I’ll drive.’
Connie, looking horrified, gave Greg a poke. ‘Tell Pru what we have planned.’
‘Ah, well,’ said Greg. ‘You see, Connie and I were hoping to head to Polperro and have lunch in a little place that’s rather special to us.’
‘That’s a marvellous idea,’ said Pru. ‘Francis and I haven’t been to Polperro for years. Let’s go.’ And she was out in the hall collecting her keys and bag before they could stop her.
*
Dorothy twitched her net curtains. ‘They’ve gone. Pru’s driving. She always reminds me of Cruella De Vil when she gets behind the wheel.’
Henry laughed. ‘They deserve a day out. Weather’s looking fantastic for the next few days. I hope it holds for Abi’s party.’
‘Me too. I’m amazed she’s found herself a job. And Jem too.’
Henry nodded. ‘Good for them, I say. Character building. Children have it all handed to them on a plate these days. They’ll know the value of a five-pound note after this summer.’
Dorothy moved away from the window and sat opposite Henry in a matching armchair. ‘This is a different world to the one we grew up in. The grandchildren think we had dinosaurs for pets.’
‘Oh, I’m old-fashioned, I know. But those values still hold good.’
‘Not so old-fashioned …’ She hesitated. ‘After all, isn’t making an honest woman of me one of those values?’
Henry looked uncomfortable, the pattern on the carpet suddenly catching his interest. ‘Don’t start that again. Besides, it’s a bit late in the day now, old girl.’
‘Maybe.’ Dorothy twisted the ring on the third finger of her left hand. ‘I would have liked to arrive at the pearly gates with everything settled, though.’
‘Don’t you worry, St Peter will have you down as just that in his ledger.’
‘Mmm.’
They both sat and looked at each other.
‘I’m only glad neither of us will be around when the girls find out,’ said Dorothy.
‘They’re mature women. They’ll take it in their stride.’
The doorbell gave a cheerful ding-dong. ‘Now who the hell is that?’ sighed Henry.
Dorothy stood up. ‘I’ll get it.’
Henry listened. He could hear a woman’s voice and Dorothy saying, ‘Come in, come in. I’m about to make coffee. Henry’s in the front room. Go on in and say hello.’
Henry moved his eyes to the door as Belinda poked her head in. He liked Belinda. Fun, uncomplicated and rather sexy. He got to his feet. ‘Hello, my dear. Please, take a seat.’
‘Hello, Mr Carew. I’ve just popped in to see if you or Mrs Carew want anything from the shops. Emily and I are going up a bit later.’ Emily came into the room. A tall and pretty but self-conscious teenager. ‘Hello, Mr Carew,’ she said in a quiet voice.
‘Hello, Emily. No need to be so formal. Everyone calls me Henry or Poppa. Which do you prefer?’
‘How nice,’ said Belinda. ‘May we call you Poppa?’ She caught Dorothy’s eye as the older woman elbowed her way through the door bearing a tray of coffee and shortbread. ‘Emily never knew her grandfathers.’
‘I’d be honoured.’ Henry smiled at Emily, who was taking a biscuit from the plate offered by Dorothy.
‘And you can call me Dorothy or Granny.’
‘Isn’t that lovely, Em?’ Belinda beamed at Emily, who was looking embarrassed.
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘It’s an honour, young lady. Tell me, have you ever played Lawyer, Lawyer?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, Henry, don’t be a bore. Emily doesn’t want to play board games, do you, dear?’
Emily, embarrassed, murmured, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you want to play,’ said Belinda. She looked at Henry, ‘You invented it, didn’t you?’
Henry laughed self-deprecatingly. ‘As a matter of fact, I did. Who told you?’
‘Francis did, ages ago. From what he said, you saved the family business from going under.’
‘Something like that,’ said Henry, getting to his feet. ‘So, Emily, do you fancy a game? I’ll teach you how to beat anyone.’
‘OK,’ said Emily, not exactly brimming with enthusiasm.
Henry got up and went to the conservatory, Emily trailing after him. ‘Come along then.’
Once the doors were safely closed, Dorothy smiled and said to Belinda, ‘They’ll be gone for at least an hour.’ She plumped up the cushion behind her back and settled down. ‘So, Belinda, tell me all about yourself.’
Belinda stirred a large spoonful of sugar into her coffee. ‘There’s not much to tell. Forty-something single mum. Struggling a bit to make ends meet. My cup’s always half-full, though – I try to focus on the positive.’
‘Quite so.’ Dorothy watched as Belinda helped herself to a biscuit. ‘What happened to Emily’s father?’
‘Oh, Brett’s still around. We’re good friends, as a matter of fact. But when he met Steve, he met the man of his dreams.’
It took a superhuman effort for Dorothy to prevent her carefully drawn eyebrows from going into orbit. ‘Steve?’
‘Yeah.’ Belinda took another biscuit. ‘It was a shock, naturally. I’d had no idea Brett was gay. I’d always counted myself lucky that I had such a kind husband with tremendous empathy.’ She wiped the crumbs from her bust so that they bounced off her skirt and on to Dorothy’s carpet. ‘And now I have Brett and Steve, so I am lucky, when you think about it.’
‘Oh dear.’ Dorothy was bemused. ‘Did your family help?’
‘Well, my mum was very understanding. My dad had abandoned her when I was a baby. Only in his case it was for another woman. We never heard from him again.’
Dorothy tutted. ‘How can men be so feckless when a child is involved?’ She leaned forward to offer Belinda the plate of biscuits.
‘Oh, thank you. These are delicious. It’s my breakfast.’
‘Would you care for some toast?’
‘No, no. This is lovely.’ Another crumb fell, but this time into Belinda’s cavernous cleavage. Dorothy wondered if, when Belinda stood up, it would work its way past her knickers and join its friends on her carpet.
‘So,
