A summer's day

I always think that a good way of telling how much you like a girl is to look at how much effort you put in when they are coming around. If you can’t even be bothered to change into some fancy pants, on the of-chance things go well then perhaps you don’t like her as much as you think you do.

I have been doing gardening. Days of gardening to make my mothers house look as presentable as possible, and I really hate gardening. It wasn’t even sloppy, surly gardening. I really worked at it. I’ve never done that before in my life. Two and a half days later the gardens were looking presentable, but still rather wild. The place is awash with geese so there is only so much one can do.

On Friday, at midday I went to pick A up from her friends house in the nearby town. It was a short drive along roads that are thick with memories for me like a sun-edged fog. As I drove along I got increasingly nervous, it was like a first blind-date or perhaps an important job interview. My stomach twitched with a dash of fear and a want to do well and make a good impression. I haven’t felt that in a long time.

The pick up went well, I didn’t get lost and I drove back with A, talking about work vaguely and occasionally sharing a story of the roads we were driving down. When she arrived I introduced her to my mother and my mother’s boyfriend and we had lunch outside. They all seemed to get on well, if a bit nervously at first. Perhaps I had overstressed the importance of A’s visit to my mother a little too much.

After lunch, my mother’s boyfriend put up the hammock in-between two walnut trees in the far field. A and I sat in it, rocking slowly in the dappled sunlight and listened to soft melody of the countryside while watching House Martins dive and wheel across the sky. We talked and laughed and it was lovely, the stress of work and other things seemed a million miles away.
My brother returned from school so we went back to the house for drinks and then engaged in the traditional activity of Hedge jumping. This transformed the perfectly manicured hedge into a strange beast with humps and holes in it. Hedge jumping is a long established sport at my mother’s house so the hedge is very used to having to recover from having small boys tumble over it.

It was rather warm at this point so my little brother suggested a game of blind-mans-buff with water pistols. He was blindfolded and we had to sneak up and try and tickle him with out getting wet. A took him out quickly and thus was blindfolded and armed while we attacked. She was good, if a little eager with the water so my brother was sent off to reload the pistol, the blindfold wasn’t removed and A waited, while giggling. I stepped close and she said she could tell my lips were close to hers because of the tingling sensation on her lips. So I stepped closer again and kissed her, full on the mouth. After just a micro-second she returned the kiss passionately.
At this point my little brother returned and the game continued, when-ever he disappeared to reload the water pistol A and I stole another kiss, with some words to the effect of this wasn’t very wise.

A bit later when everyone was completely soaked we went inside for a restorative cup of tea and then went up to the hammock to dry out. My mothers, my little brother A and I all pilled in (the hammock is a South American style, so it is designed to hold families) and we talked about silly things and laughed. Some time later A and I were alone in the hammock, the rest of the people had gone inside. We talked some more about silly things and then I gave her a piggy-back through the thistles back to the farm.

In the kitchen everyone was playing cards with lots of good natured shouting while drinking cups of tea and eating biscuits. Biscuits and cakes are an important part of life in the West Country, if you don’t have three meals just composed of them a day something is very wrong.
A challenged my little brother to a game of rummy, the stakes being if she won he would have to give her a piggyback ride, and if he won there would be another water fight. He won easily and another water fight began. This one was a lot more trigger happy and within moments everyone was completely soaked. I sent my little brother off to get towels and A and I sat entwined on the wicker sofa and talked. She thought that the kissing wasn’t a very good idea, and that it was rather high risk. I agreed, and said that some things are worth the risk, but that this wasn’t anything intense it was just a boy kissing a girl after a water fight. She kissed some more then, strong passionate kisses the sort that are heavy with suppressed intent. We sat there for quite some time, drying out and kissing until it was time for supper.

The mood at supper was very nice, my mother and her boyfriend had relaxed more so the usual giggling and laughter during mealtimes had returned. One the second course of post-supper cakes had been dealt with in an appropriate manner we armed ourselves with gloves and went outside to do some baling.

Baling is normally a horrible thing to do, a week of hard labour in the sun constantly getting scratched as you lug heavy and prickly bales on to the back of trailers and then off again into a barn. This time it was fun. It might have been the fact that we only had a short burst of it to do, or perhaps it was because A was there but I really enjoyed it. All of the years of baling finally paid off as I was able to toss them about with ease (it’s mostly about technique) much to the admiration of A.

As we sat balanced on the full load of hay wobbling down the roads towards the barn we kissed again. Little stolen kisses, savouring the moment it’s not often you get to kiss a beautiful woman on a warm summer’s afternoon so these things should be taken advantage of.

After a bit of brushing down I hopped in the car to drop A back at her friend’s house. We kissed a bit more while I drove, which was rather risky but it seemed like the right thing to do. Back at her friend’s house, while the friend, James got dressed (he had been in the bath) A pounced on me again and kissed me. I saw her get more and more flushed as we kissed, it’s nice to know you have an effect on a girl. James returned and when his girlfriend, who was a very old friend of A returned we all went down to the local pub to see a band play and have a few drinks. I was on the soft-drinks as I don’t touch anything if I am going to drive. A couple of close calls in Scotland cured me of that habit.

A’s friends were very funny and the pub was full of life. Occasionally A would put her hand on my knee or link fingers with me just out of sight of her friends, but I think they noticed, even a priest would be able to pick up on the signals being sent out between A and I.

At about midnight I made my excuses and left, it had been a very long day and I knew I had a drive ahead of me. A saw me outside and stole some more kisses and I got back into the car and drove. I love driving on country lanes in the dark. It feels like you are the only person on the planet and the concentration involved to be safe (I go rather fast) means I forget everything else and just get in the zone. I really do miss having a car.

When I got back I was rather away, several pints of coke will do that to a chap so I stayed up for a bit reading and then A sent me a series of very rude text messages. Our stolen kisses had more of an effect than I thought.

I went to sleep pondering the situation. A is clearly still cut up about her old chap and I’m not in the slightest bit interested in being a rebound. The risks to both of us just aren’t worth taking for a quick roll in the hay. I have things I need to deal with as well, if I’m being honest. Now that I think about it I haven’t really been able to maintain a grown up relationship since my parent’s marriage broke up in a nasty way (The fact that it was in the papers as well didn’t help). I’ve just been having a series of intense affairs. I don’t want this to happen with A.

What ever happens I have had a perfect day with A, it couldn’t have gone any better. It’s a golden memory to treasure, and I think for the first time in a very long time I kissed a girl for the first time and I was completely and utterly sober. That makes me sound like an alcoholic, but if you think back how many times have your first kisses been helped along with a dash of booze?

Today A and her friends are coming over for supper. Who knows what the night will bring?