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

‘What are you doing here?’ His headache was worsening and he looked around for the painkillers the hospital had given him.

She got to them first and popped two out of the blister pack, then handed him a glass of water.

‘Emily and I needed a holiday and it was sheer coincidence that I found Dairy Cottage on the Internet.’ He swallowed down the tablets and passed the glass back to her. She took it and frowned. ‘I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you think.’

He tried to laugh and shake his head but it hurt.

She looked with great concern into Francis’s face.

‘Frankie, you do look pale.’

‘My head aches a bit.’

‘Well, I’ll cancel my coffee and let you rest.’ She picked up her large sequin-spangled handbag. ‘I’m going into Trevay to do my big shop and then get really settled into Dairy Cottage. Emily and I won’t intrude, I promise.’

Francis attempted some gallantry through his swimming consciousness. ‘You’re both welcome. More the merrier.’

‘What a lovely couple of weeks we’ll all have.’ She leaned over and kissed his bruised forehead. ‘I’ll have you right as rain in no time.’

Whether it was this threat, the shock or the pills, he’d never know, but his body shut down and he slid gratefully back to sleep.

10 (#ulink_0e1ecf60-12ea-5ca6-aff4-e4d29bc39ee5)

Francis knew Belinda was somewhere in the house. He called her name but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of running water. He found her in the shower. Her curvaceous outline was blurred by the rippled glass of the shower door, but he watched as she tipped her head back under the shower. Shampoo suds caressed her ears, shoulders and breasts before they splashed into the shower tray and slid down the drain. He called her name again, ‘Belinda?’

‘Frankie? Is that you?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

‘Have you?’

‘Of course. Take your clothes off and join me.’

Naked, he opened the shower door and stepped into the humid warmth. He found her lips and kissed them. She put her arms round him and he quivered as his chest met the warm softness of her breasts. She called his name again and again: ‘Francis. Francis, do you want some lunch?’

What a strange thing to ask at a time like this. Nevertheless he answered, ‘Yes. What would you like?’

‘Francis! I am asking you!’ She shook his shoulder with more strength than was necessary. He opened his eyes and saw Pru’s concerned face leaning over him.

‘Francis! You’ve been out for the count!’ He sat up with a jolt and looked at the bedside clock. Two p.m.

Greg put his head round the door. ‘Hello, Rip Van Winkle. Had a good snooze?’

The dream of Belinda was rapidly receding. ‘Hello, Pru, Greg. Sorry. I should get up. Things to do.’

‘There’s nothing to do, darling. I’m going for a walk and later on we’re ordering in a Chinese takeaway. Just came to check on you. Hungry?’ Pru was being very kind.

‘I’m fine. You go and have a walk and I’ll sort myself out.’

‘Sure?’ She was touching his hand. ‘I’m a bit worried about you. That bang on the head. Do you feel sick? Are you seeing double? Got a headache?’

‘No, no. Sleeping it off, that’s all. I’m fine. Really.’

‘OK. Well, I’ll see you later.’

Pru left with a sympathetic smile, Greg with a wolfish wink.

*

Francis gingerly got out of bed and crept on to the landing. From the stairs window he saw Belinda’s car bouncing down the lane and then watched as she drove into her driveway, scraping only a small section of the drystone wall as she did so. He slunk behind the curtains, peeking surreptitiously as she climbed out of the car and ferried backwards and forwards between car and house, laden with shopping bags. Finally she locked the car, went into Dairy Cottage and closed the front door. He allowed himself to breathe out, then padded downstairs. His heart was pounding and his stomach felt jittery; Belinda’s sudden arrival in the midst of his family life had unsettled something inside him.

The house was quiet as he entered the kitchen. A voice made him jump.

‘You sly old dog. Didn’t think you had it in you. Hats off!’

Greg had followed him in.

‘What do you mean?’ Francis tried to keep his voice light.

‘Belinda! She’s one sexy lady. Why on earth would her husband let her slip through his fingers?’

Francis put a wholemeal bagel into the toaster and ignored the question.

Greg continued: ‘You’re playing it dangerously, aren’t you? Having a woman like that, fancying you the way she does, on your own doorstep. Takes guts.’

‘We work on the PTA together, that’s all.’

‘So why invite her down to spend the summer here?’

‘I didn’t,’ Francis said angrily. ‘She won’t leave me alone. It’s making me ill.’

Greg looked disbelievingly at his brother-in-law. ‘Then why was she kissing you in your bed?’

Francis sat down and put his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know. She’s just being kind and caring. It’s her way.’

‘Rubbish, old chap. I’m a man of the world.’ I understand how these things work. Some women are attracted to married men, and it’s our duty to help them.’ He gave Francis another wink. ‘What the eye doesn’t see the heart doesn’t grieve over, eh?’

Francis bristled. ‘What kind of man do you think I am? I love Pru and I take my marriage vows seriously. I would never ever be unfaithful to her.’

Greg sighed and crossed his legs, weighing something up.

‘Look, Francis, I can help you. We can help each other. A problem halved and all that. You see, the thing is … I’m in a bit of a pickle myself.’

‘Pickle?’

‘Yes … With Janie, my secretary.’