by Fay Keenan
‘All set?’ she asked as Alex made his way over to her car.
‘I think so,’ he replied, hefting his holdall into the open boot of Sophie’s car. ‘I’m glad I’ve got you by my side to answer any complicated questions from the public!’
Sophie laughed. ‘They generally just want to know the difference between cider apples and eating apples, honestly, and to snag a few freebies. You’ll be fine.’
The drive to Shepton Mallet was relatively peaceful, and only hotted up once they approached the showground. Set in some two hundred and forty acres, the ground was used throughout the year for various sporting and agricultural events, but the Royal West Country Show was the jewel in the crown. Four days of farm machinery, heavy horses, local delicacies and more country wear than you could shake an artisan walking stick at, it encapsulated the rural ethos of the county of Somerset like no other show. Sophie remembered coming regularly as a child, and being as enchanted by the Dancing Diggers, huge canary yellow JCBs, as the heavy horses.
As they turned through the gates and followed the signs marked ‘Exhibitors’ Area’, Sophie saw row upon row of motorhomes, horse boxes and tents.
‘I’m glad we didn’t have to bring our own accommodation!’ she joked as they passed a couple who were obviously having an animated discussion about the correct way to erect their tent. Jonathan had assured them that, by the time they got there, the yurts would be fully assembled.
Alex grinned back, and then pointed out of the car window to his left. ‘Looks like that’s us, over there.’
Sophie pulled off the track and onto the grass as she spotted a handwritten sign tapped into the ground that read ‘Somerset Glamping Welcomes Carter’s Cider’. Parking the car, it was only when she’d got out that she realised that there was, in fact, only one yurt in evidence. Her stomach fluttered. They had come to the right part of the camping area, hadn’t they?
As if on cue, her mobile phone pinged with an email. She scrolled quickly through it, the flutters in her stomach increasing.
‘Is everything OK?’ Alex asked as he came around to her side of the car.
‘I’ve just had an email from Tom,’ Sophie replied, glancing up from her phone. ‘He says he’s sorry, but there was a problem with the second yurt, apparently. They unpacked it and the canvas had ripped, right down the back, so we’re down to one. They’ve put a bottle of champagne in the fridge to apologise.’
‘Well, I’m sure we’ll manage,’ Alex said, and then a frown wrinkled his brow. ‘If you’re OK to share with me? If not, we can always go back home in the evenings.’
Sophie smiled nervously. In truth, the thought of sharing a yurt with Alex was both tantalising and terrifying, but she also knew that the atmosphere of an evening at the Royal West Country Show was meant to be well worth staying for. She shook her head. ‘I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Let’s not worry too much until we have to.’
Alex smiled. ‘OK.’ Popping open the boot of the car, he pulled out his holdall and Sophie’s smaller one. ‘Shall we go and take a look?’
They approached the yurt, and Sophie simultaneously found herself wishing for two single beds, and the biggest, comfiest king size she could imagine. Her fingers fumbled as she unlaced the fabric door of the yurt and stepped inside. She gave a gasp as the bed situation was made clear immediately. Standing proud in the centre of the space was a large, wrought iron bedstead, complete with patchwork quilt.
‘Well, that’s interesting!’ she said, turning back to Alex, who’d stepped inside the yurt with her.
Alex, however, was looking around, a look of amusement on his face. ‘You’re not joking,’ he said. ‘I might be missing something here, but is this really what the Brits call camping?’
Inside the yurt was, along with the huge bed that had caused Sophie such consternation, a dining table, a fridge, and a very swish camping stove. Spread along the floor, covering the ground sheets, was a selection of rugs.
‘This is the first time I’ve seen a fridge and a dining table in a tent,’ Alex teased as Sophie threw her holdall down on one of the flat topped packing trunks that sat at the far end of the yurt. He gestured to the centre of the tall dome of the tent. ‘And who would want to light a wood burning stove at the end of July?’
‘Haven’t you learned anything about Somerset weather yet?’ Sophie turned back towards him with a smile. ‘It can get quite chilly at night, even in the summer.’
Alex, who had frequently camped out in British Columbian temperatures of minus ten and lower, refrained from comment.
Sophie laughed nervously. ‘It’s not exactly how I remember family camping trips, but at least we’ll have somewhere comfortable to lay our heads after spending all day on our feet talking to customers.’ She glanced towards the bed again, and her cheeks felt hot.
Alex followed her gaze, finally acknowledging the large bed. He looked away hesitantly, and then grinned when he saw that there was also a chaise longue off to one side of the sleeping area. ‘Looks like I’m on that, then.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Sophie said. ‘We can alternate nights if you like.’
‘How about we sort it out later?’ Alex said. Despite their growing closeness, now that they were actually inside the yurt together, neither of them were too confident about voicing their thoughts, and Sophie was more than happy to let it slide for the moment. She’d not shared a bed with anyone except the cat since she’d split up with Mark, and the fear of how she might react, even with someone she fancied as much as Alex, was starting to nibble at her insides. What if she still wasn’t ready? Having the miscarriage alternately felt like a long time ago, and like yesterday, and her emotions were still in turmoil. Was it simply that she was feeling self-conscious about going to the next level with Alex, or would she have felt the same, whoever he was? What if she let him close to her and she couldn’t handle it? Berating herself for becoming so distracted, she tried to focus back on the reasons they were at the show in the first place. The rest would have to wait.
‘We’d better dump our stuff and get over to where the concession is,’ she said. ‘We’ll be on the stall soon, and we need to be ready.’
Alex nodded. ‘OK.’
And with that, all thoughts of the sleeping arrangements temporarily forgotten, they headed back out of the yurt. As they walked, Sophie briefed Alex from the notes that Tom had sent over yesterday afternoon. ‘The concession was set up last night, so we just need to go and check it over. We’re going to do tasting demos at various points during the day; I think the first one is due to happen at about two-thirty, and then every hour or so after that, but really it’s about handing out some samples, connecting with the public and showing a positive face for the brand.’
‘If it’s OK with you, I’ll direct all of the complicated tasting and blending questions your way, then!’ Alex smiled. ‘I’ve learned so much from you, but you’ve got ten years’ experience on me, after all.’
Sophie smiled back. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ She handed him a clipboard that contained notes on the most common blends that Carter’s used for their mainstream ciders, and some of the more obscure varieties that had been used to create the more artisan drinks. They had barrels and bottles of all of them to hand out as samples, and conduct tasting competitions with, over the next few days.
‘Just remember that you shouldn’t taste along with the customers,’ Sophie warned, ‘or I’ll have to carry you back to the yurt!’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Alex said wryly.
The first afternoon of the show was busy; due to the warm weather, it seemed that every visitor was stopping off at the cider tent to sample the Carter’s merchandise. Sophie found herself constantly bombarded by curious people, and that she was really enjoying facing the public and answering their questions. From time to time, she glanced at Alex, who was also being kept occupied by show goers. From the look on his face, though, he was enjoying it as much as she was.
‘Everythi
ng OK?’ she murmured as they both said goodbye to a particularly curious couple in their seventies, who had spent quite a while tasting the different samples on the makeshift bar area.
‘All good, thanks,’ Alex replied, smiling down at her. ‘And I think I’ve learned just as much from some of the customers as they have from me this afternoon.’
‘Well, we’re only half joking when we say that cider’s in the blood around here!’ Sophie laughed. ‘Everyone’s got an apple tree and an anecdote.’
As if on cue, a couple of women wandered into the tent and headed towards the Carter’s concession. They were deep in conversation, and kept glancing to where Sophie and Alex were standing. Sophie smiled to herself; Alex was certainly proving to be a draw as far as female cider drinkers were concerned, and these two seemed to be no exception. As they came closer, she caught a snippet of their muttered conversation.
‘It isn’t…’
‘It is, I’m telling you…’
‘Well, why don’t you ask him?’
‘Can I help you, ladies?’ Sophie asked, gesturing to the bottles in front of her. ‘Which one of these would you like to try today?’
‘Thanks, love, but we’d like him to serve us.’ The brunette gave a mischievous smile. ‘And while he’s at it, he can tell us how the MD of the company still looks so young.’ She turned to Alex. ‘What’s your secret, love? Your hair’s a bit longer than in your company photograph, but it suits you.’
Was Sophie imagining it or did Alex’s back stiffen? In the blink of an eye, he’d relaxed his posture again, however, and he gave the two women a bright smile.
‘My apologies, ladies, but I’m not the MD, just an intern.’
The other woman gave a ribald laugh. ‘That’s an accent and a half. And you’re the best looking intern I’ve ever seen. Where are you from?’ Clearly having drunk enough already to forego too much tact, she waved a five pound note at Alex in exchange for two bottles of Eloise.
Alex took the money. ‘I’m from Canada, ma’am. I hope you enjoy the rest of the show.’
‘Fancy enjoying it with us?’ the other woman asked. ‘We can show you all the good bits.’
‘That’s a kind offer, but I’m working for all of it,’ Alex replied. ‘You have a good day, now.’
As they wandered off, arm in arm, Alex turned back to Sophie, who was regarding him quizzically.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Matthew would be flattered that they thought he was still so young,’ Sophie replied, grinning.
Alex turned away, and for a second Sophie thought she’d said something to upset him. Then, turning back to her after a beat or two, he smiled again. ‘No way,’ he said. ‘I don’t see it myself. Must be the – what’s that expression you used the other night? – beer goggles talking.’
Sophie grinned. ‘Cider goggles in this case,’ she teased. ‘Although they seemed to like the look of you.’
Alex drew a little closer to Sophie and reached out to squeeze one of her hands. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said softly. ‘I wasn’t looking back.’
Sophie felt her stomach turn a somersault. They still hadn’t fully addressed the issue of the sleeping arrangements, but at that moment, she knew that it was highly unlikely that either of them would be spending the night on the chaise longue.
The rest of the afternoon and the evening seemed to fly by and before they knew it, the summer night was beginning to fall as Sophie and Alex wandered back to the yurt. Having passed the evening in the bar on site with a few of the other cider makers who were visiting the show, they were both relaxed, but not too far gone to lose their way back to the yurt. It had been a good day, and both of them felt they had fulfilled their roles as ambassadors for Carter’s Cider admirably, but it was definitely time to relax.
Sophie unlaced the fabric of the yurt and headed inside, mindful of the fact that they had another long day tomorrow. Alex, however, lingered at the entrance. It was a clear night, and the first stars were beginning to peer out from the dark grey velvet of the sky. Orion hovered overhead, the stars of the belt growing in intensity as the sky darkened, and the three quarters full moon was on the rise.
‘It’s a beautiful night,’ Alex said, looking up at the stars. ‘Back home, I used to camp out in the backyard a lot in the summer, and in the winter sometimes, too. Mom used to grumble a bit about it, worrying I’d get too cold, but I always liked to grab my sleeping bag and sleep under the stars.’
Sophie rejoined Alex at the door. ‘I used to search for Orion in the sky when I was away from home,’ she said, staring upwards. ‘It always looked as though it was just over my mum’s house when I was at home, and I always hoped it was there, watching over her when I was away. Of course, now she’s got her new life and home in France, she doesn’t need Orion any more.’ She smiled. ‘That probably sounds really silly, doesn’t it?’
Alex looked down at her. ‘Not at all.’ He swallowed hard, and Sophie felt her hand being taken by one of his. ‘Sometimes, after Mom died, I’d look up at the sky and trace the constellations that I remembered seeing from the back yard when I was a kid. She told me all of their names, one night, when she decided to camp out there with me, and now I always look for them when I’m alone at night. It’s like, in some way, she’s still with me.’
Sophie squeezed his hand. ‘I’m sure she’d love to know that,’ she said softly. ‘Somehow, looking at the stars, you can kind of believe you’re never alone, wherever you are.’
Alex turned towards her, and she saw the moonlight reflected in his eyes.
‘What is it?’ she said softly.
‘You look beautiful in the moonlight,’ he replied. ‘So beautiful, that I’m not even going to ask, this time, if I can kiss you.’ And with that, he raised his other hand to her cheek and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
Sophie’s knees turned to water and she kissed Alex back hungrily. Standing in the doorway of the yurt, they drew closer together, eventually stumbling through to the inside of the tent.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that all day,’ Alex said breathlessly. ‘Watching you just out of reach, doing such a brilliant job, I just wanted to drag you back here and kiss you.’
Sophie laughed nervously. ‘I’ve been wanting that, too.’
The solar powered fairy lights that were strung from the beams of the yurt had come on, and filled the tent with a warm, inviting light. Sophie broke free of Alex’s embrace and took his hand again. ‘Come here,’ she said softly, leading him towards the bed. ‘I feel like I want to be lying down if you’re going to kiss me like that again.’ They sat down on the soft mattress, and, taking the lead, Sophie pushed Alex down towards the duck down pillows at the top of the iron bedstead. Hovering above him for a delicious, anticipatory moment, she then leaned down and kissed him, her lips tasting the last of the cider that Alex had drunk. Straddling him, she ran a hand through his dark hair, and felt a shiver of desire as he moaned into her kiss, his hips rising as he pulled her closer. Gasping for air a moment later, she found herself underneath him as he rolled over, raking his fingers through her hair and kissing her as if it were their last moment on earth together.
‘Wait,’ Alex murmured as their lips broke apart. ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.’ His eyes were almost black in the warm light, and Sophie smiled into the kiss as she brought her lips to his again.
‘I want to do this,’ she said softly. ‘Or hadn’t you noticed?’ She looked at him, and suddenly all the worries she’d had this afternoon seemed to dissipate. Maybe it was the couple of bottles of cider she’d drunk, or maybe, for the first time in a long while, something just felt right, but all she wanted was to spend the night getting to know this man and his body, intimately.
‘Oh, I’ve noticed.’ Alex’s voice was husky with desire. ‘And I kind of like it.’
‘Good,’ Sophie murmured, wriggling so that they were torso to torso. ‘I’m glad about that.’ She continued to kiss him, her mouth
wandering lazily from his lips to his neck, playfully nibbling until he was pulling her even closer to him.
‘Oh, God, Sophie,’ he murmured between kisses. ‘You have no idea what you do to me.’ His hands roamed from her hair down her body, brushing her breasts and down her waist to rest in the gap between her jeans and her fitted navy blue T-shirt. She shivered again at the warmth of his palm on her bare skin, and reached down to pull his T-shirt out from where it had caught in his jeans, eliciting another low moan from Alex’s throat.
‘I want you so much, Alex,’ she whispered, allowing her fingertips to trace the line of his hips and up his spine, discovering the body that had fuelled her fantasies since the day she’d bumped into him on her grandmother’s landing. She didn’t even care that she was going to have the most horrendous stubble burn on her cheeks if he kept kissing her that way; she just wanted him never to stop.
Pausing to allow Sophie to pull his T-shirt off, Alex revealed a torso that was just as finely toned as it had been that morning on the landing. Still pale, despite the summer sunshine, his muscular shoulders and chest filled Sophie with desire. Without missing a beat, Sophie slipped her T-shirt over her head and Alex bent his head to kiss her collarbone, hands seeking the rounded fullness of her breasts beneath their campion pink bra. This time it was her turn to groan as his warm fingers caressed her through the thin lace of the fabric, until once again she felt his weight upon her.
‘You have the most wonderful hands,’ she whispered between kisses. ‘I want to feel them all over me.’
Alex pulled back to look at her, and Sophie’s heart failed at the intensity in his eyes. ‘Are you sure?’ he said softly. ‘I don’t want to rush you.’