glass and said quietly, ‘I really don’t remember.’
‘Yes, you do,’ said Dorothy. ‘You and Connie didn’t speak to each other for months.’
‘God, yes,’ Henry breathed. ‘It was over that boy – Merlin.’
Greg sat up, suddenly attentive. ‘Merlin? He told me you two girls had had a falling out. Don’t tell me you got in a fight over that no hoper!’ Greg waved his glass at Pru. ‘Come on, spill the beans. Did he break poor old Con’s heart? Or yours?’
Pru stood up and started to collect the dirty plates. ‘It was a summer of parties and friends and Merlin was just one of the gang.’ She reached across the table. ‘Pass me your plate, Daddy.’
Registering Pru’s discomfort, Belinda leapt to her aid. ‘Gosh, look at the time! Come on, everyone, let’s get this lot tidied up so we can head off to bed. Emily, you wait here – I’m just going to give Pru a hand clearing up.’
As they busied themselves in the kitchen, Belinda chatted away brightly.
‘Frankie and I had a wonderful morning in Trevay, today. He’s such a lovely man.’ She put the last of the dinner plates on the worktop. ‘Did he tell you we had lunch?’
‘Yes, he said you had been kind enough to give him a lift.’ Pru reached for an apron.
‘How did you two meet?’ asked Belinda, loading cutlery into the dishwasher.
Pru told her the story. ‘And he has looked after me, and then Jeremy, ever since,’ she concluded.
‘So you’re very good friends?’
Pru ran the hot tap into the sink and squeezed in a measure of Fairy Liquid for the larger bowls and pans. ‘Yes, that’s true. We are very good friends.’ She gave Belinda a gimlet ‘back-off’ stare. ‘We are an excellent team.’ She emphasised the last word.
Belinda smiled to herself and picked up a tea towel.
‘That’s nice.’
Pru lifted a soapy saucepan on to the draining board. Belinda picked it up and started drying it. ‘So, tell me about Merlin. I’ve seen him working on the house.’
‘Nothing to tell,’ said Pru, scrubbing a pot. ‘We were all friends. It was years ago.’
‘You and he together?’
Pru looked at Belinda steadily. ‘No, me and Connie, and a large group of friends.’
‘One of whom was Merlin?’
‘Yes.’
‘And …?’ pushed Belinda.
‘And, nothing,’ said Pru.
‘Strange. Outside just now, the way you were talking about him, it sounded as if you and Merlin and Connie had a bit of a history.’
Pru gave her a withering and bemused look. ‘Puh-lease, as the young ones say.’
They continued washing up for a few more minutes, then Belinda said, ‘He’s a good-looking man.’
Pru pulled out the sink plug and dried her hands on her apron. ‘Yes. Merlin was always rather handsome.’
‘I meant Francis,’ drawled Belinda.
*
Greg had somehow managed to steer Connie up to bed. His one good arm was still strong enough to hold her, even though on every stair tread she stopped and kissed him. She had always been an amorous drunk, and tonight was no exception. Greg, fired up with thoughts of Janie, was quite happy to oblige. He swiftly got his wife undressed and comfortable on the bed.
Afterwards, he kissed her and held her and told her how much he loved her. It was possible she was asleep and couldn’t hear him, but he felt a pang of guilt all the same. He promised himself that, as soon as the summer was over, he’d cool it with Janie. Maybe.
Connie, meanwhile, had been quite aware of what was happening to her but she’d chosen to close her eyes and imagine that it was Merlin in her bed. His beautiful face, his lean, tanned body, the mischievous charm of him. He had first made love to her in this house. He’d come one day when everyone else was out. Connie had poured him a shandy – the most grown-up drink she could think of. He had teased her and said he couldn’t drink it alone, she’d have to have one too. After a couple, she’d been desperate for him to kiss her. They’d sat talking, head to head, almost nose to nose. He’d told her about the sea, and what it was like to grow up in Cornwall, and he’d told her how good she looked in her bikini when she came to the beach. When he finally moved in for a kiss, she closed her eyes and let him do what she wanted. Just as she had let Greg do this evening.
She smiled when he told her how much he loved her. He was sleeping now. Once again she thought how lucky she was to have a husband she could trust. It had taken a long time for the pain of Merlin’s betrayal to fade.
*
Pru watched Francis as he got himself ready for bed. She tried to see him with fresh eyes. He had strong legs and only a tiny bit of belly. His face was pleasing. His kind eyes were large and well set, his nose of average length and straight. His teeth were good and his hair, although slightly receding, was otherwise thick and cut well. Handsome? She supposed he was, but that wasn’t what had attracted her. It was the man inside that mattered. She knew they were a team. A partnership. They could rely on each other. She looked again at his familiar face.
‘Francis?’
‘Hmm?’ He was concentrating on applying athlete’s foot powder to his toes.
‘I think you have an admirer.’
He froze but managed to say, ‘Oh yes?’ in a tight voice.
‘Yes – Belinda! How funny is that!’
The following morning found Abi, in her pyjamas, lolling on Jem’s bed.
‘Like, it’s so unfair. Mum and Dad have always paid for my birthday parties. Why won’t they pay for this one? They know I haven’t got any money.’ She sighed, twirling her hair round her finger and then picking at the split ends.
Jem was trying to sleep. He hadn’t moved since she’d come in a couple of minutes earlier. Drool had made the pillow wet under his open mouth.
She continued: ‘Where am I supposed to get a job? This is my holiday. I’m supposed to be relaxing after my ASs and building my strength for the A2s.’
‘Uh,’ Jem managed.
‘It’s so mean of them. I’ve worked hard at school and everything and I’m tired. I really need my holiday. They just don’t get it.’
Jem turned over and grunted again.
‘It’s not like I can ask people to bring their own food and drink, is it? So-o-o not cool. I’m seventeen, for crying out loud.’ She tossed the lock of hair behind her shoulder and started picking at her chipped nail polish. ‘I can’t wait to be eighteen and outta here.’
‘Uh.’
‘So what should I do?’
Jem rubbed his eye and farted.
‘Go and look for a job?’
‘Oh, you’re so