The young escaped the heavy heat of London.
Together they journeyed home, deep into the countryside. Here, in a jumbly house, surrounded by trees, ponds, meadows and cows, their parents waited. With a furrowed brow Mr Thomas sat with his paper, glasses wedged onto the tip of his nose. A dog slept and farted under his feet.
In the kitchen, May fussed. Stuffing the AGA with sausages, scones, and a honey basted chicken. Two more dogs danced around her feet, catching trimmings and crumbs.
After a long and perilous journey, the young finally arrived. Flung their bags into their bedrooms, swiping the chocolates thoughtfully left on their pillows by May, and raced downstairs for tea, cuddles and a paddle in the pond.
Picnic baskets were pulled down from their hiding places and packed in haste.
The company poured themselves into wellies and marched off, into the orchards.
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^ Trinity necklace, by Silver May herself!
Once night fell they all went home and lived happily ever after (they ate leftover moussaka and watched Lord of The Rings because Rose’s boyfriend had never seen it).
A fairytale Sunday.