Edie smiled back. ‘You’ve been the perfect gentleman, as always, Albert,’ she assured him. ‘And we’d never have thought of you coming up here for breakfast if that coach trip last week hadn’t started so perishin’ early. But there you are, we’ve established a tradition and a very nice tradition it is too. In fact, I think we’ll keep it up even after Tess gets home.’

‘You’ll change your mind if she shows us a disapproving face,’ Albert cautioned. ‘Aren’t we lucky that it’s a brilliant day? I’ve packed a towel and my bathing shorts so we can have a dip in the briny. I take it you’ve done likewise?’

‘Oh, go away with you,’ Edie said, laughing. ‘You’d best see if you can catch the postman and collect your own mail, then we can read our letters together.’

She began to prepare the packed lunch which they would share, for though in the past they had preferred to eat in restaurants or cafés, because they were saving hard they now usually took sandwiches for midday. She was wrapping them in greaseproof paper when Albert returned, a little breathless after pursuing the postman and climbing the narrow stairway which led to the flat. He sat down at the table. ‘Three for you, all from house agents, a bill for me from my cigarette supplier, and one personal one each; yours from Tess and mine from Janine,’ he said. He handed her envelopes to Edie, opened his bill and pulled a face, then opened his daughter’s missive and sighed. ‘No doubt her life is full of excitement, but her letters don’t reflect it,’ he said ruefully. ‘Perhaps it’s because she was always closer to her mother than to me, but sometimes I think we’ve grown so far apart that if we met we should scarcely recognise each other. But it’s all part of being a parent – the letting go, I mean – so I mustn’t grumble, but be glad that she’s enjoying a wonderful life in another land. It’s just a pity that she can’t write it all down in a way that a distant father can understand. Want to read it? I’m sure Janine wouldn’t mind.’

Edie read the letter quickly, then looked quizzically across at Albert. ‘She’s having fun and enjoying her life,’ she pointed out. ‘Some people have the gift of description and others . . .’

‘Haven’t,’ Albert said with a reluctant grin. ‘If I’m not being nosy, what has Tess got to report?’

The letter was a short one, but Albert smiled as he read. ‘Your Tess knows how to write,’ he said, handing the pages back. ‘Janine isn’t the only one having a whale of a time. But I wouldn’t swap with either of ’em. I’ve not been to Blackpool for years!’

Edie got to her feet, scooped up the food she had prepared and put it into the rucksack which Albert found the most convenient way of carrying their picnic. Glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, she gave a squeak of dismay. ‘Oh, Albert, look at the time! I haven’t been to Blackpool for ages, either, not since I was four or five, in fact, and I shall be heartbroken if we miss the coach. Do let’s hurry.’