“Nothing. Just you.”
She looked around.
“What about packing cases? It’s a lot longer than two weeks now and different destinations.”
“All taken care of. I can’t take credit for that, Erica, Heidi and Daisy sorted your wardrobe. Mine too as they were not impressed with my miniscule variety of clothes.”
Freya giggled and slipped her hand into his. If their wedding day was anything to go by, then whatever he had planned she was up for. So long as he was there.
He kissed her for a minute, long enough for her to want to drop to the floor there and then with him, but too soon, Luke pulled away, grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room. He stopped her in the hallway, flipped off the switch, and then closed the door.
“We’re going to fill the second wardrobe with our memories, our family’s memories of adventures.”
Hands again linked he tugged her along the corridor and she noticed her divine purple high heels were dangling from his other hand. He took them down the staircase, switching off lights as they went, got to the back door, and opened it wide.
Bailey was waiting for them with a lit torch that would be better suited to seventeenth century cave exploration.
“Mrs Turner,” Bailey said and gave a short head bow.
“Hey, Bailey,” Freya answered.
Bailey turned his attention to Luke.
“This way, Mr Turner, Mrs Turner,” he said.
Luke locked up the cottage and then passed his keys to Bailey.
“Maggie and Bailey are going to keep an eye on the place. Take care of your lavender pots,” Luke told her.
“Thank you, Bailey and thank Maggie too,” Freya said.
They were on the move, trailing behind Bailey who moved spritely across the lawns. Luke held Freya’s hand tightly. His fingers pulsed around hers like he was nervous. She didn’t know why he would be nervous. She was married to the man of her dreams, living next door to her best friends. He’d given her siblings she never had growing up, and the best wedding day she could ever wish for. It paled compared to the folder she’d spent years cobbling together. Freya didn’t mention his nervousness or his sweating palms. She held on tight as she walked across the grass in her gorgeous shoes which cost a single florin. She needed to send a message to Erica when she got to her phone.
Her phone. Her purse.
Freya halted, dragging Luke back a few steps as he’d carried on.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.
“I forgot my purse at the wedding reception. I was so excited about getting to the next part, I forgot to pick it up.”
Luke laughed.
“It was collected and is where we’re going next. I promise.”
Bailey hadn’t waited for them. So they ran hand in hand to where Bailey had progressed which was at the top of the path at the far side of the lawns that led down to the beach.
“Where are we going?” Freya asked, now tucked to his side as they followed Bailey down the narrow path.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he replied.
When they got to the sand at the bottom of the pathway, Freya went to kick off her shoes.
“Keep them on, Peaches. It’s too dark to see what we might step on. I don’t want you cutting your feet on a crustacean scuttling about,” he said.
Freya plastered herself to Luke like he was a life raft.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been on this beach at night,” she said, rubber necking her way to where she was being led.