Author's note: This is my submission for the
Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2022
- a story inspired by the fantasies of some good friends.
I hope you enjoy the story. If you do, then please consider voting for it. Comments always welcomed.
***
A perfect day. One of those days when any doubts I had had about giving up on city life and moving out to the countryside evaporated with the first rays of the morning sun creeping round the curtains in the window of the cottage.
A slow morning drifted by in that special summer way. Coffee and toast taken out into the garden for a long breakfast soaking up the sun, a few household chores, answering a few emails, checking on the hot tub for later and a chat with a fellow collector about a problem on the 1951 XK120. As the sun reached its peak it found me walking across the hot dry fields and through the village to the Plough, intent on a beer and one of the excellent sandwiches for which Pam the landlady was famous.
The pub garden was quiet, even for a weekday lunchtime, and I took my pint to the cool back corner, one of the few places out of the glare of the sun, and settled myself at one of the tables under the dappled shade of an old apple tree. Just as Pam placed the daily menu on the table (I was sure leaning forward more than she needed to and giving me a glimpse of her curvy cleavage) I saw them come through the gate from the car park.
A good looking young couple, in their thirties I guessed, smiling, talking and holding hands. Their affection for each other was radiant and infectious, and immediately made me smile. I watched as Pam welcomed them and, though I couldn't hear their conversation, I figured out that they were asking about somewhere to sit out of the sun because Pam turned to one side and pointed to the table next to mine, then asked them what they wanted to drink and returned into the dark cool of the old inn. As they walked across the garden towards me I was captivated by the woman, and her short cotton sundress which flowed across her toned thighs and curved around her slightly swaying breasts. I suppose you could say I was being a typical dirty old man, ogling this young woman, but hoped my sunglasses had obscured my attention sufficiently to avoid offence.
"Do you mind if we join you?" she said, as they came closer, indicating the table next to mine with a wave of her hand.
"Of course not. We all need some shade today and it's lovely to have company. Your first time at the Plough?"
"Yes. We've been meaning to come for ages, and have driven past many times, but this morning we decided that today was the day." I watched her as she settled into her seat, her skirt swinging up and briefly exposing more skin before she quickly smoothed it down.
"Well I hope you enjoy it. Pam's food is famous around here. I'm Kris. Welcome to the village."
The man leaned over and extended a hand. "James", he smiled.
The young woman waved a friendly wave. "Hi! Caroline. Lovely to meet you"
Pam emerged from the pub with a tray of drinks, and menus tucked under her arm, ascended the couple of steps onto the lawn and came across the grass looking every inch the country pub landlady that she was. Sunlight glinted off the glasses as she placed them in front of my new companions, and threw coloured shards of light on the table as it refracted through Caroline's Pimm's.
She handed over the menus, and described the specials that were available that day, explaining that Steve, the chef, used quiet weekdays to try out some new, always delicious ideas on customers.
"What an amazing menu!" Caroline exclaimed.
"It's a pretty amazing place overall!", I agreed. "Pam took it over a few years ago when it was a bit run down but she has breathed new life into it. Steve was a great find - he's proved to be a hit with locals and visitors alike. I can recommend whatever he is trying out today - I have never had a bad meal here."
"Have you been here long?"
"I moved to the village about three years ago. Escaping the rat race of the city. I live just over that way, across the fields, just me, a peaceful cottage and a barn full of old cars."
As I mentioned the cars I sensed James's eyes light up, and saw a smile of familiar resigned acceptance creep onto Caroline's lips.
"Old cars?" James asked. "What do you have?"
"A fellow lover of expensive rust held together with shiny paint?" I laughed.
"Oh, don't get him started!" Caroline giggled, but I gave in to James's enthusiasm.
"Well hardly a vast collection, but I have an old XK120, a '57 Mk1 Sprite and my favourite, a 1958 Messerschmitt Bubble Car."
"Wow! How old is the Jaguar?"
"1951. Sadly, the engine is well past its prime, so I never push it these days, but it still sounds great."
"Roadworthy then?"
"Just about! I get all of them out for a spin when I can, especially in this weather - they are all soft tops."