‘That’s true,’ said Elle. ‘But it’s going to take more than a couple of weddings to get us back on our feet, Penny. Besides, I don’t think it would go down well if the ceiling fell in during someone’s precious nuptials. It would kind of spoil the moment, wouldn’t it?’

‘What if we offered something like part-ownership, the way they do abroad sometimes?’ Penny pondered.

Elle made a face. ‘Fine for somewhere warm like Spain or France but who’s going to want to time-share a cold, wet rock in the North Atlantic? No, what we need is cold, hard cash, that’s the long and the short of it, I’m afraid.’

They made a full list of possible money-making ideas. On it Penny wrote:

Ask a different bank for money? Under which, Elle had written: Rob a bank.

‘We’re not really getting anywhere, are we?’ Penny sighed.

‘Not really. I’m sorry but there’s just no way around it, Penny. We need to bring more business in to pay off the debt, yet we can’t do that until the place is up to standard. And we need more money to bring the place up to standard.’

‘Well, let’s not give up just yet. Let’s have some lunch, take a walk and then come back to it all with a clear head.’

Elle sighed in the face of her sister’s relentless optimism. She couldn’t see that it would make any difference, but she had promised to try. And Penny was right, all this thinking was indeed hungry work.

When Rob arrived at the hotel, Ned informed him that he had seen the girls walk off down the beach some time ago. ‘How are you keeping, Ned?’ asked Rob, aware that he had barely seen him since the funeral, and also that Ned Harte would likely not be inclined to share his feelings. He was a good man, a little bit on the unusual side with his strange humming mannerism, and odd obsession with Lennon & McCartney music, but that was one of the things Rob liked about him. The world had too much sameness in it sometimes, too many people talking nonsense about nothing. When Ned did speak, (or hum) it was usually worth listening.

‘Grand,’ he said, before humming an instantly recognisable Beatles number, She’s Leaving Home. Rob immediately interpreted this as Ned suggesting that Elle would be on her way again soon.

He didn’t want to share his glimmer of an idea with him just yet. He couldn’t stand to get the man’s hopes up if it all came to nothing. ‘It’s a terrible shame.’

‘Yes,’ said Ned, looking stricken. ‘I can’t help but think if only I’d paid a bit more attention, been a bit more involved . . .’