LITMIR.BIZ

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reached out to shake his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Jem.’ He turned to Connie. ‘Don’t tell me you’re married too, Connie?’

      ‘Of course I am.’

      ‘Oh yes. I remember reading about it. After our summer you married one of your dad’s employees.’

      Connie looked crossly at him. ‘I married a man who loves me. He’s managing director of the company now.’

      ‘Is that so?’ He nodded his head slowly, his piercing eyes smiling sardonically. ‘Well, you did all right for yourself, didn’t you, eh?’

      Abigail couldn’t bear to be left out a moment longer. ‘Hi, I’m Abi. Connie’s daughter.’

      He turned his glittering gaze to her. ‘Well, well. You’re a beauty, aren’t you.’

      Connie snapped, ‘She’s not seventeen yet, Merlin.’

      Merlin laughed. ‘And so were you once, Con. So were you.’

      Jem, conscious that there was something rather uncomfortable about this encounter, felt a primeval urge to protect the women, though he wasn’t sure why.

      ‘My father and Uncle Greg are up at Atlantic House,’ he said loyally.

      Merlin shifted his gaze from Pru to this young boy with the beginnings of soft whiskers on his chin and hair gelled in the way the ‘up country’ kids seemed to favour.

      ‘Is that so?’ he drawled. ‘I’ll make sure I look out for them.’ He turned his attention back to the two sisters. ‘You’ve still got Atlantic House then?’

      Connie answered, ‘Yes.’

      ‘There are a few memories there, aren’t there?’ he said.

      ‘Come along, Connie, we must get back to the house.’ Pru was stuffing her towel into her beach bag.

      Merlin ignored her and sat himself down on the sand. Fishing in his shorts pocket, he brought out a bag of tobacco. ‘Stay a while longer. We’ve got catching up to do.’ He calmly set about rolling a cigarette. ‘Want one?’ He pushed the leather pouch towards Jeremy.

      ‘No thanks. I don’t smoke.’

      Merlin looked up at him and winked. ‘Not tobacco, anyway, boy. Eh?’

      ‘Jeremy’s only sixteen, Merlin. Don’t tease him,’ Pru scowled.

      ‘Oh, right.’ Merlin screwed up an eye as the wind blew smoke into it. ‘How about you?’ He was looking at Abi. ‘Or are you a good girl?’

      ‘How do you know my mum and my auntie Pru?’ asked Abi.

      Merlin took a deep drag on his cigarette and smiled.

      ‘Shall I tell her, girls?’

      ‘Merlin is an old friend of your mother’s and mine. We knew him when we were about your age, Abi. That’s all,’ said Pru with feigned disinterest.

      Merlin again raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s all?’ he smirked. ‘That wasn’t the way it seemed to me.’ He turned to Abi. ‘These two broke my heart. The prettiest girls on the beach – and they knew it.’

      ‘Tell me more,’ said Abi.

      ‘Hmmm.’ He looked at Connie and Pru and gave a sad smile. ‘I would, darlin’, but I think your mum and Auntie Pru might not want me to. Another time, eh?’

      ‘Yes, another time,’ said Connie.

      ‘Good idea,’ said Pru.

      Abi’s eye was caught by the sight of her father walking down the beach towards them. ‘Hey, Daddy!’ She waved. ‘Over here!’

      Merlin stood up. ‘Time I was off. Good to see you, girls. Catch you later.’ And he was gone.

      *

      Greg arrived hot and perspiring. He had on a white singlet vest and board shorts pulled low to reveal the back of his designer underpants.

      ‘Hey, kids. Hey, Con.’ He reached his wife and pulled her into a hug. ‘Jem, Abi – want to surf with me?’

      ‘Yeah. Love to. Great.’

      ‘Good,’ he replied. ‘Who was that guy you were talking to?’ He nodded towards the retreating back of Merlin.

      ‘Merlin Pengelly. One of Auntie Pru and Mum’s old boyfriends,’ said Abi.

      ‘Yeah? Which one, Con?’

      Connie and Pru studiously avoided looking at each other until Connie said, ‘He was one of a group of us who used to knock around together.’

      ‘Really?’ Greg smiled and held Connie closer. ‘Should I be jealous that he’s resurfaced?’

      He took another glance at the sauntering Merlin, who had reached the top of the beach. As if he knew he was being watched, Merlin turned and gave the family group a flamboyant salute before disappearing from view.

      ‘Golly, no!’ Connie hastily replied.

      ‘Good. He looks like a right prick.’

      *

      Back at the house, the freshly showered sisters started preparing supper.

      Connie was squirting a generous amount of tomato ketchup into Pru’s gently simmering bolognese sauce.

      ‘Do you know how much sugar there is in that poison?’ Pru tutted.

      ‘Sugar brings out the flavour of the meat and ketchup is good for you. I read it in the Daily Mail.’

      ‘And you believe everything you read in that rag, do you?’

      ‘The same way you believe everything in the Guardian, yes.’

      They carried on with their jobs, each silently distracted by their meeting with Merlin earlier.

      Pru broke the silence first: ‘I used to think that you and I had no secrets.’

      Connie paused momentarily as she was folding paper napkins. ‘We don’t, do we?’

      ‘You tell me.’

      Connie turned to face her sister, who was taking wine glasses down from a cupboard ‘Tell you what?’

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Merlin?’

      Connie swallowed hard and went on the attack. ‘Yawn yawn – ancient history.’

      ‘I agree, but I still can’t believe you could be so spiteful.’ Pru settled the glasses on the table and stood with her hands on her hips and an angry glint in her eye.

      ‘Spiteful?’ Connie retaliated quickly. ‘That’s something you’d know all about. Take the plank out of your own eye before you look at the splinter in mine.’

      ‘Not the old grudge about the blue bedroom again? Grow up!’

      Connie advanced on her sister, the kitchen table between them, ‘Don’t you ever speak to me like that again. You’ve got your own way in life at every turn.’

      ‘And you haven’t? I’ve worked hard for everything Francis and I have.’

      ‘Meaning what? That I’m an intellectual pygmy who’s never had a job?’

      ‘If the cap fits.’

      Connie moved fast around the table and stuck her face into Pru’s. ‘Say that again.’

      ‘Prudence. Connie. What is this racket?’ Dorothy had come through from the terrace.

      The girls backed away from each other and continued with their jobs.

      ‘Were you rowing?’

      There was no answer, but Dorothy knew her girls well enough

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