A Week in August, by Hilary Featherstone

An original novel extract set in the twentieth century.

Seaview stood four streets back from the front at Bridlington, and you could not see the sea from any of its windows. Mrs Scattergood met us in the hall in 1958 with a list typed on a card, which she pinned to the back of our bedroom door before we had put the cases down. Breakfast was at eight sharp, and anyone who came down at five past would find the toast already cleared. Guests were to be out of the house between ten and five, whatever the weather, and on the Tuesday it rained so hard that we spent the whole morning in a bus shelter eating mint imperials. Sand was not allowed beyond the doormat, so we had to beat our sandals against the garden wall before she would let us in. A bath cost sixpence extra and had to be booked a day ahead. Still, her fried bread was the best I have ever eaten, and on the last night she gave my sister a stick of rock with Seaview written all the way through it, which nobody else at the table received.

List five things you learn about staying at Seaview in this extract.