Page 3 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

In the distance, she could see the glistening water of the River Ley through the trees as it wound its way from nearby Cranbridge village onwards through the countryside.

Around two decades ago, when the flooding had caused problems further down the river one winter, Flora’s grandad had dug out a large amount of earth to widen the bank of the river on their land and created a huge natural pond. It had helped slow down any floodwater, using nature to protect the villages and farms upstream from any damage.

Over the years since, nature had slowly reclaimed the space and it had become a magical place to Flora. Fed from the river and safely away from the muddy fields, the water was crystal clear. The sun was dappled as it lit up the water through the surrounding circle of trees. Birdsong filled the air, and on the far side of the pond, a couple of moorhens were preparing their nest for the arrival of their chicks.

It looked almost fairy-like that morning and, for a moment, her hands twitched to paint the view before the light changed. It had been years since Flora had painted anything, since leaving art college in fact. All of her paints and drawing pads were under her bed, gathering dust.

Much like her, thought Flora, allowing herself a smile of grim humour.

She was becoming fed up of being the sensible one, as her friends always told her she was. She wanted wild passion and excitement in her life before it was too late. Harriet and Katy had both found unexpected love in recent months and Libby was always travelling off to somewhere exotic with her job as a flight attendant, dating pilots and visiting amazing places.

Flora secretly envied her friends’ happiness and rich lives. But she didn’t have the luxury of excitement when she had to keep the farm afloat for both her and Grams.

Her twenties had passed by in the blink of an eye and it was likely that her thirties would go the same way. She hadn’t even dipped her feet in the water in front of her in recent years, as the busy summers on the farm had taken up so much of her time.

Well, it was sunny now, she thought, looking at a wide ray of light across the water.

The sensible part of Flora reminded her that it was only April and the water would likely be freezing cold. But the other part of her, the part that she had thought hidden so deep inside that it rarely surfaced anymore, suddenly sprang to life. It told her that she had nothing to lose but the feelings in her toes if the water was that cold.

She suddenly decided that, for once, she was going to do something ridiculous and impetuous. She was going to follow her heart and just enjoy herself without the ever-present worry of money, work and duty.

Flora swiftly moved forward to stand next to one of the large boulders on the side of the lake and flung off her wellies. Next came the socks and then her jeans. She quickly shrugged off her jacket before taking off her jumper and T-shirt in one swoop of her arms.

Then, in just her underwear, she stepped around the boulder and waded into the clear water. She gasped at the extreme cold, but she went further in until she was standing up to her shoulders in the water. It was sharp, almost painfully cold on her skin, but it reminded her that she was still young and free. That she was still alive.

Why had it been so long since she had done this? she wondered. Perhaps she should begin taking a few risks now and then, she decided.

She sank down into the freezing water and lay on her back, floating and staring up at the blue sky above. She spread her arms out wide and, for the first time in such a long time, she felt at peace.

But just as she had reached a calm state of mind, she suddenly heard a deep male voice call out from somewhere nearby.

‘Is this a private party or can anyone join in?’

Flora quickly rose up in the water, spinning around to find out who had spoken.

She stared in horror as she saw a handsome man, leaning on the bonnet of a red Ferrari and smiling at her whilst Flora stood there in just her underwear in the middle of the lake!

2

Nico Rossi had woken up in the driver’s seat of the Ferrari with a crick in his neck and an aching back. The classic sports car might be glorious to look at, but it was certainly not a great choice for sleeping accommodation.

He had arrived in Cranfield in the middle of the night after a long drive from the port of Dover. In the darkness of the countryside, the car had bounced along the potholed lane leading to Strawberry Hill Farm. However, it was so late that he hadn’t wanted to wake up his grandfather’s elderly friend. After a search on the internet came up with no hotels in the vicinity, he had crept the car past the farmhouse and followed the lane where it became a track and parked up where it ended.

He had endured a restless, uncomfortable night in the narrow seat, but dawn had brought glorious spring sunshine. Feeling exhausted, he had clambered out of the car and made it as far as leaning on the bonnet, willing himself to wake up in the fresh air and wishing he had a strong cup of espresso to drink.

He hadn’t even realised he had parked next to a small lake in the darkness the previous evening. It was certainly a beautiful setting, somewhat magical with the rays of sun shining across the water. He felt a moment of peace after so many days of upset and misery.

However, his solitude was broken as an attractive brunette arrived nearby. He had been about to call out a greeting when he found himself watching in total bemusement as she suddenly stripped off down to her underwear and waded into the water right in front of him! At first, he thought he must have been dreaming, but to his surprise – and immense pleasure – he realised that she was most definitely real.

She was currently standing up to her waist in the water glaring at him. ‘Who are you?’ she snapped, trying to cover her bra with her hands. ‘You’re trespassing on my land!’

‘Then I suggest you come out of the water and arrest me,’ replied Nico smoothly, his English perfect despite his words carrying a soft Italian accent.

He couldn’t help but smile at her. She looked so delightfully indignant, standing there with her long dark hair plastered against her creamy skin. She looked like a beautiful but extremely angry water nymph.

‘I shall call the police!’ she carried on, with a toss of her long hair, which caused the water to ripple out from where she stood.

‘From over there? That’s a trick I’d like to see,’ he replied. ‘Especially because I can see your mobile sticking out of your coat pocket.’