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

One of the crewmen was helping some elderly ladies and a woman with a baby in a pushchair, on to the safety of dry land. Once everyone was off, he put out a sandwich board on which were the departure times and details of the next sailings.

He started calling to passers-by: ‘One-hour trip around the bay. You don’t come back, you don’t pay!’

A young couple and their two children stopped and had a conversation with him. After a few moments, they climbed aboard. The crewman started again.

‘See the dolphins and the seals round our beautiful coastline. One hour’s trip. Refreshments served on board.’ A large family group stopped, spoke to the man, then embarked, smiling, making their way to the open seats at the back of the boat.

Jeremy and Abi watched with fond memories. ‘Remember that trip we took on Puffin Boy when we were little? I was sick all over Dad,’ laughed Jem.

‘God, yes! Mum and I threw up over the side, but only because Dad held our heads down so we wouldn’t vom on his new deck shoes,’ Abigail remembered, giggling.

‘I’d never do it to my kids,’ said Jem.

‘You’ll have the Dorothy by then, though, won’t you,’ Abi stated.

Jem looked at his cousin’s sad face. ‘Look, whatever Mum and Auntie Connie inherit from Poppa, we’ll share. Shake?’

He put his hand out. Abi smiled at him. ‘Do you mean that?’

‘Yep. Let’s you and I make a pact that when they’ve dropped off the perch and we are grown up, we’ll share everything out between us.’ He put his hand out to Abi, who took it and shook.

‘Deal.’

Jem stood up. ‘I wonder if there are any jobs going on Puffin Boy.’

The crewman was only too pleased to hear that Jem wanted a job. ‘Got any experience of being at sea?’

‘Yeah. My grandad has a boat: the Dorothy.’

The crewman was impressed. ‘You mean the Riva? Mr Carew’s boat?’

‘Yeah.’

‘She’s a beauty. Worth a fortune. And he lets you drive her?’

‘Since I was twelve, yeah.’

The crewman considered this.

‘Can you shout loud enough to call the punters in?’

‘Er, yeah, I’ll, like, try.’

‘Give it a go then.’

Jem cleared his throat: ‘Roll up, roll up for the adventure of a lifetime. The good ship Puffin Boy is patrolling for pirates, dolphins and mermaids. Can you help us find them? Roll up, roll up.’

Abi was pink with embarrassment for her cousin but couldn’t stop giggling.

‘Right,’ said the crewman. ‘My name’s Robbie and you’ve got yourself a job. Thirty quid a day. Take it or leave it.’

Jem didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll take it.’

‘OK. See you first thing tomorrow. Eight thirty sharp. Time and tide wait for no man.’

*

To celebrate, Abi and Jem cycled back to Treviscum, where Jem scraped up enough cash to buy them a big bag of chips from the burger van in the beach car park.

‘How come you find a job first go and I, who really need one, can’t find one?’ Abi licked her salty fingers.

Jem was in too good a mood to let Abi bring him down. ‘We’ll get you one too, don’t worry. And my birthday present to you will be two days’ pay towards your party.’

‘Would you really do that?’

‘Yep.’

‘How much cider will sixty quid buy?’

‘Almost enough for you. Don’t know about the others though,’ laughed Jem. Balling up his chip paper and searching in his shorts pockets for some more coins, he asked, ‘Want an ice cream for pudding?’

On the sand dunes above the beach was perched a gaily coloured caravan with an awning advertising Pearl’s Ice Creams.

Pearl was one of many young women who’d fallen in love while on holiday and decided to stay. Over the long winter, she and her coastguard lover had secured the rental pitch above the beach and invested two hundred pounds in a thirty-year-old caravan.

Gone were the Formica pine-effect worktops and the sofa and pull-out bed.

The interior now housed a state-of-the-art freezer and tea- and coffee-making equipment. Everything was painted white, apart from the ceiling, which was covered in Friesian cow sticky wallpaper. An old but comfy armchair in the corner had a small puppy curled up on it.

The outside was painted in pink-and-white stripes and had wind chimes and driftwood hanging from the sun blind.

A hand-painted menu offered many delicious flavours of ice cream.

At least a dozen hot holidaymakers were queuing.

Pearl was busy: ‘A double rum and raisin with fudge sauce and a chocolate flake for you,’ she said, passing the cone to a middle-aged mum.

‘Two large 99s with extra clotted cream for you,’ she said, handing them to a couple of kids. ‘And a strong coffee for you.’ She poured one for the dad of the family. He took it and handed her a ten-pound note.

‘Keep the change.’

‘Ah, thanks, sir.’ She put the cash in a small pot on the counter and looked at Jem and Abi. ‘Yes, my loves. What can I get you?’

‘Two 99s, please. And would you like a paid helper?’ Jem steamed straight in.

Pearl grinned. ‘Why? Do you want a job?’

‘No, but my cousin Abi does.’