Page 22 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Nope, no, no. That’ll send me over the edge, you minx.’

Rachel leapt up from him, laughing, ‘Okay then, last one down to the sea’s a ninny.’

Tom scrambled after her.

She could feel the thud of his feet in the sand just behind her as she ran full pelt down the dune bank and away to the shore, pulling off her trainers in the final few metres before dashing right up to her knees in the chilly water.

Tom swept her up in his arms, about to dunk her into the waves.

‘So, I’m a ninny, am I?’

‘Yes!’

With one swift movement, he dipped her body until her head touched the cold sea froth.

‘No, no, no!’

They were both laughing. He dipped her once more, enough to dampen her hair.

‘No, stop, I’ll end up all curls,’ she giggled.

‘I love your curls.’ He dipped her again.

‘Ooo-kay, no more. I surrender, I’ll get brain freeze!’

The legs of Tom’s jeans were soaked through; as he deposited Rachel back on the sands, they both looked down at his sodden legs, grinning.

‘Do you think they’ll still let us in the pub? I fancy a quick pint,’ said Tom.

‘Yeah, course. It is the beach, after all. We might manage to bag a seat outside anyhow.’

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Nah, I was too busy serving at lunch time,’ answered Rachel. ‘I’d forgotten. Hmm, I am feeling a bit peckish …’

‘Right then, to the pub it is.’

They were soon perched on a wooden bench outside the Ship Inn, tucking in to fresh crab sandwiches and a bowl of homemade chips, all salt and vinegary – delicious. They chatted as they ate, Rachel sipping a glass of chilled white wine while Tom enjoyed a half-pint of the local ale, soaking up the atmosphere of a sunny afternoon by the sea.

All too soon, it was time to head back. Maisy’s after-school gym club would be finishing in half an hour, and they’d have to be there in time to collect her. Back to mum mode, back to reality.

‘Time to go …’ Rachel admitted reluctantly.

‘Yep, it is indeed. I’ve got a few things to finish up on the farm too.’

‘It’s been lovely, Tom. Thank you for whisking me away.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ answered Tom.

He gathered their glasses and took them back inside to the bar, whilst Rachel took a last look at the rippling blue of the sea. It had been a gorgeous afternoon.

Hmm, maybe she could call and see Tom later this evening, and pick up where they’d left off in the dunes …

Heading back inland in Tom’s truck, Rachel gazed across at her fiancé. ‘Won’t it be great when we don’t have to keep saying goodbye, when we can go home together, just be together …’

With their wedding in less than two months’ time, it would be a wonderful reality. Going home with Tom and Maisy, back to Primrose Farm.

‘Yeah,’ his smile was warm, genuine, ‘knowing that when I get back from a day out in the fields, or on the tractor, that you’ll be there, you and Maisy, back at my farmhouse.’