Sunday, 8 September 2024

The Islands in the Bay – Chapter (040) Sunday

 




Since the Archers had arrived at Beacon Farm Nikki and Sam hadn’t had a moment on their own together and Sunday was their last opportunity, so she had to take her chance.

It was after they had returned from church and Sam Archer was sitting astride a quadbike in the farmyard when he saw Nikki approaching, with her coat collar up and the brim of her hat pulled down, and he smiled because she looked quite furtive, and that was funnier because it was unlikely that anyone would see anything, but a shape given how foggy it was.

When she reached him, she climbed aboard, in front of him and started the bike, but before they set off, she turned and kissed him, and the moment their lips met she wanted more, and she could tell from his response that he wanted more too.

 

The problem was where, she hadn’t thought that far ahead, she didn’t want to drive too far in case her newfound courage deserted her, and her ardour cooled.

She decided on the Old Radar Station Ruins up on Spaniards Point, it was a relatively straight run up the track and they afforded them some shelter from the elements.

 

They parked the bike and walked to the ruins where without warning Sam took her in his arms and kissed her, in a prolonged and breathtaking embrace, and when he finally disengaged his mouth from Her’s he kissed her forehead and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first moment I saw you on Thursday.”

“Me too” She responded, and they kissed again.

This time when the kiss ended, he said “Now can we go somewhere where we can get warm.”

“Oh yes please” she said and laughed.

She let him drive back to the farm and she sat on the back with her arms around his middle, and a broad smile on her face, there was more kissing during the course of the day in the warmth of the farmhouse, they just wanted their first kiss to be more private and intimate, so the cold and damp was a small price to pay.

 

Shortly after Nikki and Sam set off on the quadbike Harry left the farmhouse on foot in the direction of Spaniards Creek to stretch his legs.       

It wasn’t the best weather for a trip round the village, the fog was even thicker down by the river, he was happy to be out though, and he was deep in thought, remembering the events of the previous day, but the cold and damp was getting into his bones, so he decided to stride out back to the farm.

He left the quayside and rushed headlong round a corner and met someone else coming the other way and they both ended up on their backsides.

“I’m so sorry” Harry said getting quickly to his feet and proffering a hand to the prostrate figure which they took and when they were upright, he realized it was the Vicar, Arielle Nicolas.

“Nonsense” she replied, “I wasn’t looking where I was going, my mind was elsewhere.”

“Mine too” He said, “are you ok? are you hurt?”

“Only my pride” she replied.

“I really am sorry Vicar” he fussed.

“I’m fine, and call me Arielle, I’m off duty” she said and laughed.

They metaphorically dusted themselves off and there was a brief moment of awkward silence.

In which he wanted to say something, but his shyness got in the way, but Arielle came to his rescue.

“You look perished.”

“Yes, I just came out to explore the village and misjudged how cold and damp it was.”

“I know, I’ve been visiting a parishioner and I’ve only been out in it for 5 minutes and I’m cold” she said, “Comeback to the Vicarage and I’ll warm you up.”

“Oh, dear that’s not what I meant” she said realizing it sounded like she was soliciting, and if it hadn’t been so foggy he would have seen her blushing violently,

“I should have said “I can offer you a coffee to warm you up.”

“Thank you, I would like that very much” Harry replied, but he would have been just as happy with her first offer but chastised himself and tried to banish the immoral thoughts of the Vicar from his mind.

They drank the promised coffee and then spent a cozy afternoon at the Vicarage chatting.

“You are from Sharpington then?” she asked.

“Yes, now” he replied. “But I was born and raised in Pepperstock Green.”

“I don’t know Pepperstock Green, but I love Sharpington, we spent many happy holidays there when I was a child” she said.

“Are you an islander?” He asked.

“No, I’m a foreigner, apparently” Arielle said, “I’m from Tipton.”

“But I love the island, I’ve walked every inch of it, you can’t help feeling close to God when you’re on the hills.”

“Yes, it is beautiful.” Harry agreed.

But he thought the small delicately featured Vicar was too, with her bobbed brown hair, even though she was approaching her 40th birthday, he didn’t think she looked it at all.

“And you do a lot of walking?” he asked.

“I do and I can fit it in easily between my parochial duties” she explained.

“But I have Monday’s off” she said, “and when the weather is nice, I take the taxi to St. Giles.”

“A Taxi?”

“Yes” she said with a giggle “the water taxi, depending on the weather, I either have a picnic lunch by Hastings Lake or if it's not so nice I go to the cafe and I bring the picnic home and have it for tea.”

“That sounds very pleasant” he mused.

“You could join me if you're not doing anything I could show you the island if you'd like.” She suggested.

“I would like that very much” he said, “very much indeed.”

“I’ll put together a picnic for two then” she said and smiled.

 

When Harry returned to the farm, he made a beeline for his brother and when he found him, he said.

“We need to stay on for an extra day.”

“And why exactly do we have to do that?”

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