The Holiday Home Page 0,32

the mums (and some of the dads) of Jem’s playmates and school friends. He had been a regular at the Baby Times Coffee Morning Club, enjoying the discussions on breast-feeding versus bottle, postnatal depression and the relationship between parent and child. And he was chatty with the mothers at the school gates and in the PTA. But none of them had ever shown the slightest interest in him. Until Belinda.

She had turned up the previous year, at the beginning of September. It was the first sitting of the PTA after the summer holidays. Francis could still remember the moment Chairman Bob had announced: ‘Before we get down to the business of the day, I’d like to welcome a newcomer. This is Belinda …’

The PTA members had duly craned their necks for a glimpse of the voluptuous woman at the end of the table. She was wearing a psychedelic orange-and-pink kaftan. Her curly blonde hair was piled loosely on top of her head. Dangly earrings framed her chubby cheeks and as she smiled and gave them a little wave, bracelets jangled on her wrists.

‘Hello, everybody.’

Several male eyes had wandered to her delightful cleavage and remained there, transfixed.

Bob had continued: ‘Belinda’s daughter, Emily, has joined us for year nine. Is she fourteen this year, Belinda?’

‘Yes. That’s right. A little Piscean to my Scorpio.’

Somewhat bemused by this, Bob had ploughed on, ‘Belinda is very keen to help with admin and organising our fundraisers.’

‘Actually, I have an idea for a Halloween quiz night,’ she’d volunteered.

The dreaded Mrs Dredey, PTA stalwart, had interjected, ‘Well, we usually do a harvest supper, and we can’t do two fundraisers in one term. There wouldn’t be the support.’

‘Nonetheless, we’ll make a note of the suggestion. Fresh ideas always welcome,’ Bob had beamed, bending to his notepad to scribble: Belinda Halloween. He’d sat up again, ‘Now, I think it’d be a good idea if we all introduced ourselves round the table. You first, Mrs Dredey.’ Each of them had given their names in turn. Francis had been last: ‘My name’s Francis Meake. Welcome.’

Belinda had rewarded him with her twinkling smile. Since that night, she had made it her mission to sit next to him at meetings, pulling her chair as close to his as possible so that he could feel the heat emanating from her. She would bend low, delving in the handbag at her feet for a notepad and pen, all the while displaying her plumply rounded breasts for his benefit.

When tea and biscuits arrived, she would lean across him, tickling his cheek with her curly blonde hair and leaving wafts of her musky perfume in the air around him. While the committee embroiled themselves in some lengthy dispute over the roster for putting out the stackable chairs in the school hall and then putting them away again afterwards, she would put her lips to his ear and whisper little jokes about Chairman Bob and Mrs Dredey. Despite himself, Francis had found her intensely exciting. He loved being in her company. She had a saucy wit that made him laugh and she was interested in him – something he’d never encountered in a woman before. Soon he’d found himself telling her about all sorts of things, including Pru and the Carew family. She was easy company. Once, when he’d had an hour to kill between their PTA meeting and a trip to the dentist, Belinda had made a suggestion: ‘Why don’t you come to lunch at mine, Frankie? We’ve got two hours before we have to collect the kids, and I’ve got half a bottle of red and some asparagus quiche that needs eating up.’

‘Ah, very kind of you, but no,’ he’d said, with more determination than he’d felt. ‘I’d better not risk a ticking off from the dental hygienist!’

She had looked at him sadly, pouting a little. ‘Shame. Some other time, perhaps? There are so many things I’d like to talk to you about.’ She’d stepped closer, smiling, and dropped her voice an octave: ‘None of them involving flossing!’ Her rosy apple cheeks had moved up towards her eyes, making them twinkle.

He’d swallowed hard and a drop of saliva went down the wrong way. He had started to cough, and then couldn’t stop, gasping for breath and choking.

Immediately she’d whipped behind him, one arm round his waist while the other thumped a point between his shoulder blades. He had felt her warm bosoms jostling his back. She’d thumped a couple more times and eventually he had stopped spluttering