The Holiday Home by Fern Britton

Author:Fern Britton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harper Collins
Published: 2013-05-09T07:00:00+00:00

16

Francis unpacked the shopping and put the lobsters in the salad compartment of the fridge to quieten them down. Then he made a large pot of tea and went out into the hall. ‘Anyone for tea?’ he shouted up the stairs. ‘It’s in the kitchen. Come and get it.’

Greg came out of the rumpus room looking sly. ‘Hello, old man. How did lunch go with B?’ he whispered.

Francis, not liking this subterfuge, said, ‘Fine. How was your phone call?’

Greg rolled his eyes in rapture as an answer.

‘Did Pru wonder where I was at lunchtime?’ asked Francis.

‘No. I told her the truth. Belinda had taken you shopping for supper.’

‘Why did you tell her that?’ Francis hissed.

‘The truth is always best.’ Greg looked up as Connie and Pru descended the stairs. ‘Hello, girls. Golly, you look as if you could do with a cuppa.’

Connie pushed her fringe out of her eyes with the back of her rubber-gloved hand. ‘Pru and I have finished upstairs. The last lot of clean curtains are up. How did your phone call go with Janie?’

Francis looked sharply at Greg, who seemed completely relaxed.

‘All fine. She wanted to run a few things past me and there were plenty of things I needed her to do for me.’

Connie gave him a hug. Over the top of her head, Greg gave Francis a wink as he mouthed, ‘The truth, see.’

Pru walked through the middle of them all, clanging her bucket and mop. ‘Good of Belinda to take you to the shops, Francis. Did you get everything we need?’

‘Yes. Sorry I wasn’t here to prepare lunch.’

‘No problem. Greg did pretty well as a one-armed sandwich maker. Cheese and pickle.’

Greg winked at Francis again. ‘See, old man. Nothing to it.’

Francis relaxed. ‘Well done on completing the spring clean, girls. I see you’ve managed to get a tarpaulin on the hole in the roof.’

‘Yes,’ said Pru. ‘The weather forecast is looking a bit iffy, so I had to ask Merlin to do that. I’ll find a proper roofer tomorrow.’

They moved into the kitchen and helped themselves to tea and slices of shop-bought Madeira cake.

Dorothy appeared at the back door with Henry’s iPad in her hand. ‘How do I turn this on?’

Connie laughed. ‘Mummy, I showed you the other day.’

‘No you didn’t. I would remember if you had.’

‘I did. But, anyway, if it’s to find a chandelier cleaner, I think you’ll find we don’t need one. Come into the hall and look.’

Connie got up and escorted Dorothy into the hall. The afternoon sun was slanting through the mullioned windows either side of the front door and glinting on the glass drops. The hall was lit with the refracted sparkles of light.

‘Oh, darling!’ Dorothy clasped her hands in front of her chest. ‘You’ve beaten me to it! Doesn’t it look wonderful? Who did you get to do it so quickly?’

Connie smiled. ‘A marvellous company: Johnson and Johnson. They have all the specialist gear. I’ve some left over, if you want it.’

‘Ooh, yes please, darling.’

‘They’re in the kitchen.

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