'That was wonderful. Well done you.'

'Cow.'

'Precisely. I can't wait to tell Mr O'Brien. It's made my day.'

'Mine too.'

We're laughing as Annabel storms past us, looking livid, with Mrs Nelson trotting along behind her.

Shame.

Mark has to head back to the pub to get ready for the evening rush, so Martin and Reg walk home with the kids and Trevor, and I drive back with Connie and Gran. She's made a summer pudding, and I've got cold chicken in the fridge so I've only got to make salads and boil some potatoes and we'll be set.

'Shall we eat in the garden?'

'Lovely, pet it'll be nice and cool under the big tree.'

The boys are having a lovely time in the garden while Nellie plays in the tent, and we drink tea in the kitchen and make the salads.

I've rinsed out the cool bag back we had at school and I'm putting it back in the boot of the car when I notice Martin is tied to a tree in the front garden, with what looks like Trevor's extendable dog lead.

'Having fun?'

'I'm a hostage.'

'Right.'

'Only I can't actually move my hands, and I think they've sort of forgotten I'm the hostage. You couldn't untie me?'

'Why didn't you shout?'

'They were only playing.'

'Martin.'

'I was too embarrassed. I thought I'd undo it and slope back into the house, but I've only made the knot tighter.'

The little swines have wrapped the lead round his legs and the tree trunk, and then round his hands before knotting it.

Archie comes thundering through the side gate.

'Mum, don't let him free he's our prisoner.'

I carry on unravelling dog lead.

'Don't be silly, Archie. You can't leave people tied to trees.'

Trevor's running round us now, barking.

'We'll tie you up next.'

'Oh no you won't, not if you want any pudding tonight.'

He tuts.

'Tea, Martin?'

'Please. Or possibly something stronger.'

'What, like for shock? Being taken hostage must have taken its toll.'

'I think I'd prefer it if we never mentioned this again, if you don't mind.'

'I'll think about it. What's it worth?'

'Sorry?'

'For me not to tell your mum horrible big boys tied you to a tree?' He shakes his head.

'I'm never going to live this down, am I?'

'All right, I promise, subject closed.'

'Great.'

'Come on, Houdini. You can help me lay the table.'

He sighs.

Supper is a triumph. We carry an odd assortment of chairs out into the garden, or rather Connie and Martin do, while Reg supervises. I've even found some candles, which we've stuck in plant pots, and Connie's sprinkled rose petals on the tablecloth.

There's an impromptu game of football after supper, and I'm having a quiet five minutes on the sofa before I make coffee; two helpings of summer pudding have put paid to there being any chance of me even managing to stand in goal.

When I wake up Gran's sitting knitting, and it's nearly dark.

'The boys are in bed, pet we didn't like to wake you. Reg has gone back with Martin to see the barn. Sounds like it's coming on a treat, doesn't it? And Connie says she'll call you tomorrow. I gave the boys a quick bath. Our Archie had ever so much ice cream in his hair I don't know how he does it.'

'Thanks, Gran.'

'Do you want a drink, pet?'

'Please. What are you knitting?'

'A blanket for the baby.'

'Who's had a baby?'

She looks at me.

'Oh, right. Great.'

'I'm making a few little things, so I can get ahead of myself.'

'That sounds good.'

That's what I need to be doing, getting ahead of myself instead of falling asleep on sofas when I've got people round for supper.

'Tea?'

'Lovely. I'll do it. You stay there.'

Tea, at the end of a perfect day, when I finally got to tell Annabel Morgan to piss off, without actually using the words piss off. How perfect is that?

Chapter Six.

August

Of Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax

The first week of the school holidays heralds the end of the heatwave, so I've been trying to think of things to do in the rain that don't involve spending money or watching twelve hours of television every day. Olivia's doing more days in the shop, and Betty's standing in for Elsie when she has her week in Spain, so it's all getting pretty complicated; and proper mothers have action-packed itineraries all worked out, with trips to museums with bloody worksheets prepared in advance, and all I've got is a new straw hat and some jelly shoes for the boys to wear in the sea. Still, we've made bread, and a rather disastrous fruit cake, and taken Trevor for damp walks on the beach, and by yesterday I was so desperate I even agreed to a treasure hunt, and had to spend ages writing out clues, which I'm crap at, followed by a mammoth post-treasure-hunt-putting-things-back-in-drawers session after Archie got a bit overenthusiastic. But at least all the towels are now neatly folded in the airing cupboard and Jack's favourite Batman pyjamas have resurfaced.

Today is almost sunny, so we've got high hopes for today. Archie's already wearing his snorkel: one of the great things about having a beach hut, or rather Gran having one, is that you can head off for a picnic without having half a hundredweight of assorted bags slung round your neck, while you try to carry fishing nets and buckets and spades without poking anybody's eye out. Jack's filling a carrier bag with plastic soldiers but everything else we need is already in the hut, apart from lunch, which I'm about to make: polenta and sun-dried tomatoes in a balsamic dressing anybody? Or possibly Babybels and KitKats.

Ellen calls while I'm buttering rolls.

'How's it going, darling?'

'It's the school holidays how do you think it's going?'

'On a scale of one to ten?'

'A hundred and forty-eight.'

'What are you doing for your birthday? Shall I come down?'

'I thought a picnic on the beach and a barbecue.'

'In Broadgate?'

'Don't sound so shocked.'

'What if it rains?'

'Then it'll be a picnic and barbecue in my kitchen.'

'I can't wait. Okay, count me in. I'll bring Harry, if he's around. He's feeling pretty pleased with himself at the moment, now he's passed all his tests.'

'What tests?'

'Didn't I say? We had our appointment with the fertility guru, and everything's fine.'

'That's brilliant.'

'He says we should give it a year, relax and he's sure we'll get pregnant. God I hate the way they say that, we're pregnant. It's total bollocks. Or, we can start treatment now, and he'll relieve me of the ten grand and we can buy one instead.'

'That sounds hopeful.'

'I know, but a year, they've got to be joking. And now I don't know if I want one because I can't have one, if you know what I mean. What if I get pregnant and have it and then realise I'm not really up for it? Christ, I don't want to turn into a breeder just because I can. And trying to talk to Harry's a complete waste of time. He just says he wants what I want. As if I knew I'm so busy at work there's never time to think properly about anything. They're talking about me doing thirty-minute specials now.'

'That's great, Ellen.'

'Yes, but not if I'm in a fucking smock, it won't be.'

'Why don't you think about it when you're on your sailing week?'

'Luxury yachting, darling, please. I'm not climbing ropes, at least I hope I'm not.'

'Well, you'll have plenty of peace and quiet then.'

'I hate peace and quiet, but maybe. I'll have to do something it's driving me crazy. Oh, and see if you can get the Diva along to your birthday thing, and I can get an exclusive on Jean-Luc, would you?'

'Okay.'

'Really?'

'No.'

She laughs.

'Talk later, darling.'