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

‘I hear you two have been arguing –’ he studied Francis’s sore face – ‘and Francis has come off worst, by the look of things. Mind telling me what it was about?’

The sisters looked anywhere but at each other or their father.

Henry bellowed at them, ‘I am going to remain here until this is sorted out. What’s been going on?’

Connie leapt in: ‘Pru said that you and Mummy would be leaving Atlantic House to her instead of sharing it out between us. And then Greg got that idiot Merlin Pengelly to look at the boiler and we had a flood and now we’re waiting for Merlin to come back with the spare parts because we still don’t have any hot water.’

Henry pursed his lips. ‘Let’s deal with the plumbing first. Merlin Pengelly – is he that bugger who made a mess of our summer twenty-odd years ago?’

‘Yes,’ said Connie. ‘And now Greg’s got him to mess up the plumbing as well.’

Greg spoke: ‘Come on, I was only doing my bit. You asked me to find a plumber and I did.’

‘How did you manage to come up with that waste of space? He’s not even a plumber!’ boomed Henry.

Greg reached across to a pile of discarded newspapers and pulled out a copy of the parish magazine. ‘Here, it says: “Merlin’s Magic Plumbing Services. No job too big or small.”’

‘Oh,’ said Pru nastily, ‘it wasn’t too onerous a task for you to track him down then? All you had to do was read through the recycling. Well done.’

Greg clenched his hands. ‘I can do without your sarcasm, Pru. And if it wasn’t for you plotting to con Connie out of her inheritance, we wouldn’t be in the situation we find ourselves in. Would we?’

‘Exactly.’ Connie threw a spiteful look at her sister and then laid her hand on Greg’s. ‘Well said, darling.’

‘I see,’ said Henry. ‘Tell me, Pru, what is this about you inheriting Atlantic House?’ He looked her straight in the eyes.

She dropped her gaze under his scrutiny and whispered, ‘That’s not quite what I said.’

Connie shot back, ‘It’s exactly what you said.’

Henry raised his hands to silence them both.

‘Did you say that, Pru?’

Pru squirmed. ‘In a way, but—’

‘But what? Since when do you decide how I divvy up my home and worldly goods?’

Pru, shame-faced, didn’t answer.

Connie chipped in: ‘Exactly, Daddy. She wants all the good stuff and she’s trying to cut me out.’

Now Henry’s stony gaze turned on Connie.

‘“All the good stuff”? What do you think the firm is? I made your husband managing director. Carew Family Board Games has made me what I am today, what Greg is today and what you are today. Without the factory and the business, there would be no Atlantic House.’

Connie opened her mouth as if to say something, but Greg caught her eye and shook his head, so she closed it again.

Henry placed his hands palms down on the table. ‘So, my two venal, selfish daughters, you want to know how much you’ll be worth when I’m dead and gone?’ He waved away their vehement protests. ‘Yes, you do. And the answer is that I don’t know. Your mother and I intend to go on living for a while yet. And we may as well indulge ourselves a little, since neither of you have done anything to deserve Atlantic House or the company.’

Greg, looking aggrieved, protested, ‘Hold on, Henry, I’m keeping the money coming into the firm.’

‘True. But I would expect nothing less, you are a salaried managing director with a generous annual bonus, a pension scheme and a family home bought and paid for by the firm. You are not – I’m sorry to be blunt here – my son. You are my daughter’s husband. Two different things.’

Greg looked with fury at his father-in-law and chairman, but wisely kept his temper under control and fought the urge to respond.

Henry continued: ‘In all the years you’ve been coming here, have you ever helped your mother prepare the house for these long, free family holidays? Have you ever offered to pay for the fuel or water bills that you run up so profligately? Or chipped in to help with running repairs?’

He looked around at the guilty faces before him. ‘No. So, if Dorothy and I decide to sell up, go to Las Vegas and put all the money on red, we shall.’

A silence so dense you could see it, fell upon them.

‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ said Connie, clearly shaken.

‘What can we do?’ asked Pru.

‘You can all start pulling your weight around here and not expecting it to land in your lap. I worked hard for everything you enjoy in life. And my father worked hard before me. I’ve been too soft on you all. I suggest you begin by sorting out the plumbing – which, by the way, you will pay for as a sign of goodwill. Do I make myself clear?’ Henry saw their nodding heads and then turned to leave. When he reached the French doors, he paused and said sadly, ‘You have really disappointed me.’

*

The four adults felt very small indeed.

Francis, who’d been doodling on his shopping list, lifted his head and said quietly but firmly, ‘If we’re not careful we’re going to ruin this holiday for your parents and our children. Henry has a point. We do all take this house and Dorothy’s hospitality for granted.’ He looked around the table. ‘I propose we make a concerted effort to smarten the old place up. And pay for it too. All those in favour, raise their hands.’

Pru sniggered, ‘You’re not at a PTA meeting now, Francis.’

‘Are you saying you are not in favour?’

‘No, I’m—’

‘Then raise your hand.’

Three hands went up and Francis added his. ‘Motion carried. Excellent. Greg? Where’s yesterday’s maintenance list? You and I will do an inventory of work that needs to be carried out on the exterior of the building. Connie and Pru, you go through each room inside the house, noting if anything needs repairing or repainting, and then give everything a good spring clean. OK?’

Everyone nodded, stunned at the transformation in Francis.

‘Yessir!’ said Greg. ‘But let’s have a brew first.’

‘Did I hear you’re making a brew?’ Merlin walked into the kitchen looking rather rough and undeniably handsome in his overalls.

‘Ah, morning, Merlin.’ Francis got up. ‘I could think of one or two other elusive figures you might more aptly have been named after. Houdini for one and the Scarlet Pimpernel for another.’

‘Is that an up-country joke?’ said Merlin with a short laugh.

‘No. You are a West Country joke, Merlin. You are not leaving this house today until you’ve repaired the boiler, fixed the leak under the sink – which was second only to Niagara Falls last night – and replaced the washer in the dripping tap of our en-suite. Do you understand?’

‘Handsome. No worries,’ responded Merlin, the insults rolling off him like mercury on glass.

Pru, glass of cranberry juice in hand, edged her way past Merlin, saying, ‘I’m off to make a start in the drawing room.’ Merlin goosed her as she went by. She scowled at him and called her sister. ‘Come along, Connie.’