The Holiday Home Page 0,18

so sweet of you, Francis. Much appreciated.’ Connie gave him a warm hug and then hurried after Dorothy and Pru.

As the women walked away, Francis collected the remaining plates and scraped them into the bin.

*

‘Here you are, ladies,’ he said ten minutes later, carrying a tea tray laden with mugs and organic muesli biscuits. ‘Where shall I put it?’

‘Coffee table, Francis,’ said Pru, barely looking at him.

‘Well, the kitchen’s all clear for the morning. I’ll just pop over to The Bungalow to say good night to Henry and Greg.’

‘OK. See you in the morning. And thank you for supper, Francis.’ Connie smiled at him as he left.

Pru turned to their mother. ‘How are you settling into the new bungalow, Mummy?’

‘It’s perfect, darling. Easy to clean, lovely and warm. Everything brand new. What else would we do with all that garden. It was the ideal plot and it’s the best thing your father ever persuaded me to do.’

Connie looked unconvinced. ‘How could you bear to leave Atlantic House and live in a modern box?’

‘Easily. When your father and I bought Atlantic House we were considerably younger than we are now. Your father can’t get up on the roof to paint gutters any more. It takes him two days just to mow the lawn. And I am fed up with all the housework. The Bungalow takes twenty minutes, tops. Also, now we have our separate rooms and bathrooms, we get along so much better.’

Connie raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t you miss cuddling up to him at night? I think he misses you.’

‘Sex is very overrated, darling. I’m glad all that side of things is finished. Much nicer to do the crossword together.’

‘Too much information, Mummy!’ Connie preferred not to hear her mother talk about her sex life.

‘Well, I’d love separate rooms,’ sighed Pru. ‘Francis and I have never bothered too much with that sort of thing.’

Connie looked astonished. ‘Don’t you have sex either?’

‘No. Still, it’s not as if I’m a panting twenty-something, is it?’

Connie thought for a moment. ‘When did you last make love?’

‘I can’t remember. Couple of years, at least.’

‘Two years!’ Connie was shocked. Greg had told her that if they didn’t make love at least three times a week his testicles would be damaged. ‘Poor Francis! He must be feeling so neglected!’ Connie was indignant on her brother-in-law’s behalf. ‘I make sure Greg is very happy. I always have.’

‘And you?’ her mother asked. ‘How about you? Does he make sure you’re happy?’

‘Yes. Well, it’s not as if the earth moves every time. But it’s the glue that holds a man and woman together in a marriage.’

Pru tipped her head back and laughed. ‘Dear little Connie. It’s as if the feminist movement never happened.’

‘No. It’s not to do with that. It’s …’ Connie felt flustered and hated her elder sister for trying to belittle her.

Dorothy stepped in. ‘Darling, one day you will pray for separate bedrooms. Believe me.’ She stood up and said pointedly, ‘Now, I am off to my peaceful bed in my horrid little bungalow.’ The comment was aimed at Pru, who didn’t react. Dorothy continued: ‘I suggest the pair of you head off for an early night too.’

Both girls tutted in annoyance behind their mother’s retreating back.

Dorothy heard and, without bothering to turn round, added: ‘With luck you’ll be asleep before either of your husbands return.’

*

While the women had been chatting, Henry had been catching up with Greg. He poured them each a large glass of Scotch and motioned for Greg to sit in one of the two armchairs.

‘So, my boy. The business is looking in excellent shape.’

Greg stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘Yes, we’ve had a good first half of the year and the Japanese are meeting the delivery dates on the new apps, which I believe will increase our turnover significantly over the next twenty-four months.’

They discussed markets, initiatives and overheads for a while, and then Henry said, ‘You know, my old father wouldn’t recognise the company now. He would have hated all these virtual games. His mantra was always “Nothing can beat the fun—”’

Greg finished it off for him: ‘“—of a family sitting round the table playing Ludo.”’

Henry looked at him in surprise. ‘Have I mentioned that before?’

‘Once or twice.’

‘Well, you’ve been with the company … ooh, how many years is it?’

‘Coming up for twenty-two.’

‘Twenty-two years. My goodness! And look at you now: managing director.’

Every year Greg and Henry had this discussion. Greg had joined the company as a graduate trainee. His excellent