The cottages stood still and empty, their old brick walls enjoying the silence after all the frantic activity that had taken place there earlier that morning: cases packed, damp swimming things rolled up in plastic bags, fridges emptied, beds checked underneath for small essential toys and misplaced socks. Even, in one particular bedroom, for the underwear that had been thrown off the night before in a heady moment of passion.

Then the cars had been loaded up, and away the families had driven, each with their new holiday memories and souvenirs, with sand still speckling the inside of the cars, with freckles and tanned skin; the nagging feeling of having forgotten something gradually replaced by thoughts of arriving home again, with every mile that accumulated between here and there.

It was Friday, changeover day, when holidays began and ended, when the cycle reset itself all over again. In a matter of hours there would come a whole new set of arrivals, hoping for fun, adventures and relaxation; looking forward to a slice of time that was removed from all the demands of their real worlds. Shrieks of laughter would ring out around the pool, along with noisy splashes. The barbecue would be lit once more, the table football would click and clack with competitive games, the beds would sigh beneath the weight of their new sleepers’ dreams and desires. Wine would be popped, kisses would linger, arguments might flare.

But all of that was yet to come. For now, the cottages stood quietly, waiting for their next temporary residents and all of the dramas that would unfold within their walls. In the meantime, the skylark flew on through the blue, its song spiralling down to earth.

Lorna was hauling sheets off the bed when her phone rang downstairs in the kitchen. ‘Just coming,’ she called down to it, knowing that, had her husband Roy been there, he would have made an affectionate comment about her talking to technology again. She couldn’t help herself. Those annoying self-service checkout tills at the supermarket were the worst. Unexpected item in bagging area. Please check and try again. Have you swiped your loyalty card? ‘Yes, all right!’ she would end up saying crossly every time.

She dumped the pile of bedding into the basket, then hurried down the narrow stairs. Mawnan Cottage was the smallest of their three holiday lets, with one good-sized bedroom and a smaller single room, but it had the nicest sea views of all the cottages: perfectly framed rectangles of the countryside sweeping down to the sea. On a summer’s day like today you could see the boats on the water; could practically hear the halyards slapping against the masts as the wind blew. But on a Friday – changeover day – she was always far too busy to stand and gawp out of a window, however wonderful the view. Besides, that phone was ringing and if she didn’t get a shift-on, she’d miss the call altogether.