“Speaking of which, are we working today?” I paused at the sink and frowned, up to my elbows in suds. “What day is it?”

“Sunday, so no. Personally I'm going to lie in a darkened room until the gaudiness of last night's excesses recedes into the very distant past and all memory of—!”

We both froze. Cringed low as our doorbell rang at full volume. Brrrrrrrrrrr! When it finally stopped, I turned, arms still in the water. Celia had her hands over her ears.

We gazed at one another in horror. “Did you even know we had one?" she whispered, removing her hands gingerly from her head. “Don't people down here just push on through?"

“Shouting coo-ee, yes."

“So who is it?"

"No idea."

"Who would do that?" She looked worried.

“Don't know, Cele. Can't see through doors." I removed my hands from the sink and wiped them on a tea towel since she clearly wasn't going to make a move.

"We don't want anyone like that," she said petulantly. “The police?"

"Oh, don't be silly!" But suddenly I was marching very quickly to that door, Peter springing instantly to mind, together with the usual maternal nightmares to do with teenagers, the sea, copious amounts of alcohol and various notorious horror stories. But something else about Peter and last night, which was coming back to me, made me open the door with even greater alacrity to the morning sunshine.

A familiar figure stood silhouetted on the doorstep. But it was one I hadn't seen for quite some time, so I was wrong-footed. A pale, sandy-haired man with freckly skin and tortoiseshell glasses, behind which he blinked a great deal, was facing me. He was clutching what can only be described as a man-bag. I would get there, I would. But it was taking me a moment. Celia, coming up behind me, got there before me.

"Edward!" she called in surprise.

That's it. Edward.

She joined me at the door. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Well I — I just thought I'd come down and see how you were — you know," he faltered, "how you were getting on." It was quite a long sentence for Edward. He blinked rapidly with the exertion.

"Well, what a lovely surprise, come in, come in! You've come miles, for heaven's sake — have you come from London? Surely you haven't come down for the day? And how come you're not working? I thought you were working? By the way, we don't normally live like this — here, sit here." She guided him to a barstool, still firing questions at him and not waiting for an answer. She flew around the kitchen like a whirling dervish, on a mission now, to make it gleam like an operating theater.