"Al!" shrieked Anya. Al scrambled to his feet and brushed the sand off his jeans. Walking backwards he smiled rather too gleefully to meet the steel in Anya's eyes "Sorry. Slipped!" Al turned and booted the football back to the match.

Anya seethed over her demolished sandcastle. "Bet he pulled little girls' pigtails at school too." She hissed to herself.

Sarah pulled down her sunglasses to look over them at Anya from her beach towel. "You had pigtails?" Anya deliberately didn't acknowledge her and Sarah went back to lounging. Anya picked up the spade and launched it into the sand.

Sitting just behind them both on the prom steps Abby smiled and continued to demolish her bag of crisps.

Price Is Right

Tom sat alone on the front step of the house, bottle in one hand, occasionally swigging, but drinking in the cool of the evening more than the alcopop Al had rescued from the local pub.

He heard a movement in the trees and became alert. 'Dah, nothing' he decided after a minute. He relaxed and took another swig. 'Just the ghost of his Old Uncle Tom poaching in the wood.'

Tom saluted the ghost by draining the bottle. "Night Uncle Tom." He said getting to his feet, stretching and going indoors. He closed the front door behind him and bolted it firmly.

"That boy never learned anything." whispered the ghost in the wood. "Scared it off see. Almost had it."

"Scared." came another voice.

"That's right Barney, You stick with me. We'll have venison for breakfast, or my name's not Tom Price."