She smiled at his idea, and he felt quite chuffed for seeming so thoughtful. "Well Mrs Bletchley hasn't yet seen her own private beach, and I don't see why you need to stay inside any longer."
He was glad she picked the broom - it seemed like an age since he'd done any flying, and he draped an arm over Daphne's shoulder. "You going to be warm enough?" he asked - his only concession to her health. "We can always apparate back if you feel you've overdone it."
He guided her down to the entrance hall, where Zorbin had left a basket. Taking a peek, he saw some chicken, cheese and avocado sandwiches on crusty bread, a bottle of wine and some fresh apples. "Well it's not exactly a feast of lobster and caviar," he said as he charmed the lid down tight and grabbed the broom from the rack by the front door.
"Hold on tight," he said as he waited for Daphne to hop on.