Luke enjoyed nothing better than an excuse to visit the beach. He and Josie were gone for three hours, and by the time they returned home, father and daughter were thoroughly pleased with each other. As they approached the back door Luke was laughing at some idiotic remark of the child's, when Josie put a finger theatrically to her lips.

"Don't wake Mummy," she said.

"Think she'll still be asleep?"

"Mummy gets tired a lot. She's always napping during the day, 'cuz there's so much to do for the boarders."

"Well she's not going to work while she's here. We'll spoil her. Why don't you go and have a shower while I rustle up something to eat?''

Josie skipped off into the bedroom, but Luke saw her emerge a moment later, clutching some clothes, her finger to her lips.

"She still asleep?" he asked, and received a vigorous nod.

Luke went quietly past her and up to the bed. Pippa was lying on her face, one arm hanging over the edge, in exactly the same position as when he'd left her three hours ago. Sleeping like the dead.

Which was strange, because Pippa had never slept like that.

She was a compulsive twitcher. He remembered one particular time years ago when she'd asked, "Luke, what are you doing on the floor?''

"I spent the entire night on the floor. It was more comfortable that way, you mad woman.''

"Meaning? Meaning?"

"Meaning that being with you is like trying to sleep with a flailing windmill. You punched me in the eye once, and where your knee landed I'd rather not think of."

"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just keep your knees to yourself," he remembered saying.

Josie came into the kitchen while Luke was just about to dish up an egg concoction. She was wearing jeans and a shirt and shining from the shower.

"Coming up!" he exclaimed, heading for the place at the bar that he'd laid for her.