Chapter 50
"What the heck?!" I shout.
James looks timidly towards me, then to Louisa. As soon as she starts laughing, my son joins in, leaving me baffled.
"This is not funny." I snarl. I really try to keep my temper, but in moments like this I really have a hard time not to explode. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"
"Actually, James saw it on TV once. He thought it would be fun." Louisa explains.
"So why didn't you stop him?!"
"That's what Daddies do at the beach." I am informed.
"Well…maybe…" I say through clenched teeth, really doing my best to stay as calm as I can, "but not if they have a four hours train ride ahead of them and no spare trousers to change into!"
Louisa looks at James again and starts to giggle.
"Sorry. I'll brush them as well as I can." Louisa promises.
"It's absolutely hopeless. They're ruined."
"Oh, come off it. They had to go to the dry cleaners anyhow."
"Besides, the accumulation of heat underneath the sand can have a disadvantageous effect on certain… uhum… organs."
Louisa bends over me and caresses my hair. "I didn't think of that. I would have never taken the risk that you won't be in top shape tonight."
"What's tonight?" James is a bit too curious for my liking.
"Nothing. Bed." I answer curtly.
James' brow furrows. "Why do you have to be in top shape for bed?"
"Don't worry about that." I tell him rather brusquely, I have to admit, "Maybe you'd better get me out of here."
"Oh, sure, coming Daddy." My son picks up his little shovel.
"Rescue team on duty." Louisa mockingly salutes to him.
I could just kick myself free, I suppose, but then the sand would be all over the rug. So I am subject to a rescue operation with my son with his shovel and Louisa with bare hands digging me out of what seems to be half of the Gobi desert.
In moments like this I realise the devilish streak Louisa has. Digging underneath the sand to free my lower parts, she quite freely takes advantage of me. I have to compose myself and have to endure the rubbing and squeezing without reacting too obviously, as James is just next to me. I suppose Louisa wants to make sure that I am exactly in the right mood when we come home and is already hinting towards which mood she wants me to be in.
I glower at her and she starts to giggle.
"It's fun." James squeals.
"It sure is." Louisa agrees ominously.
"Wait until we get home." I mouth silently.
"I can hardly wait." She mouths back.
"Look, Daddy's smiling!" James shouts ecstatically. He jumps up and jumps around, shouting out over and over again. "Daddy's smiling!"
Louisa uses this opportunity to bring her mouth close to my ear. "Leering is more like it, you Dark Horse."
"What did you expect….?!"
"Nothing less, nothing less…" Louisa runs her hand over my chest.
"Now get me out of here, or I will be stewed in my own juices."
"You're getting hot, are you?"
"Stop it!"
"Maybe you're right, maybe we should leave that for later."
I am quickly freed from my sandy imprisonment now. My trousers however, look a mess. I try to pat them as clean as possible. Louisa takes her own amusement out of making sure that my backside is 'really clean'. It seems a tendency for chastising comes with her job.
Finally we can have our picnic. Louisa is complaining that no Cornish picnic is complete without splits and Clotted Cream, but that Ruth failed to deliver on that front.
"Imagine, a Cornish farm without Clotted Cream. It's a sacrilege, really." Louisa complains. I can only agree with my aunt as Clotted Cream should be legally forbidden, as well as other high fat products.
Thankfully, Ruth, being a doctor herself, knows about the hazards of unhealthy food and no matter how long Louisa might have looked for something unhealthy to bring, this picnic meets the minimum requirements of nutritional value.
There are chicken sandwiches, Egg and Cress sandwiches and Cucumber sandwiches. Furthermore, we have several kinds of fruit, mainly what you can find on the farm at this time of year. So the summer berries should serve to keep the sweet tooth of Louisa and James happy without unfavourably affecting their BMI.
Louisa starts telling us about her childhood, when she would spend days at the beach or up in the moors with a friend of hers. As her friend lived on one of the farms on Bodmin Moor, they always had a pot of milk over a fire to produce their own Clotted Cream. She revels in her memories of her childhood picnics and how rich they had been.
If Louisa really had a diet like that as a kid, she either had a weight problem, quite a lot of exercise or a very poor metabolism. Just listening to all the indulgences makes me sick.
James, on the other hand, is absolutely stunned.
"You mean you had something like this all the time?!"
"Maybe not all the time," Louisa assures James, "but quite often. Almost every weekend in the summer, really."
"Cool."
"And we can have this, too, as soon as we're down here." She nods towards our son who beams like a cat who has stolen the milk.
"Can we, Daddy?"
"We'll see." I hate the idea of making a habit of wasting a day sitting in the sand and I'm dreading the thought of what Louisa will take for a picnic if she has her choice. On the other hand, I can see how happy Louisa and James are, and the whole purpose of moving back here is to make them happy.
"Pleaaaase!" James is already begging for more.
Louisa puts her hand on my thigh. "I'm sure we can find a way to make us all happy. Your Dad and I will figure something out." She looks at me and I nod.
"See, James. Don't worry, it won't be your last picnic."
"But I object to being buried alive again." I add. James looks towards his mother and both start to giggle.
Louisa leans onto my shoulder. "Don't worry. That was a one off. Promise."
Just now, the alarm from my smart phone informs me that it is time for us to go.
To be continued…
