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

‘Here she comes. Our newspaper girl. Abi, a Sun for Terry, please.’

Abi pulled out a copy of the Sun and passed it to the man at the head of the queue. Pearl handed him a paper cup of tea at the same time. ‘There you are, Terry. D’you want a deckchair? Abi, get Terry a deckchair, please.’

And so the day went on. Pearl knew everyone on the beach. If someone came along that she didn’t know, she’d be on first-name terms with them by the time they left. Abi was amazed at how much information people were ready to give. Their address, here on holiday and back home; who they were with; their state of health; names of children, grandchildren and dogs … everything.

In a short lull, Abi asked Pearl how she did it. ‘I’m interested, that’s all. The more special and important they feel, the more they’ll come back and spend their holiday money.’ Pearl laughed. ‘I like them, they like me, and it’s good for business. Make me a cup of tea, will you – and have one yourself.’

The afternoon got hotter and sunnier and the trade for ice creams got brisker. Abi started to master the art of scooping the ice cream and balancing it perfectly on its cone.

Children flocked to the caravan to tickle Blue and take her for walks up and down the beach. ‘Take one of my plastic bags in case she does a poo,’ instructed Pearl. The kids loved hearing her say ‘poo’ and diligently collected the steamy little bags and brought them to Pearl for inspection.

‘Bless their little hearts!’ said Pearl. Each child was given a Flake as a reward for their help.

By six o’clock, Abi’s legs and jaw muscles were aching from standing and smiling all day. Pearl was as fresh as a daisy, her lipstick freshly applied and her glowing face tanned but never shiny.

‘Right, young Abi. How do you think you’ve done today?’

Abi was surprised by the question. ‘Uh, I don’t know. I hope I’ve done OK. I really enjoyed it.’

‘Which bit did you enjoy the best?’

‘Serving the ice cream and talking to the kids.’

‘Good. Do you reckon you could do that every day till the end of August? Because, my girl, the job is yours if you want it.’

‘Oh, yes please.’ Abi hugged Pearl.

‘Excellent. Tomorrow I want you here by eight forty-five, with the newspapers. By nine I want the tea urns on and the floor swept, ready for me at nine fifteen. I’m having a lie-in. I’ll push the keys through your letter box when I close up tonight. OK?’

‘Yeah. Great!’

‘Off you go then, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

*

Abi walked into the kitchen and flopped on a chair, yawning.

‘Hi, darling. How did it go?’ asked Greg, who was pecking at the keys on his laptop, having become quite proficient in the art of one-handed typing.

‘S’all right. Knackering.’ Another theatrical yawn. ‘I’m going to have a bath.’

On the stairs she met her mother. ‘Hi, darling. How was it?’

‘It was OK. I’m so tired I’m going to have a bath.’

‘Oh, right. Supper’s at seven thirty.’

‘What are we having?’

‘Granny’s done one of her shepherd’s pies.’

‘Oh yum. Is Jem back yet?’

‘I haven’t seen him.’

Connie went to the kitchen to find Greg, who, on seeing her, quickly pressed a button that made his computer go to screen saver.

She ambled over and put her arms round his shoulders.

‘You seem to be working so hard this holiday. I’ve hardly spent any time with you.’ She kissed his head.

He flapped his broken arm in its cast. ‘It’s this thing. I feel absolutely bloody useless. You and Pru have been so busy with the house. How’s the roof looking?’

‘Not bad. The roofer seems a nice man, even if he is a friend of Merlin’s.’ She perched her bottom on the table and faced Greg. ‘He says it’ll be finished tomorrow.’

‘What about Merlin? Any news on the boiler?’

‘He says he’s ordered it and it’ll be here at the end of the week. In the meantime, the old one is at least giving us hot water and the leak under the sink has stopped.’ She ran her fingers across her neck and shoulders. ‘Fine holiday this is turning out to be. Your arm, the house … I could do with a day away from this place. Just the two of us. Can we do that?’

Greg looked at his wife. She looked exhausted. It was true: she had been working non-stop while he and Janie had been enjoying virtual sex via email. Maybe she deserved a bit of a treat.

‘What would you like to do?’

‘Nothing too complicated. A drive along the coast. Find a nice pub for lunch and sit in the sunshine. Hmm?’ She moved off the table and sat in Greg’s lap. She kissed him warmly. He put his good hand on her bottom and gave it a squeeze.

‘Why not. My wife and I are going to have a day out tomorrow.’ They kissed again, more passionately this time.

‘Get a room, can’t you?’ Abi came in with her hair wrapped in a towelling turban and wearing shortie silk pyjamas covered in pink hearts.

She picked up a magazine from the worktop and went out to the verandah where she collapsed, groaning, on to a sun lounger.

Her parents watched her. Connie giggled. ‘Drama school, do you think?’

‘They couldn’t teach her anything,’ smiled Greg.

‘Hi, guys.’ Jem walked in and swung his shoulder bag down on to the table. ‘Does my face look red?’ He crouched to examine his reflection in the toaster.

‘A bit,’ replied his aunt. ‘Did you forget to put sun cream on?’

‘Yeah. It didn’t look that sunny.’

Greg reopened his computer and started typing. ‘That’s because the sun’s rays bounce off the—’

‘—sea. Yes, I did that at school. Well, now I’ve done the control experiment and can confirm that the sun’s rays do indeed bounce off the sea and burn your bloody face to a crisp.’

‘Language, Jem.’ His mother appeared with dark circles under her eyes and a laundry basket under her arm. ‘Connie, are you making tea?’

‘Yeah.’ Connie got off Greg’s lap and stretched. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’