coffee when you’ve had a chance to freshen up. Greg will probably be back by then.’
26
‘Throttle back. Point the nose to the right … gently.’ Henry talked Abi through the approach to the mouth of the cave that led to Atlantic House’s secret boathouse.
‘That’s it … easy does it.’
‘I have done this before, Poppa.’
‘Yes, I know. But Abi’s Gale handles a bit differently to the Dorothy. Now throttle back a bit and aim for that wall there, then we’ll turn the corner.’
Abi beamed with pleasure at the thrill of driving her own boat into the cave. She only wished she had a few spectators, but part of the boathouse’s purpose was to prevent arrivals and departures being observed. They slowly motored into the cave and up towards the man-made jetty.
Henry donned a battered blue cotton cap. ‘Well done, Abi. We’ll make a seaman of you yet.’
Greg, barefooted in his shorts, scrambled out into the thigh-deep water and up the semi-submerged slipway. He caught the rope one-handed and held it until Abi arrived to secure it to the metal ring embedded in the concrete floor. ‘Well done, Skip!’ He mock saluted her.
It took them a while to wipe the boat down and make her safe next to the Dorothy. Abi was beaming with excitement. ‘She’s the best present I’ve ever had, Dad. Thank you so much.’ She grabbed him in a bear hug. ‘And the party tonight is going to make this the best day of my whole life!’
Henry smiled indulgently at his beautiful granddaughter. ‘Tell you what, if we’re clever and sneaky, we might get out of here and over to The Bungalow before the rest of the family catch us. That way we can have a celebratory hot chocolate together.’
‘Personally,’ said Greg, ‘I could use a Scotch.’ He put his arm round Abi. ‘Next year I can take you for a proper drink in the pub, but for now, hot chocolate will have to do.’
She laughed and kissed his tanned stubbly cheek. ‘Thanks, Daddy. This really is the best birthday ever!’
The three of them climbed the stairs and made a dash for The Bungalow without being seen.
*
When they finally rolled up to Atlantic House after their celebratory hot chocolate, with a dash of Scotch for the men, they found a hive of activity and a very miffed Connie. She was in the hall, surrounded by balloons.
‘There you bloody are! Where the hell have you been? Have you eaten? If you’re hungry you’ll have to ask Janie to make you a cheese sandwich. She’s just clearing ours up, so you’d better get in quick.’
‘Who’s Janie?’ asked Abi, as Greg and Henry gasped ‘Janie!’ in unison.
‘Hii!’ Janie was standing in the door of the kitchen, brandishing a sharp knife. ‘I make a mean cheese and pickle if you want some?’
Greg felt his legs turning to liquid beneath him. His eyes swivelled from Janie to Connie and back again.
Henry, doing his utmost to conceal his fury, stepped forward. ‘Welcome, Janie,’ he said, in a not altogether welcoming voice. ‘This is a surprise.’
‘A good one, I hope?’ she giggled mischievously. ‘I’ve got some paperwork that Greg wanted me to bring down.’
‘You have?’ Greg was finding it hard to breathe and talk at the same time.
‘Yes. We discussed it yesterday. Remember?’
Greg shook his head then nodded it in confusion.
‘OK, who wants a sandwich?’ said Janie, turning back to the kitchen.
‘How did the boat go?’ Connie asked Abi. ‘I was watching you zipping across the bay.’
Greg and Henry remained in the hall, watching as the women disappeared into the kitchen. Greg was feeling as if he’d been the victim of a hit-and-run accident. Henry was staring at him, his colour rising ominously.
‘I want a word with you,’ he hissed. ‘In the study.’
Greg blinked and looked at his father-in-law’s deadly serious face. He did as he was told.
‘Here, drink this.’ Henry passed a glass of Scotch over, before waving Greg to a seat and sinking down in a chair himself.
‘Thank you,’ said Greg meekly.
‘What the devil do you think you’re doing, inviting her here?’ Henry’s voice was controlled, but the fury in his tone was unmistakable. ‘And, before you say a word, bear in mind that I already know the answer.’
Greg sipped the Scotch to buy some time. Henry was no fool in business or in private. How much did he know? How did he know? Greg took another, larger mouthful of his drink.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh yes you do.’
Greg looked at his hand, clasping the glass.