Down on the sand they are about to play beach cricket, Allan carries the bat and Diana races across the sand before she comes to a halt. Turning, I can see her grin from here. I grab my trug and race down the path to join them.

Casting off my shoes, I drop my basket of flowers. The sand is cool and damp from the earlier rain. Diana bowls and I sprint to catch the ball. Allan runs back and forth until I tag him out, laughing. Squeals of joy fill the air and Diana picks up the bat ready for her chance. Allan bowls slowly and Diana makes the most of it. I fumble the catch giving her more time. She races, plaits flying. Finally I tag her out and Allan scoops her high in the air. We twirl together.

‘Mummy, it’s your go,’ she says, grinning.

‘I’m hopeless at batting.’

Allan raises and eyebrow. ‘Can’t say much for your fielding skills either.’ He chuckles. ‘Salome would be better.’

‘Of course, she would Daddy. Dogs are brilliant at playing catch.’ Diana smiles and I think of her and our dog playing ball in the parks of Moscow. The dog would love it here as we all do.

‘Have a go, Mummy, please.’

I drop a kiss on her nose and take the bat. I remember playing here in summer holidays before the war. Allan makes a big effort of bowling. I can hear Diana moving behind me then I see Allan dropping the ball and running towards me. Frowning, I turn. A sailing boat is in trouble, caught over the rocks just hidden beneath the returning tide. Diana waves wildly trying to get their attention. Things don’t look good. So much for quiet family time. No doubt they are tourists here for the Bank Holiday weekend, but today’s wind and weather conditions are not ideal for the novice sailor. The sweep of golden sand is rapidly being covered by the sea and the easterly breeze is pushing the unlucky sailors onto the rocks.

I shake my head. In another hour their boat would be afloat but, no doubt, with some hull damage. However, Allan was already in the water. Damn fool husband and damn fool strangers. But I smile. Allan is quick to help and that is one of the many reasons I love him.

Diana and I watch as Allan, knee-high in water, is holding the strangers’ boat from the side, bracing it as the wind pushes it further in to shore. Although I can’t hear them, I know he is instructing them to get the sail down. By the looks of it, it is their first time doing it. Their incompetence would be funny to watch if guests weren’t arriving shortly.

Diana frowns. ‘Oh, it’s the Venns.’

‘Are these the people your father mentioned?’

She nods and right at that moment the best I can hope is that Allan won’t invite them up to the house for a drink. He’s been threatening to do it all week. I can’t pinpoint when these people arrived in our conversations, but last night he’d mentioned them again. They look harmless enough and certainly hopeless with regards to sailing.