right all right,’ she laughed, ‘I promise. But my presents had better be good.’
*
Greg was like a cat on hot bricks. He was so excited by the boat that was lurking on the other side of The Bungalow that he couldn’t sit down. He’d also had a few hot emails from Janie. He was missing her. He’d told her about the party and Abi’s Gale and she’d jokingly threatened to come and join the celebrations. What a hoo-ha that would make!
‘Is she up?’ Connie was beating some eggs.
‘Yep. On her way.’
‘Lay the table for me, would you?’
When Abi eventually made her entrance, the entire family were waiting for her. ‘Happy Birthday’ they shouted together. She was lost in a blizzard of hugs and kisses for a few minutes before being ushered to her place at the table. There were two balloons tied to her chair. One said ‘17’, the other ‘Birthday Girl’.
‘They’re from me,’ said Jem. ‘I got some funny looks cycling home with them yesterday.’
‘That wasn’t the balloons, Cuz,’ replied Abi drily, and everyone laughed.
Dorothy placed a narrow box wrapped in silver paper and tied with a purple ribbon, on her table mat. ‘This is from me and Poppa.’
Abi ripped apart the paper, opened the box and was suitably pleased with her gleaming new watch. ‘Cool, Granny. Thanks, Poppa. It’s lovely.’
‘Don’t lose it,’ said Connie.
Abi ignored her. ‘Next present please.’
Francis handed her a smart-looking envelope with Starfish written on it. ‘What’s this? A weekend away from you lot, in luxury?’ She opened it up and read: A one day cookery course in the preparation and cooking of fish dishes. Abi looked at her aunt and uncle with a small bright smile. ‘Lovely.’
‘And here is the antidote,’ said Pru, handing her another Starfish envelope. Abi opened it in trepidation. Her face lit up when she read the slip of paper inside: ‘A pamper day at the Starfish spa! Thanks, Auntie Pru!’
‘My pleasure,’ said Pru, clasping Francis’s crestfallen hand.
Connie plonked a huge dish of bacon, sausage, fried bread and scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. ‘Here we go – eat up. Toast is on its way.’
‘What about my present from you and Dad?’ asked Abi.
Greg, hampered by the cast and sling, did his best to clap his hands together and rub them joyfully. ‘After breakfast, miss!’
*
Greg had fashioned a blindfold out of a tea towel and had wrapped it over Abi’s eyes. He led her out into the garden and round to the side of The Bungalow. The rest of the family followed.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked Abi.
‘Yes.’
‘OK. Here we go. One, two, three—’ He whipped off the tea towel and Abi saw in front of her the boat tied with pink ribbons and balloons with Abi’s Gale in large gold letters on the back and side.
‘Oh my God!’ she squealed, running towards it. ‘Is it mine? Mine alone? No one else’s?’
‘All yours.’ Her father put his arm round her skinny shoulders and hugged her. ‘Mum wouldn’t let me buy you a car.’
‘Shut up, Greg,’ responded Connie. ‘Do you like it, love?’
‘I adore it! Poppa, will you take me out in it and teach me how to drive it?’
‘Of course. You’ll be a natural,’ said her grandfather. ‘Haven’t you been skippering the Dorothy since you were little?’
‘Can we go now?’ she pleaded.
‘Get dressed first,’ said Henry, looking at her standing in her shortie pyjamas.
‘OK! See you in fifteen!’ She turned and raced back to the house.
‘See. Told you she’d love it,’ crowed Greg to Connie.
‘Well, if nothing else it’ll keep her out of the way of the party preparations,’ Connie replied.
*
Connie was standing on the garden terrace of Atlantic House watching Abi skimming across the waves in her new boat, with Henry sitting next to her and bending his head away from the stinging spray they were whipping up and Greg sitting up front, posing with his sunglasses on his head.
‘Look at her. Poppa never let Pru or me touch the Dorothy, but he’s happy to take his life in his hands for his granddaughter.’
Belinda looked up from where she was sitting with a pile of pink tulle in front of her. ‘She’s having a ball. Come and sit down and help me with this stuff. It’ll take your mind off her.’ She passed Connie a quantity of pink fabric. ‘All you have to do is make a little frou-frou skirt and put some gathers in for the waist. We’ll sew the pink ribbon on as a waistband and voilà!’
Connie sat and took hold of the proffered netting. ‘How many do we have to make?’
‘As many as we can. And then we have the turquoise blue.’ She nodded towards a plastic bag at her feet.
Connie threaded a needle with pink cotton and together the women sewed in silence. After a few minutes, Belinda said, ‘It must be a great feeling to have a sister. Pru seems so much fun.’
‘Really? Well, we have our moments,’ replied Connie.
‘You can share so much. Secrets and laughter.’
‘Mmm.’
‘I’d have loved a sister.’
‘Are you an only child?’
‘Yes. And I grew up wishing for a family. You see, it was just me and Mum. I didn’t even have a father, let alone brothers or sisters.’
Connie didn’t know how to reply. She wasn’t really in the mood to hear about Belinda’s deprived childhood. The best she could manage was a subdued, ‘Oh,’ as she kept on sewing.
Belinda did a few stitches more and then looked up at Connie. ‘You’re so lucky to have the family you have. A loving dad. Money. This house.’
‘Mmm.’ Connie had turned to look out to sea to watch Abi and Henry again.
Belinda changed tack. ‘Frankie is a sweetie, isn’t he?’
Connie turned back with suspicion. Was Pru right? Did Belinda fancy Francis? ‘Er. Yeah. I suppose so. He’s a very good father.’
‘I think he’d make a wonderful partner.’
On Pru’s behalf,
