room. Connie was trying to sober up and Pru had got her laptop out and was doing some work.
Greg helped load the dishwasher then took a gin and tonic into the drawing room and settled down to have a quiet read of the paper.
The door banged open, shattering his peace, and Abi entered. ‘Daddeee?’ she wheedled, plonking herself down on the sofa next to her father.
‘Hmmm?’ He turned the page noisily and refused to look at her.
‘You know it’s my birthday in a couple of weeks?’
‘Is it? I really don’t remember.’
Abi smacked his arm. ‘Yes you do! Don’t be so mean.’
Greg rubbed his arm. ‘What do you want, you ungrateful child?’
Abi brightened. ‘A party.’
‘Well, I’m sure your mother will organise the usual.’
‘That’s the problem.’ She pouted. ‘I don’t want the usual pizza and soft drinks on the lawn, everyone collected by nine thirty. I want a proper party. On the beach. No adults.’
‘No.’
‘But, Dad …’
‘No.’
‘I’m seventeen.’
‘And?’
‘I’m almost eighteen.’
‘That maths tutor is worth his weight in gold.’
‘I’ll ask Mummy. She’ll say yes.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’
‘When she was young, she had parties on the beach, with Auntie Pru. They shared a boyfriend. We met him on the beach today.’
Greg looked at Abi. ‘What, that bloke on the beach with the long hair?’
‘Yep. Merlin.’
‘Oh good God! There’s nothing sadder than an old hippy on the pull.’
‘I thought he was rather hot … for an old man.’
‘Do I look like an old man?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Well, you are, like, over forty or something.’
‘Thank you again.’
‘Mummy and Auntie Pru went all mysterious about him.’
‘Did they? In what way?’
‘They went all secretive. I mean, he did look quite hot.’
‘Did Mummy say that?’
‘She didn’t have to.’ Abi smirked.
Greg thought for a moment. ‘Don’t be so silly. And by the way, you’re not having a party on the beach.’
*
‘Muuum.’
‘Yes, Abi? And don’t throw yourself on my bed. I’ve just tidied up.’
‘Can I have a party for my birthday?’
‘Of course. We always have a party for your birthday. I was thinking one of Dad’s barbecues …?’
‘I was thinking one on the beach, no oldies.’
‘Oh, darling, Granny and Poppa will have to come. They’d be terribly hurt if they weren’t invited.’
‘Why don’t you and Dad take them out for dinner instead?’
It dawned on Connie that she, too, was now classed as an oldie. She absorbed the blow.
‘You mean, instead of me and Daddy coming to your party?’
Abi nodded.
‘No way, young lady. The beach and boys and booze is absolutely out of bounds. I’m aware what goes on, you know. I’m not so old that I can’t remember these things.’
Abi perched on the bed. ‘Go on then, you dark horse. Tell me what you got up to.’
‘Nothing.’ Connie grabbed a pair of Greg’s shorts and started to fold them.
‘Yes, you did! You and Auntie Pru had a big old rosy glow round you both when you saw old whatsisname today.’
‘His name is Merlin. An old friend.’
‘I think you had the hots for him, and I reckon he still fancies you.’
Connie couldn’t stop the flush creeping up her throat. She sat at her dressing table and started to brush her hair. ‘Don’t be so silly.’
‘That’s what Dad said when I told him.’
Connie spun on the dressing table stool. ‘You told your father that you think I fancy Merlin?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Well, guess what: you are sort of not having a party on the beach. OK?’
*
Next door in the master bedroom, Pru had had to forgo her bedtime bath due to the slow heating of the hot-water tank, but Francis, feeling much better now, was mixing some massage oil for his wife’s back.
‘What’s that smell, Francis?’
‘I’m burning lavender oil. For relaxation.’
‘Oh.’
Pru went to the bathroom to undress, wash and then clean her teeth. She looked at herself in the mirrored wall over the bath. Breasts small and still high. A few stretch marks on the tummy, but her hips were as narrow as ever. She shut her eyes and remembered how Merlin used to kiss her. How he’d admired her flat chest when she was so self-conscious about it. She remembered his body – how good it felt.
‘Come on, Pru, darling. This is going to help you sleep,’ Francis called from the bedroom.
Pru opened her eyes and saw her face as Merlin must have seen it today. A few lines, skin beginning to sag round the jaw. She stepped back into the bedroom and attempted a slow, undulating walk towards her husband. Maybe sex would do them both good. Francis looked at her.
‘Your back must be bad – it’s affecting your walk, love. Come on. Lie down and I’ll sort that out for you.’
As Pru lay under the kneading fingers and warm oil, she tried to keep all thoughts of Merlin out of her head.
