One Perfect Summer

now, but I suppose I should. I turn around and lie on my stomach, facing up the hill. There’s something deliriously comfortable about it. A seagull flies over my head, high above the ocean, but low against the land. It’s so close I can hear its wings flapping. I try to read. The tall grass around me sways in the breeze. It’s so peaceful and quiet. My whole body feels relaxed. The words are in front of my eyes, but they’re not going in. I close my eyes for a moment and feel the warm sun on my back.
    The next thing I know, Dyson is licking my face.
    ‘Argh!’
    ‘DYSON!’ Joe shouts.
    I push the dog away, but I’m in hysterics. Joe is halfway up the steep incline, trying to run.
    ‘Sorry!’ He’s panting when he reaches me. He stretches out the bottom of his T-shirt and uses it to wipe Dyson’s slobber from my cheeks. I can’t stop laughing. ‘Gross dog strikes again,’ he says.
    He checks my face with his fingertips to make sure I’m free of slobber. His hands seem to linger. My giggles dissolve and I steadily meet his eyes as butterflies swarm into my stomach.
    ‘God, I fancy you,’ he says suddenly, and I know in that moment that he’s going to kiss me. My heart starts pounding ten to the dozen. I tilt my face up towards him and his lips touch mine, gently at first, then deepening to become more passionate. I know it’s a cliché, but it’s as if fireworks are going off inside my head. My whole body tingles like nothing before.
    He pulls away, but stays close. And then an enormous slobbery dog tongue comes out of nowhere to lick my cheek.
    ‘Argh!’ I scream again.
    ‘Dyson, get off!’ Joe shouts, shoving him away. We look at each other and crack up laughing. ‘Next time I kiss you, I’ll make sure he’s not around.’
    ‘I don’t want to wait that long,’ I say, drawing him near. He’s still smiling when his lips touch mine.
    We wander, hand in hand, back to the cottage. The jittery feeling doesn’t leave me and it’s blissful. We take our time, but we’re home far too quickly. My mum’s car isn’t in the driveway.
    ‘Do you want to come in for some lunch?’ I ask hopefully.
    ‘Um . . .’ He checks his watch.
    ‘My mum is out,’ I add.
    ‘Yeah, go on, then.’
    I beam from ear to ear as I lead him to the front door.
    ‘Where do you think she’s gone?’ he asks, following me inside but leaving Dyson on the driveway. We’ve closed the gate to make sure he can’t escape.
    ‘Probably sitting on a beach somewhere, sketching.’
    ‘Have you got any of her work, here?’
    ‘In the conservatory. I’ll show you in a bit. Shall I make some sandwiches?’
    ‘Sounds good.’
    ‘Ham and cheese? Peanut butter? What do you fancy?’
    ‘You,’ he says with a smile, pulling me in for another kiss. He presses me up against the counter and I wrap my arms around his neck. The kiss is over far too quickly. ‘But I’ve already told you that,’ he adds. ‘Ham and cheese. Let me help you.’
    We work side by side and, before taking our food out to the garden we pause in the conservatory to have a quick look at Mum’s paintings.
    ‘I don’t know anything about art, but I like them,’ Joe says.
    ‘That’s all you need to know, in my opinion. That’s what it’s about, right? What you like and what you don’t like?’
    ‘I guess so. Smartarse.’
    ‘I prefer Brainiac.’
    He chuckles and follows me outside to the sunny garden. We sit on the soft, spongy grass and Joe tucks into his sandwich. I take a bite of mine, but I’m not very hungry. The winged caterpillars are taking up all the room in my stomach.
    ‘I like this cottage,’ he says.
    ‘It’s nice, isn’t it? But your pub is in a great location. Do you live upstairs?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘You must have an amazing view.’
    He nods. ‘My bedroom is the best thing about living there because it faces the fields instead of the car park at the back. I’d probably appreciate it more if my parents weren’t always knocking about.’
    ‘Is it noisy?’
    ‘I don’t mean knocking about in that way.’
    ‘No, I know.’ I smile and he touches my face fondly.
    ‘It would be noisy if I ever spent any time in my bedroom,’ he explains. ‘But I’d rather get outside with Dyson. Anyway, I work most nights, so I’m usually the last one upstairs.’
    ‘You work a lot.’
    ‘I have to.’
    ‘Have you saved up much money towards a car?’
    ‘It’s going alright. They pay me as little as possible and then I still