TUESDAY . 18TH JULY. 2006.

This month is developing into an altogether enthralling idyll. Existence seems now an endless daydream of bliss. Basking like seals in the Cornish sunshine with sister Sally and gay niece Sian , plus the divine love of Sian’s life, Den (Denise), I announce, “These are our Terrace Years.” 

Everyone laughs, it is so monstrously out of character for all four of us, each in our own ways such former hell-raisers, such perfectionists, such high achievers, such stressed workaholics. How could we all be idling the heatwave away, there on the terrace of  Polperro’s beach hotel, turqoise tides advancing and retreating whilst we summon constant sustenance  from fresh-faced youths working as waiters between sixth forms and universities.

“Finally,” I add,toasting us all with my iced and sliced-lemon Diet Coke, “the devils in heaven!”