hey made good time, averaging nearly 20 kph despite a detour to avoid the sniper on the M12. Max became over- excited once he spotted the beach through the pollution haze. He bounced up and down on the back seat, singing an inane song he'd composed on the way. "We're going to the beach, beach, beach. We're going to the beach, beach, beach. We're going to the beach, beach, beach. We're going to the beach."

His sister, Megan, sighed through clenched teeth as silence fell at last.

Max was only taking a breather. Within a couple of minutes, the silence was over. "We're going to the beach, beach…"

"Shut up!"

"Megan, don't shout at your brother. He's excited," Phyllis said. Megan thought her mother always took Max's side. She nearly always did.

Julius tried to act as peacekeeper. "We're all excited but let's all just try to relax. We're almost there. Look! Let's try to have a good day and remember all the safety precautions we talked about." He took a deep breath. "Can you smell the sea?"

They all sniffed. Yes they could. A distinctive sulphur-twang you just didn't get anywhere else. Max whispered, "we're going to the sea…" under his breath and Megan mimed slapping him but the tension had gone out of the situation, replaced with a pure and thrilling sense of anticipation.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled into the car park.

"IDs?" The guard snapped.

"Hamilton," Julius said. "We have reservations." The family all held out their cards for inspection.

He checked his palmtop. "Hamilton... Checks out. Have you been here before?"

"Yep."

"Most people don't come back. I'll skip the basic survival tips then. UV is a healthy 98% today. Cadmium and mercury only just outside toxic limits. We've had cases of hepatitis J, K, M and Q, this month, so be careful."

Julius wondered what they would do when they got to Z. "What about the weather?"

The guard shrugged and waved them through the gate. "Have fun."

Let the holiday commence! Julius grabbed the food. Max had a bucket and spade. Phyllis carried the sunscreen and the medical emergency kit. Megan gathered up towels and the gun. "You can leave that behind, young lady."

"Mum! You are so old fashioned."

"We're on holiday. Try to act like it. The coastguard can deal with that kind of thing."

"Speaking of coastguards," said Julius.

A pack had descended on them. "Coastguard, sir? 600. Best on the beach."

"Don't pay any attention to him, sir…"

They all trailed off and stood back as a figure in red pushed his way through. "With respect, sir, madam, you could pay 600 for these gentlemen and spend the day watching them. Or you could spend 1,200 on the best, sit back and relax." He tapped one of his guns. "Cameron Dakin. I'll get you on and off that beach. No problems." Dakin was well over 2m tall, with at least two layers of muscle under his skin, which was as well oiled and maintained as his weapons. He wore the necessary protective clothing but you just knew by looking at him that even the sun would be intimidated.

Phyllis compared him to the skinny opposition with their rusty guns and eczema. 1,200 seemed like a bargain. "Pay the man, dear," she said.

The beach was divided into a grid, each patch separated by a path that allowed holidaymakers to move around, as well as keeping a distance between neighbours. It was risky to infringe on someone else's space. As expected, squatters were on their patch. One look at Dakin persuaded them to try someone else. They scampered away, towards the sea and richer, less risky pickings. They must be fairly well off just to get here, Dakin thought, but not filthy rich this far back. Dakin held up the palm of his hand to the family. "Wait just a second." He produced a micro-detector from one of the pouches on his belt and swept for needles. "Seven," he announced. "Two pointing upwards. Probably planted that way." He was demonstrating how well their 12,00 had been invested.

"Thank you, Mr Dakin."

"Of course, if you'd like to indulge yourselves, I've got…" He reached into his pouch.

"We don't do that kind of thing."

"It's good stuff."

"No thank you."

Dakin decided they were just into retro. Going clean had been in vogue last year.

"Max," Phyllis called. Her son was making his way along a path to the shoreline. She tapped her sunglasses. "Cataracts, dear."

"Aw, they're so dorky, mum."

"Your friend Davinia went blind, didn't he, Max? Remember." Max put his sunglasses on. He was hot under his sunhat, lead impregnated jacket and anti-sharps sandals but at least he was safe. Safe-ish. Anyway, it was quite cool for February. He did what his mother said and wondered down to the shoreline. There barbed wire to mark the minimum safe distance. A bit further along the wire, five dark figures were hunched in a group.

"Aren't those beachbums a bit close to Max?" Phyllis asked Dakin.

He took the rifle from his back holster and took aim. "Don't worry, Mrs H. If any of them get too close, I'll just pick them off with my friend here. No problem."

"Couldn't you just wing them?"

"Only on TV, Mrs H, only on TV."

The family settled down to relaxing, watched over by the ever-vigilant Dakin, perched on a stool like a well-armed eagle. Megan covered herself from head to foot in factor-150 and sat under the umbrella, listening to her music.

"Remember, just one hour in the sun. Don't overdo it."

"God, mother! I'm sixteen. Why can't you treat me like an adult for a change?"

"Don't blame me when your skin falls off." Phyllis left it at that. She had brought and actual book, with paper pages, to read. They were becoming difficult to get hold of. Julius just relaxed for the first time in what seemed like months. He started to doze.

As usual, Max spoiled the mood. Suddenly, Dakin leaped from his stool, startling the Phyllis, Megan and Julius awake. "Stay here," he ordered and ran of towards the sea.

"What's going on?" asked Julius, rising from his nap.

"Well for one thing, your expensive coastguard's left us at the mercy of the locals." Phyllis' eyes were darting nervously from side to side. Beachbums, sensing easy prey, were already closing in. Most of them were blind, and the UV had turned their skin charcoal black, but they could hear more than adequately. "Oh, God." Phyllis looked around for a weapon. Anything would do, even Max's plastic spade. One of them reached the edge of their grid.

He, or it could have been she, hissed like a snake. "Give!" It snapped. "Give!" Then it shrieked in pain and fell backwards clutching its shoulder. It had been winged.

Dakin had reappeared. "What do you know? That does work. Thanks for the tip, Mrs H." The beachbum got to its feet and dragged itself away, still hissing. Its friends were long gone. It scurried away leaving a trail of blood on the sand. They could all see the reason for Dakin's desertion. He put Max down. "I'm afraid our young friend here had found a gap in the wire and was about to test the water."

"The water? Max! My God, what were you thinking? Do you want to catch cancer? Or something really bad?" Phyllis hugged him and kissed his head.

Max looked resentful. He explained; "Thom says that people used to go swimming in the sea a hundred years ago."

His father had heard enough. "Thom Goddling is a pathological liar. Who'd want to go swimming in that filth?"

"Besides," Megan joined in, "this place was 50km inland a hundred years ago. Before the Fens flooded."

None of the family was watching their protector. They're driving me nuts. What century are they from? He coughed. Then he had to shout. "Excuse me, the official patrol will be along to investigate. They'll need a bribe to ignore my illegally held, lethal force colleagues."

"Oh, we used all our cash up on your fee!" Phyllis explained. "We do have more back at the…" Oh. She shouldn't have said that.

"That's just what I needed to know. You really are the tipster queen, Mrs H. Now, with respect, if you rich folks have quite finished, it's getting late and I think I'll be taking all that expensive stuff now. If you help me carry it, I'll get you off this beach alive. Then I'll need your car keys, too."

Max had distracted Julius. When he turned, Dakin had his handguns drawn. They were both pointed at him. "Um, have I missed something?"

"Pay attention, Mr H. You're being robbed. By me."

"No!" Julius instinctively stepped between Dakin and his wife and son, not noticing that since Dakin was actually aiming at him this put them in more danger. Still, Phyllis admired the gesture as she shuffled quietly to one side. No one seemed to be paying attention to Megan. She hit the sand, rolled away from the action and scrambled for her bag.

"Don't make me kill you, Hamilton. I'm not in the mood. I'll just take all of it afterwards, anyway."

Julius felt a heady and hazardous mixture of bravado, stupidity and resentment. If Dakin earned 1,200 a day, then he was far richer than they were. He took a step forwards. They had scrimped and saved for this one day a year when they could be free from the pressures of the Real City and he wasn't going to give it up for some…There was a sudden, strange cracking noise, too sharp for thunder. It was the loudest sound he had ever heard. Oh, thought Julius, he shot me. He closed his eyes, surprised by his own calmness and astonished by the lack of pain. He waited to feel it but there wasn't any. He felt almost cheated. I must already be dead. No, that wasn't it. He opened one of his eyes and saw what was wrong. Dakin's head seemed to have exploded. Blood, bone and brain were sprayed on the sand between them. His body fell forwards onto his knees, then onto the sand. The only movement was the blood pumping from his neck. "What?"

"I told you to leave that thing in the car!" Screamed Phyllis.

"God, Mother," said Megan, she kicked Dakin to make absolutely sure he wasn't going to be getting back up. He looked tough enough to do it, even without a head. "Thanks for the gratitude. Honestly, you treat me like such a virgin sometimes. It's not like I haven't shot anyone before."

Julius felt dizzy. He had to sit down. "Well done, Megan."

"Yay, Megan." Even Max was impressed.

Phyllis had to admit she had a point. "Well… I'm not saying…"

"We don't have time for this. The holiday's over." Megan wasn't going to wait for the beachbums, other coastguards or the police to come and see what was happening. She picked up Dakin's rifle and his two guns. They were far too useful to leave behind. Her family gawped at her. "We're leaving. Now."

Megan went with Max to buy postcards and ice cream. She took the rifle with her. Phyllis didn't argue. It went without saying that this was a turning point for the family. Phyllis had surrendered power by being wrong about the gun, about Dakin, about a lot of things. Megan was the tough one. The resourceful one. Julius wondered who on Earth she got it from. Not from him or Phyllis, that was for sure. They stood together and watched the beach as the sun went down. The scene was changing. Prostitutes were appearing. It would be fatal for them to come out during the day wearing so little. One or two made offers and named prices. He tried to ignore them. "There are lots of girls besides…" he sang wistfully, "I would like to be beside…"

"What, dear?"

"Nothing. Just a silly little song my grandmother used to sing."

"It was quite a good day. On balance. Relaxing. Compared to what it would have been like back home. Wasn't it?" She sounded desperate to believe it was true.

And it hadn't been a terrible day. In the end. They had certainly had much worse. "All's well that ends well. It certainly made a nice change to get out into the fresh air and sunshine."

Megan and Max came back and the four of them made their way back to the car. It would take a month, if they were lucky, for the cards to get to Uncle Maximus and Aunt Daphne but it was a family tradition.

On the beach, sandgulls picked at Dakin's head. The few with functioning wings spiralled and dived and fought over the scraps, forming deformed shadows against the fading, bright red sunset.