Midsummer's Magic

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Liam finally stepped into the farmhouse kitchen at 9PM. His two black Labradors jumped up to greet him with their tails wagging expectantly. Crouching down, he gave them both a good pat and  ruffled their fur. Then, he picked up the large bag of dry dog food and filled their bowls. The two dogs buried their heads and proceeded to demolish it. Liam flicked the switch on the kettle and swilled his mug under the tap, still half full with tea from this morning's early start. He plopped a tea bag into it, sat down at the kitchen table, and had a quick sift through the mail that had arrived while he was out. Nothing much of interest, there was just the usual bills and junk mail. There was also a note from his farm manager, reminding him of some things he needed to pick up in the morning. The kettle boiled; he made his tea, wandered into the cosy living room, and slumped into his old, tatty armchair. He took a sip and laid his head against the back of the chair. He was tired, sweaty and covered in the dirt and dust from the days toil on the farm. But he always took a few moments with a cuppa to gather his thoughts and unwind before he went for a shower and change of clothes. 

As his mind started to drift over the day's events, he ticked off the jobs done and others still to do tomorrow. As always, it was a never-ending list. But that was farming, and even though he was exhausted at the end of each day, he enjoyed working on the land. 

Funny how things worked out really, being the younger of two sons, he had not been expected to take over the farm. His brother, Rhys, was the born farmer and worked alongside his father for many years, learning the business and gradually taking over more of the day-to-day running so that his parents could step back and start enjoying themselves. His father had started renovating an old derelict cottage that he and his mother would retire to. It was on the other side of the property, close enough to walk to, but not so close that they would feel they intruded on Rhys and his fiancée once they took over the farm. Liam had been free to go to university and follow his own dreams, coming home in the summer to spend most of his days surfing and just hanging out with his buddies in Newquay. His mind drifted away to those long, hot summer days and the feel of the wind whipping through his hair as he skimmed the waves. That total feeling of freedom of just him against the elements. The evenings spent partying on the beach or in one of the many clubs in the surfing town. And of course, the never ending supply of beautifully bronzed girls all eager to get their hands on one of the local surfers. 

But those halcyon days had ended abruptly with one devastating phone call. He had been sitting around a fire on Fistral beach, watching the sun go down with yet another of his conquests, when his mobile rang on that fateful evening. It was the police; they had found his number on his dad's phone. They had been at the Royal Cornwall show all day, on the way back an idiot tourist had overtaken on a blind bend and hit his dad's car head on, and that was it. His mum, dad, Rhys, and his fiancée, Rowena all killed instantly, and Liam's life changed forever. He still had nightmares about the identification of the bodies. The four people he cared most about in the world laid out on slabs, covered in white sheets. Except in his dreams, their eyes were open staring, dull and lifeless at him, boring into his soul, as if to say, "Why aren't you with us"?  

So now, he was the farmer with all the responsibilities that went with it. He vowed to keep the farm going although many of his friends tried to encourage him to sell and carry on with his plans to tour the surfing beaches of the world and get on with his life. But as far as he was concerned, his other life ended on that fateful day four years ago. He would spend every day sweating blood and tears to keep the family farm going and forget about that other life of carefree days and hot, sex filled nights. After all, if he hadn't cared so much about surfing and sex, he would have been with them that day. His mum had begged him to come saying it would be nice to have all the family together for once, but no. Despite her pleas, he went to the beach and he struggled with the guilt of that decision every single day. 

As Liam felt the lump in his throat and the wetness around his eyes, he sat up and shook his head. No time to dwell, he couldn't go back and change things. Better snap out of it, he looked down at his two labs who were resting their heads on his knees. He scratched behind their ears. "We're ok, aren't we lads? We'll survive, just got to get on with it." He stood and went upstairs for a long hot shower. 

By the time Liam had showered, changed, and made himself a bite to eat, it was 11PM. He went to the fridge, took out a bottle of Bud, and walked outside with the dogs by his side. He sat on the low wall that separated the farmhouse from the yard and watched them sniff around, looking for rats and anything else they could find. 

He stared out over the fields. It was a warm, clear summer night and the sky was filled with millions of stars twinkling brightly. The smell of night scented stock drifted through the air; he heard an owl screech out in the fields looking for its supper. 

He took a swig of bud and let his mind drift. Suddenly a picture of the girl in the cottage sprang across his consciousness, well mainly her cute butt wiggling as she stomped away from him up the garden path. He felt a familiar tingling in his groin as he remembered those vivid, green, cat eyes that glared at him above a cute button nose and ripe, full, red lips that just asked to be kissed. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his mop of hair. No time to get soft on a woman, especially a rude self-opinionated outsider who was probably only there for the summer. But he decided that perhaps he ought to apologise to her in the morning about the car thing. She might do something daft like, call the police and report him for stealing it, even though he only moved it a few yards down the road. He finished his Bud and whistled to the dogs who came charging back to the house, tails wagging, having relieved themselves and had a good nose round the yard. They were, like him, ready for bed. 

He went back inside, turned off the lights, and climbed wearily up the stairs to his bedroom. Pulling his shirt over his head, he dropped it onto the floor. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them and his boxers. He opened the window to let what little breeze there was waft into his bedroom. Laying down on top of his duvet, as it was too hot for covers, he soon drifted off into a deep sleep. For once the nightmares did not come. Instead, he had a vivid and very explicit dream about the feisty red head he had met that morning.