“She's well." I put Piggy down. "And she sends her love, although you've probably spoken to her even more recently than I have." Mum and Babs were constantly on the phone.

"Oh, you know." She gave a secret smile and looked beyond me to Celia, who was picking her way much more cautiously across the rocks, arms outstretched for balance. Babs’ green, cat-like eyes were alive with interest.

“So this is Celia, who your mother tells me is rather out of my mould."

“Lordy, did she?"

Babs gave her famous gin-and-ciggies cackle then coughed violently. "You mean you don't entirely approve of the comparison? Hello there." She extended a slim brown hand adorned with unusual chunky rings and red nails as Celia approached. "I'm Babs. I expect you've heard the most terrible things about me."

“Do you know, I haven't," said Celia, clearly most put out. "I'm rather disgruntled. We've had five hours in the car and billions of years in the studio — wouldn't you think?"

"Ah, but our Flora's discreet. Still harbors secret hopes in a certain person's direction, you see. Doesn't want to be the one dishing the dirt on his parents in case she's accused of saying anything that can later be used in evidence against her. She protects herself. No disloyalty to ‘The Family’.” She made quotation marks with her fingers in the air.

"Ignore Babs," I told Celia. “She makes mischief."

"What else is there to do down here, darling?" enquired Babs, lighting a cigarette.

“Does everyone here smoke?" Celia boggled.

"Like I say, what else is there," said Babs. "Apart from sex, of course, there's masses of that. Do you want to see the house?"