Fern Britton 3-Book Collection: The Holiday Home, A Seaside Affair, A Good Catch

‘I’m fine, Mummy. So happy to be here again – oof!’ Pru suddenly came to a halt as if in spasm, her right side collapsed on itself, a look of pain on her face.

‘My God, whatever’s the matter?’ Dorothy rushed to her aid.

Smiling bravely and steadying herself, Pru replied, ‘It’s the drive. I’ve been sitting too long. You know Francis, he never lets us stop.’

Her mother glowered at the blameless Francis, who was standing on the drive with several heavy bags at his feet. He gawped at his wife with his mouth open in astonishment.

‘Francis, don’t stand there like a halfwit. Bring Pru’s things in while I get her comfortable.’

‘I’m fine, Mummy. Really I am. Ow! Don’t take my arm, it radiates the pain into my leg.’

The pair walked into the cool shade of the beautiful old hallway, leaving Connie to help Francis with the bags.

‘How was the drive?’ she asked him knowingly.

He smiled at the sister-in-law he was so fond of. ‘The usual.’

‘How was she with the police?’

He sighed. ‘Forceful is the best word for it.’

‘Ah.’

‘Quite.’

They looked at one another and laughed.

‘Let’s get these bags in and I’ll fix you a brew – unless you fancy something stronger?’

‘Oh, Con, you are a dear. I think a nice cup of camomile tea will do me nicely.’

Pru, meanwhile, had followed her mother to the large cream drawing room overlooking the sea.

Dorothy plumped the cushions on the long and inviting sofa.

‘Here, darling, put your feet up. I’ll have Connie bring you tea and a hot-water bottle.’

Connie, hearing this as she entered the room, looked at Pru suspiciously.

‘Hi, sis. What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing really. The osteopath thinks it’s a slipped disc, but I’m fine. Aargh!’ She screwed her eyes up at the alleged sudden pain. ‘It’s only when I move. Mummy, would you find my bag? Francis will know where it is. I have some painkillers in it.’

‘Of course, darling.’

As soon as their mother had left the room, Connie rounded on her sister.

‘There is nothing wrong with you. And, no, you are not having the big bedroom.’

‘Connie, I am in severe pain here. I don’t want to spoil anyone’s holiday, but I simply can’t sleep on that bed in the blue room. It just isn’t firm enough.’

Connie stood with her hands on her hips. ‘If you think I’m going to relinquish the big room because you’re pretending to have a bad back …’

Dorothy returned. ‘Here’s your bag, darling. Connie, Pru must have the big room. You’ll be fine in the blue room. Golly, how selfish you are! I’ll tell Francis to swap the luggage round.’ She swept out of the room calling, ‘Francis, Francis.’

Pru, with a gleeful look of triumph, preened. ‘Well. That’s sorted then. Get me a cup of tea, would you?’

4 (#ulink_6f316313-6b9f-5cb7-b8d9-1a914d4ef0ef)

‘I can’t believe Mummy fell for that. Bad back, my arse.’ Connie was in the blue bedroom, unpacking the first of their four bags while Greg lay on the bed fiddling with his laptop.

He was exchanging very personal emails with Janie. Her descriptions of what she was wearing and what she was doing to herself at that moment were turning him on. He rolled on to his stomach to conceal his excitement.

Connie was moving about the room with hangers and holiday clothes. ‘Do you want me to unpack your case for you, Greg? Might as well, while I’m doing mine.’

He was typing something and had a little smile on his lips. He didn’t answer his wife.

‘Greg?’

‘Hmm?’

She walked to the bed and bent over him to see the screen, which instantly went dark as he pressed the sleep button.

‘What are you up to that’s making you smile?’

‘Oh, one of the guys at the gym. Just been to Berlin on a stag weekend. You wouldn’t want to know what he’s been up to.’

‘Were you invited?’ she asked airily, picking up a couple of T-shirts and placing them in an open drawer.

He closed the lid of the laptop and turned to face her. ‘Yep. But why would I go out for hamburger when I have steak at home?’ Eyeing up his wife’s shapely, hourglass figure, he made a grab for her as she passed the bed on the way to putting an emptied case away.

‘You have a much nicer arse than your sister … or your mother, for that matter.’

‘Do I?’ Connie giggled and wriggled out of his grasp to check herself in the cheval mirror.

‘Yes, you do.’ He grabbed his wife’s waist again as she walked past the bed.

‘Greg, I’m not sure there’s time for that!’

He pulled her down beside him, and lifting her hair from her neck began nibbling the way she liked best.

‘Greg, I have to make supper for the kids. Pru won’t, and I don’t want any of that wholefood budgie stuff Francis dishes up.’

Her husband persisted with the nibbling and then allowed his hand to drift to her breast. He felt her nipple stiffen under her T-shirt.

‘Come on, darling. Just a quickie. It’ll release all the tension in you.’

Ten minutes later she did feel a lot better. She looked at Greg’s handsome face as he slept and marvelled at how lucky she was to have a husband like him. He wasn’t a tall man, but his dark grey eyes and tanned face made her heart flip still. He was a great dad to Abi, who adored him, and he had never strayed in the twenty years they’d been married. Of course, it wasn’t all sweetness and light, she reflected. There were weeks on end when she didn’t see Greg. He worked too hard and was always away on business, selling Carew games to the rest of the world. She knew she should be grateful; Abi went to a brilliant school and they had never wanted for anything, but there were times when she resented having to hold the fort. All those nights out without her husband, feeling like a spare part. Parents’ evenings alone, school plays alone …