Free The Beach Hut Next Door by Veronica Henry

other sets of friends Lillie had made at the tennis club – Elodie and Jolyon gravitated onto the lawn.
    ‘So – you work for your father?’
    Elodie made a face. ‘Yes. Very unimaginative. But it seemed like the logical thing to do.’
    He gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Same here. Well, I work for my mother. What do you do? Secretary, I suppose?’
    She shot him a fierce glance. She didn’t like being pigeon-holed.
    ‘No, actually.’
    He widened his eyes at her and drew back. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘I’m in charge of marketing. And advertising.’
    ‘Impressive.’
    She relented with a grin. It wouldn’t do to be on her high horse. ‘Well, not really. Basically it means making up slogans. And drawing pretty pictures to put on labels.’ She swirled her champagne in its glass. ‘At the moment, I’m working on Sally and Sammy Strawberry. To try and get children to eat as much jam as possible. Each jar has a Sally or a Sammy sticker behind the label. If you collect ten you can send off for an enamel badge.’
    ‘Very clever.’
    ‘Actually, it is,’ she told him. ‘Sales have soared.’ She leaned in to him. She felt very daring. ‘If you’re very good,’ she said, ‘I’ll get you a badge of your own.’
    He put his head to one side as he considered this, and she was amazed how his eyes laughed even though his face was perfectly straight.
    ‘I wouldn’t want you abusing your power.’
    Elodie felt something rise up inside her; a joyful bubble that was like the beginning of a laugh, but had a keener edge, something syrupy and sharp. From the terrace, she saw her mother watching the two of them, an expression of approval on her face. Lillie gave her a nod. Of encouragement, she thought.
    Then she realized Jolyon was watching them watch each other.
    ‘You’re not much like your mother,’ he said.
    ‘It has been said.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I haven’t inherited much from her at all. It’s a wretched curse, having a beautiful mother. People can’t help but compare.’
    His eyes didn’t leave her face. She found it disconcerting. ‘What?’ she said.
    ‘But you’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘Much more beautiful, to my mind.’
    Elodie just laughed. Jolyon looked perturbed, as if he wanted to press the point further, but Lillie was waving at them to come in. It was time for dinner.
    Lillie had done the placement with care, Elodie noticed. You could always tell her motives by where she chose to seat people. Lillie was next to Roger Jukes. Jeanie was in placement Siberia, at the bottom end of the table, in between the two tennis club husbands. Elodie could tell she knew that she’d been outcast by the way she didn’t flicker as she took her seat.
    She wondered who was better at the game, Jeanie or her mother. She saw her father frown as he took in the table arrangements. He was next to Mrs Kavanagh; another tennis club wife on the other side. If he thought he should be next to Jeanie, it was too late for him to say, or for the placement to change.
    Jolyon was on Elodie’s left. She was pleased, but she thought she probably couldn’t face food. There was too much excitement in her stomach for so much as a morsel. But she could copy her mother. Not help herself to anything. Push her food around her plate. Talk so much that no one noticed she wasn’t actually eating. So many of her mother’s tricks, hitherto ignored, were coming into play today. She could already imagine Lillie’s triumph.
    ‘So you spend all the summer here?’
    Elodie nodded. ‘Always. We shut up our Worcestershire house. Well, my father rattles around in it during the week, but basically we all move down here for July and August.’
    ‘It’s wonderful.’
    ‘It’s heaven. I love it.’
    Jolyon looked gloomy. ‘It’s the nearest we’re going to get to a holiday. We used to go to Capri. But we’re a bit strapped.’
    Elodie let him fill up her glass with wine. ‘Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’
    ‘Is it?’