Into the silence that followed this statement came Mary. 'Now, does anyone want some more coffee?' she said, wiping her hands on her apron. 'Eggs? Frank, how about you?'

'No - no, thanks,' Frank said. He smoothed his hands nervously along his muscular arms. He looked too big for the small seat, the cosy dining room.

'We're calling him Bowler Hat now, Mary,' Louisa said. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up, her long legs clad in a pristine pair of shorts, this time pale blue. She languidly stretched her arms above her head. 'Not Frank. It's too confusing.'

'Bowler Hat, eh?' said Mary, collecting up the empty scrambled egg dish. 'Right you are.'

When Miranda and Cecily were cleaning their teeth in the little sink in their room after breakfast, Miranda said carelessly, 'So, was Frank asking Louisa something a bit . . . rude, last night, Cec? Is that what you overheard?'

Cecily's mouth was full of toothpaste. She stopped, toothbrush in hand.

'Wha'?' she said. 'Something about sex.' Miranda mouthed the last word. 'Something she didn't want to do.'

Cecily bent over the sink and spat, and when she stood up again her small face was red. 'I wasn't eavesdropping. Honestly. I wasn't.'

'I know you weren't,' Miranda said. 'I don't think the Bowler Hat's very nice,' Cecily said. 'What

did he do?'

'Well.' Cecily spoke in a whisper, and turned the square tap so the water was running. 'I was watching them, because I heard them say my name. I had the windows open 'cause I couldn't sleep.

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They were sitting on the floor, and he . . .' She paused. 'Oh, my goodness.'

'What?' said Miranda, nearly mad with curiosity. 'He . . . well, he put his hand on her . . . chest.'

'Oh. Is that it?'

'Miranda!'

'Come on, Cecily. You're such a baby!' Miranda turned the tap off. 'What did Louisa do?' 'She pushed him away,' Cecily said. 'Quite hard.' 'What did he do then?'

'He asked some other stuff. I'm not saying.' She was bright red now. 'And he was angry. He said, "For God's sake, Louisa. Don't be so frigid."'

'Gosh,' said Miranda. 'The Bowler Hat is really Stewart Granger. Who'd have thought it?'

'He isnot Stewart Granger.' Cecily was furious at this impugning of her idol. 'Stewart Granger is tall and handsome, and a gentleman. And Frank is . . . tall. That's it.'

'Oh, he's handsome. And I think he's rather sweet, in a buttoned-up way,' Miranda said, musing, looking out of the window. 'And the brother, too.'

Cecily frowned. 'Oh, goodness,' Miranda said in irritation, turning round and catching her sister's expression. 'Do grow up a bit, Cecily. You're such a baby. Life's not like bloody boarding school, you know. One of these days you'll realise it's normal for men and women to want to be with each other, you know.' She looked in the mildew-spotted mirror above the sink and ran one finger carefully over a silken dark eyebrow. 'It's going to be hot again today. Very hot. I hope the others don't get hideously sunburnt at the beach.' She smiled at Cecily, and ran one hand over her smooth, coffee-coloured skin. 'Have you ever kissed a boy?'

'Me?' Cecily said pointlessly. 'No.' She turned away. 'Stop making everything about boys and girls, Miranda.'

'That's what life is about, Cec darling,' Miranda said. 'Look at Mummy, flirting with every man that comes her way. Look at Louisa, sticking her bum out at the Bowler Hat, like she's an ape in the zoo -even you, Cecily dear. It'll happen to you one day—'

'You're vile,' Cecily said, pushing past her. 'I'm not listening. Stop it.'

She picked up her swimming costume and threadbare towel, and ran downstairs.

The path down to the sea from the house was narrow, impassable in winter. Every Easter, the overgrown brambles that threatened to strangle the high hedgerows were cut away. In late July, the brambles had crept back, tangled together with goosegrass, wild roses and ivy and croaking with grass­hoppers. Cecily led the way, followed by Guy and Frank. Louisa and Jeremy said they'd pack up the hamper.

'It's only eleven, and it's baking already,' Cecily said. She jumped over a trailing bramble. 'The sea will be gorgeous, it's lovely and warm but it doesn't get too hot. We went to Italy a couple of years ago,' she added airily, 'and already by now the Mediterranean is like a bath. So warm and soupy, it's disgusting.' 'Where in Italy?' Guy asked. 'I'm going in August, for a month.'

'I love Italy, you are lucky,' Cecily said. 'We went to Florence, and Siena, and then on to the Tuscan coast. I wasn't actually there with friends, you know. Daddy was doing a lecture,' she explained.

'I understand,' said Guy gravely. 'But I want to go back one day. When I'm a student myself.' She slowed down a little, and turned back to look at Guy. 'I want to travel all over Europe. I've drawn a map of where I'm going to go.' She stopped. 'Here's the path. It's a bit tricky, so be careful.'

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The steps were only a couple of feet wide, through the cliffs. 'Good God,' Frank said, as they started climbing down. 'I'm a bit unsteady.' He looked back. 'Will Louisa be all right, carrying that huge great hamper down the steps?' he asked.

'Oh, she'll be fine,' Cecily said blithely. 'She's been doing that walk since she was a toddler, Bowler Hat. Calm down.'

But Frank said he'd stay back and carry the hamper with Jeremy, so Cecily and Guy carried on

down.

'Ye gods and little fishes!' Guy exclaimed, when they reached the bottom. He rubbed his head. 'This is all ours? You're sure?'

Cecily ran across the sand. 'It's not strictly speaking our own beach, but who else comes down here? No one!' She grinned at him, holding her hair back from her face. 'Isn't it wonderful?'

'It's great,' Guy said, setting down his pack. 'Everything here is great.' He smiled at her. 'I don't know how you can bear going back to school, when you live in a place like this.' His gaze roamed back towards the fields. 'And your parents are marvellous people, too. So interesting, so relaxed.'

Her smile grew a little more rigid. 'I suppose. So what are your parents like?' she asked.

'Oh, you know.' Guy sat down on one of the huge black rocks. 'They're more Bowler Hat than . . . than your parents. Very correct. Think Weybridge is the centre of the universe. Very kind, rather strict.' He grimaced, a bit helplessly. 'We don't often see eye to eye, put it that way. They certainly don't watchTI/l/3. And as for discussing the Profumo scandal . . .' He laughed. 'My goodness, if they had a daughter like you and she knew some of the things you know I think they'd have a heart attack.'

Cecily was picking up stones, but she stood up at this and looked at him. 'Why?' she said simply. 'What's wrong with a daughter like me?'

'Nothing,' Guy said, shaking his head at her. 'Absolutely nothing. You're not like most other girls, that's all. You think for yourself, not for others. It's great. Well, I think so, anyway.'

'That doesn't sound very alluring,' Cecily said, scratching her arm. 'Girls don't want to be told they're a bit odd, Guy. I jolly well hope you don't say that to girls at Oxford. No wonder you've had to tag along with your brother for the holidays, if that's the way you normally speak to your hosts.'

Guy gave a shout of laughter. 'Come here, you vile child,' he said, getting up and racing towards her. He grabbed her and tickled her, pinning her arms above her head while she screamed.

'Stop it!' she cried breathlessly, but he carried on. 'Stop it, Guy, stop it!' Suddenly her mood changed, as if she wasn't finding it funny any more. 'Get off.'

She leapt up. 'I'm sorry,' Guy said, standing up, breathing hard. 'Cecily - sorry, I didn't mean—'

'It's fine,' she said, and moved away from him, towards the sea.

Louisa appeared at the bottom of the steps. 'Here,' she called, as Jeremy and Frank emerged behind her, gingerly carrying the hamper. They were followed by Archie, who was wearing tortoiseshell sunglasses. Louisa looked at Cecily and Guy in a rather disapproving manner. 'You're making such a racket, you two.'

Cecily turned away, biting her lip, as Frank lifted the hamper clear above his head and carried it the last few steps onto the beach. 'Whew,' he said, laying it down on the sand. 'That path is pretty hair-raising.'

'Thanks, Frank,' Louisa said, glancing at him. 'Now, what have we got in here?' She knelt down on the ground, and he gently pulled her head towards his crotch as she opened the hamper. Her fingers fumbled on the leather straps as Frank stroked her hair, softly, looking down at her flaxen blonde crown, his fingers working their way through her scalp. 'Um,' Louisa said, faltering. 'Well—'

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'Is there anything other than ham for lunch?' a voice behind her said, and Miranda stepped onto the beach, in a bathing suit of blue and white vertical stripes that accentuated every bump and curve of her body. She gave Archie a half-wave. 'It's just I don't really like it, especially the way Mary cures it. It's awfully soapy.'

'Yes,' said Louisa, not blinking. 'There's tomato, with some lettuce and mustard.'

'Oh,' said Miranda, her expression unreadable behind her large black sunglasses. She shrugged her shoulders. 'Well, that's fine. I'll just pick out the tomatoes.'

Louisa opened her mouth, but Jeremy said hurriedly, 'Thanks so much, Louisa, that all looks wonderful. Anyone fancy a game of rounders before lunch?'

'Games?' said Miranda. She spread her towel delicately on the sand. 'Oh, no, thanks. I'm going to sunbathe. And read myPrivate Eye.' She lay down, leaning up on her elbows, and, making a tiny moue with her lips, produced a magazine from a canvas bag.

Cecily opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it rapidly again. Louisa gave a loud snort. 'How amusing,' she said. 'Let me know if you need any explanatory notes. Or let Guy know, rather.'

Frank cleared his throat. 'Louisa,' he said, placatory. 'Why don't we go for a walk along the path? We can play rounders later.'

'Yes, please,' Louisa said. She looked up at him and smiled. 'I'd love that.' She took his hand.

'Let's go.'

They disappeared up the steps. Miranda looked around. 'Oh, has Louisa gone off to play with Frank?' she said, after a moment. 'I was hoping she'd get me a drink. He's forgiven, I take it.'

'Miranda,' Archie said, under his breath. 'Stop it.' He turned to the others and rocked on his feet. 'We can play rounders with four, can't we? Improvise a bit?'

'Of course,' said Guy. He looked up at the path and then back at Miranda. 'Sure you won't play, Miranda?'

'Oh.' Miranda was rather trapped. 'Um - no, thanks, Guy dear. I think perhaps later? I do so want to read myPrivate Eye.'

'I feel sorry for Miranda,' Cecily said, as the four of them moved across to where the beach was smooth. 'It must be awful, being so bad at whatever it is she's trying to be.'

'Shut up, Cecily,' Archie said automatically. 'You don't know what you're talking about.' He spun the cricket bat around in his hand. 'Hi! Leighton, Jeremy, what do you say we play cricket instead? I fancy trying out my new fast bowling technique. It puts Wes Hall to shame.'

'Great idea,' said Jeremy, whose bulky frame was better suited to rugby than cricket. 'Cecily, do you want to bat?'

'Yes, I do,' Cecily said. 'Miss Moore said I was a great batswoman this term. I've really come on, apparently. Perhaps I'll play for England one day.'

The three men were silent. She looked at them, smiling slightly.

'Oh, sorry, I forgot. I'm a girl. How ridiculous of me.'

'Right,' said Archie, handing her his bat. 'Show us what you're made of.'

A rather hilarious game of cricket ensued, as Cecily demonstrated on a tiny pitch that she was, in fact, a talented batsman. The tennis ball landed in the sea so many times the game had an extra added spin to it, but this did not daunt Cecily in the slightest.

'My hand-and-eye co-ordination is excellent,' Cecily said immodestly, when Guy congratulated her. She smiled at him. 'I've often been told so. I'm remarkable.'

'So I can see,' Guy told her. He looked up at Louisa and Frank, back from their walk. 'Hi, you two.'

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'Where did you go?' Archie asked, as Louisa opened the hamper.

'Oh, just around, up along the rocks,' Louisa said. 'There are loads of tourists on the beach behind us.' She lifted out a large package wrapped in greaseproof paper. 'Isn't this fun, a picnic like this on the beach?' She gave a great contented sigh. 'Oh, it's lovely when everything's lovely. Here are the sandwiches,' she said, suddenly practical Louisa again. 'Frank, can you give them out?'

'Of course.'

'We walked pretty fast,' Louisa went on. 'It's lovely, there's a good breeze when you're up on the path. I saw a lovely flower, quite unusual. What did we think it was, Frank?'

'You thought it might be a Meadow Cranesbill,' Frank said. 'Wow,' said Miranda, gingerly inspecting the pile of sandwiches Frank was offering her. 'Fascinating. What japes.'

After lunch, Jeremy, Frank and Louisa lit cigarettes, and sat back. The occasional light spray of water hit them, but otherwise everything was still.

'I want to get as boiling as possible, and then dive into the sea,' said Cecily, closing her eyes and stretching out. 'So that my skin feels hot to the touch.' She slid one slim leg across a smooth black stone. 'It burns!' she said.

'It's great,' Frank said. 'We could be in Greece. Or India.'

'Or France, it gets jolly hot in France,' Jeremy said. 'I want to go to India one day,' Cecily said. 'Go and see where Daddy's from. Except it's Pakistan now, Lahore.'

'I want to go to India,' Guy said. 'Some friends of mine thought they'd go after they've come down from Oxford.'

The others were silent. 'It's a long way,' said Louisa eventually.

'Well, but we've got the rest of our lives,' Guy said easily. 'I want a bit of adventure before I settle down. In ten years' time, I'll be a boring old something-or-other. I want to be able to look back and say, "Oh, yes. I did that." Before I go back to sleep by the fire.'

'You'll never be a boring old something-or-other, Guy,' Frank told his brother. 'I will be. Not you. You'll be living in a flat on the Left Bank, wearing a beret and smoking Gitanes, talking about the summer you spent with Arvind Kapoor.'

Guy gave a short laugh. 'The Bowler Hat's right,' Louisa said. 'You'll be up at the Moulin Rouge every night, hanging out with cancan dancers and drinking absinthe—'

'I say, when is this?' Guy said, amused. '1890? Is Toulouse Lautrec my best friend?'

Louise looked rather stumped. 'Oh, I don't know,' she said.

'Where will you be in ten years, then?' Guy asked her. 'Not one of the cancan dancers, I'll bet, Louisa. Not you.'

'Oh. I don't know. Where do you think I'll be?'

Guy put his coffee cup down and stared out to sea. 'I think you'll be in New York, running the

UN.'

'Oh, Guy! Come off it!' Louisa said. 'He's right,' Frank said. 'I think you will.' 'Yes,' said Archie. 'Hundreds of men underneath you. You'd like that, Louisa.' 'Shut up, Archie, you little pig,' Louisa said. 'I didn't mean—'

'God, you're vile, you really are.' Guy and Frank watched her, puzzled. She turned her back on

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Archie and swivelled round to face Frank. 'You don't think that, really, do you?'

Frank was still staring at Archie in confusion, but he stopped and wrinkled his nose. 'Don't know, but I can imagine it, Louisa. You're a terribly organised girl. Awfully clever, much more than me. You're a real go-getter.'

'Well, I don't know if I want to be a go-getter,' Louisa said archly. She seemed a little disturbed by this. 'Perhaps I just want to be at home. Have some children, look after them. Be a good wife.'

'Urgh.' Cecily made vomiting sounds behind her. 'Please, Louisa.'

'You could do both, you know,' Guy said. Louisa looked at him blankly.

'What about you?' she said, gently nudging Frank. 'Where do you think you'll be in ten years' time? What will you be doing?'

'Oh. Um.' Frank looked uncomfortable. 'Don't know.' He picked at the embroidered logo on his polo shirt. 'Sounds rather boring, if you say it out loud.'

'Say it,' Guy said quietly. 'It's not boring, old man, not if you really want it.'

Frank stretched his arms above his head, faux-nonchalantly, and said, 'Well, it's not much, really. Think about having a nice house somewhere. With a little drive, some hedges.'

'Hedges?' Cecily said, almost in disbelief. 'Why—' Guy nudged her.

'And you know - I'd have qualified as a chartered surveyor. Be working at a good company. I'd get the train into town every day. Work with some nice chaps. I suppose, I never thought about it much. And - and well,' he said, getting into his stride. 'There'd be a . . . a family at home for me when I got

back.'

'You really are the last of the great romantics, Bowler Hat,' Cecily said. 'Who is this family, a load of gypsies you've welcomed into your home?'

Frank took Louisa's hand. 'No,' he said, squeezing her fingers. 'My own family. My wife, and our children.'

There was a silence as the others digested this and Louisa's eyes shone.

'If she's back from work, of course,' added Frank, breaking in again. 'Er - she might still be working, of course. Perhaps we'd even get the train back together,' he said, really into his stride now.

Cecily got up. 'I'll buy you both matching bowler hats for the wedding,' she said. 'Goodness, I got you quite wrong, didn't I?' She stretched herself out, languorously. 'What about you, Archie?'

'Don't know,' Archie said simply. His eyes roamed round. 'Here's Miranda.' He called out to his approaching sister, 'You going for a swim?'

'I thought so, yes. I'm boiling. Come in?'

'Sure,' said Archie. 'Miranda's a brilliant swimmer.'

'She's pretty amazing, actually,' Cecily told Guy. 'She can do a somersault in the air off the diving board at school. She swims like a fish. It's—' She stopped as Miranda reached them.

'Are you talking about me?' Miranda said suspiciously. 'Yes,' Cecily said. 'Just saying what a great swimmer you are.'

'Don't lie,' Miranda said. 'We were! Weren't we?' Cecily said, turning to Guy. 'What about you, Miranda?' Guy asked. 'Where do you think you'll be in ten years' time? What will you be doing?'

Miranda looked taken aback. 'I'm going to be running the UN,' Louisa said. 'Guy's going to be living on the Left Bank wearing a beret, Frank's going to be wearing a bowler hat and going into the City every day and Jeremy, we didn't do you, or you, Cec.'

'Oh, I'm boring,' Jeremy said. 'I'll be a doctor. I know what I want to be.'

'That's wonderful.' Cecily looked at him with adoration. 'Archie, what about you?' Miranda

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asked her brother quickly.

'I don't know,' said Archie helplessly. 'I'd like to live in a hotel. You know, Monte Carlo or somewhere. Drive a fast car, see a bit of life.' He crossed his arms. 'But I'd be successful. Have my own business, selling cars or something. Studying's a waste of time.'

'But you're going to Oxford, I thought,' Cecily said. 'No, I'm not.' Archie shrugged. 'Don't see the point. Whole world out there full of fun and excitement, I'm not going to moulder away in some old building for three years studying things people don't care about any more.'

'But—' Cecily's mouth dropped open. 'Did you know that, Miranda?'

'He can do what he wants,' Miranda said. 'But have you told Mummy and Dad?'

'Cross that bridge when I come to it,' Archie said, turning his face to the sun and closing his eyes.

'So that's the plan,' Cecily said, nodding at him. She looked at her brother and sister, from one to the other. 'Right. Well, it's none of my business.'

Louisa, ignoring this exchange, said, 'What about you, Miranda?'

Miranda shrugged her slim shoulders. 'Never really thought about it,' she said, adjusting the rubber strap around her goggles which were on her head.

'You don't know what you want to do yet?' Louisa said. Miranda turned on her, and said vehemently, 'Oh, shut up, Louisa. Just because you're perfect and know exactly what's going on with your stupid boring life. Leave me out of it. I don't know, I tell you. I'm not good at anything, and that makes it rather hard.'

'You must be good atsomething,' Guy said, not unkindly. 'Well, I'm not,' Miranda said flatly. 'I'm ugly. I'm too thin, too hairy, too stupid to go to university. The only things I like doing are buying clothes, and sunbathing and swimming, and last time I checked you couldn't do that as a job. I'm the lame duck of the family, and I know you all despise me. So - so just . . . just fuck off.'

She spat out the last three words and stalked off towards the sea, leaving Archie to run after her.

'Poor girl,' Frank said, watching her costume-clad figure as she slid into the blue-green sea.

'Oh, she'll be fine,' Cecily said, with a sister's impatience. 'She just wants to go to finishing school and learn how to get out of cars properly and she's furious Mum and Dad won't let her.'

'How do you get out of cars properly?' Guy asked, intrigued. 'No idea but we're all doing it wrong apparently,' Cecily said. 'She'll learn, and teach us, and then she can marry a rich husband and spend all day in Harrods buying all the dresses she wants. I suppose that might make her happy.' But she didn't sound sure.

Jeremy nodded. Louisa was silent. The little group was still, for a moment, watching the twins as they bobbed in and out of the clear water.

'What about you?' Guy asked Cecily. 'What will you be doing in ten years?'

'Thank you for finally asking, Guy.' Cecily pointed one foot delicately in front of her. 'Working on the script of the film of my best-selling novel about Mary Queen of Scots,' she said. 'Living in Hollywood with Stewart Granger. Buying my second silver Rolls Royce because the first one will be worn out with driving me to film premieres and parties. And eating all the cream eclairs I want.' She stood up. 'OK?'

'Yes,' said Guy, taken aback. 'You've worked it out, haven't you?'

'Oh, absolutely,' Cecily said pragmatically. 'But I'll have time to go to India with you before, if you want. Come on, let's swim.'

Chapter Sixteen

That night, at dinner, a party atmosphere set in. Perhaps it was because of the sun but it became clear, when they gathered on the terrace that evening, that there was something in the air. The holiday was real, it was happening. It was theirs to enjoy.

Yes, they were all on good form that evening. Louisa, like Grace Kelly in a blue Grecian dress, shyly touching Frank's hand; Frank, tall and more assured dressed for dinner in a jacket, shirt and trousers than he ever was in shorts, dutifully meeting Louisa's smiles. Miranda, the last one down, eventually appeared modelling another of her recent purchases, a crisp cotton black and white gingham shift, with a sash tie behind, her hair pushed back with a black silk Alice band.

Her mother stared at her, Frank and Guy swallowed, and Cecily whistled.

'Wow, you look great, Miranda,' Jeremy said. He stared at her with admiration. 'You look like a film star. Doesn't she, Franty?'

Frances nodded. 'Absolutely. You're like a swan, darling.' Guy whistled. 'Why, Miss Kapoor, you're ravishing,' he said, in a terrible American accent.

'Thank you so very much, darling,' Miranda said, in a husky film-star voice. There was a little throb in her throat, almost as if she was nervous. 'So very kind of you. So kind.' She accepted a drink from Jeremy. 'You look lovely tonight, Louisa,' she said in a loud voice.

Louisa, visibly touched, still looked startled. 'Oh, Miranda . . . thank you.'

'No one has complimented me on my dress,' said Arvind, who was sitting in a chair on the edge of the terrace, admiring the sunset. 'No one has said, How nice you look today, Arvind.'

'Daddy, you look ravishing,' Miranda said, wanting to bestow compliments on everyone now. 'Mummy, you too.'

'Very heartfelt, Miranda,' Frances said drily. 'I'm not quite ready for the bath chair and the nursing home yet, you know.'

'Mother,' said Miranda, in a wheedling tone. 'Can I ask you a huge favour, please?' 'Er—' Frances said. 'What is it?'

'Can we put on the Beatles? Please? Your record player's so much better than the one upstairs.'

Louisa clapped her hands. 'Oh, Aunt Frances, please. I think you'd really like it,' she said. It was so far the only thing Miranda and Louisa had found they had in common.

'I know it very well,' Frances said drily. 'I've heard that dratted album wafting down the stairs about ten times a day for the past week. And over Easter. I'm sick of it.'

'Oh, go on,' Miranda pleaded. She drank some more of her gin and tonic. 'Listen to it properly. Please. Please Please Me!' she said, and Frances laughed, and unbent.