We hopped into the Captains car and sped off. It was some dark and sporty number so, with some very forgiving Saturday traffic, it wasn't long before we were on the A4 then M4 and heading west.
"How are you feeling?" he asked solicitously, taking his hand briefly off the gear stick and gently squeezing my thigh.
"Fine thank you, all the better for that delicious breakfast."
"I nipped in to Harvey Nics on the way home and bought some deli stuff for a picnic in case you're hungry later."
"Trying to fatten me up are you?" He laughed at me.
"On the contrary, I think you're perfect the way you are." I felt him look warmly at me but I ignored him and took in that particular beauty: the English Countryside.
We talked and laughed for an hour straight. I encouraged him to do most of the talking as I felt unsure of exactly how much I was willing to give away. How do you explain Beijing, Alpha and the life of a Kept Woman?
From the motorway I saw a church spire in the distance and was consumed with the idea of getting off motorway and into Real England as my foreign friends would say. My Captain agreed and suddenly we were drifting though tiny villages complete with thatched roofs, village post offices and Miss Marple apprehending a suspect in the vicarage.
We kept going, searching, in a jokie way, for the perfect English village. We near found it too. Cricket on the village green, the publican handing out pints to the watching crowd, a vicar on a bike and spring flowers overflowing from cottage gardens. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and I felt complete.
We parked the car near the church and wandered over to watch a couple of overs. The Captain grabbed a bag from the boot and slung it over his shoulder. The gentlemen of Kent were playing the gentlemen of Northglosfordshire or wherever we were. The captain put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close. He kissed me on the temple. I closed my eyes and found myself creeping closer to his strong warmth.
After some minutes the Captain took my hand and we walked beside the green to a small knot of trees. A yellow arrow indicated a public footpath so we followed it feeling like pilgrims. Elderflowers brushed at our sides and sunlight through leaves bathed the path in that peculiar acid green that always screams SPRING!
We followed the path, holding hands, crossing fields of lambs (which always reminds me of mint sauce and roast potatoes, yum), oil seed rape and poppies. We toiled upwards, following the path up a hill to a ridge where it seemed like the whole county was set in a patchwork before us. Hedgerows carefully bordered each neatly farmed field and those very English little villages and hamlets dotted the landscape. I breathed deeply, feeling months of Beijing pollution and stress leave my body. A Red Kite swooped lazily above us, riding the thermals.
The Captain had his arms around me again and we stood still taking it all in. He kissed my hair, an intimate gesture that shocked me slightly. This was all getting very cosy.
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