—I can’t take it anymore!— cried Emily, tossing her bag onto the sofa. —I need the seaside! Just lying in the sun all day like a lazy seal, then dancing till dawn. Music, cocktails, and not a single thought about work!
James chuckled. He was used to her dramatic outbursts. Emily was no ordinary girl—sharp-witted, sarcastic, occasionally prickly, but always genuine. She never pretended or put on airs. Being with her was effortless, even exhilarating. Most importantly, he never had to act around her.
They’d met a few months ago, and since then, James felt like he could breathe easier. No awkward silences, no forced conversations—just warmth and the quiet certainty that she was the one he wanted beside him. Always.
—Rough day at work?— he asked gently, stepping closer.
—Everyone’s just unbearable! ‘Emily, do this, Emily, do that!’—she huffed—Like no one else exists. Today, I nearly told the boss off. If I hadn’t held back, I’d be out of a job…
—Sounds like you definitely need a break,— James grinned. —We could escape somewhere, even if it’s not the seaside.
—To where? Best I’ll get is a day off. What’s the point of a one-day holiday?
—How about the countryside? My nan’s place. The air’s so fresh, just a walk knocks you out. And her pies—straight from the oven…
—The countryside?— Emily’s eyes widened. —Seriously? I’ve never even been.
—Never?
—Never. All my family’s from London. I’ve only seen cows on milk cartons.
—Then you’ve got to go! You’ve no idea how lovely it is. The river, the wood stove, stars at night, a bonfire…
—Oh, James, I wish I had your enthusiasm. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready to meet your nan.
—You’re missing out. She’s an absolute gem. Piles your plate with pies, serves mint tea—you’ll adore her.
—Well, if pies are on the table…— Emily smirked. —Fine. But on one condition—if I hate it, you owe me a whole new wardrobe. Because your nan’s cooking will ruin mine.
He laughed, while she couldn’t decide whether to join in or start panicking.
The journey wasn’t smooth. The last few miles rattled them along bumpy country lanes. James stayed calm, but Emily peered nervously out the window, half-expecting crumbling barns, manure piles, and geese launching an ambush.
But it wasn’t like that. The village was tidy, with proper roads, shops, even pavement. No cows in sight—just barefoot children, women with neat updos, and men chatting by their gates.
His nan greeted them as if she’d waited her whole life. She hugged Emily like family, flustered but warm, ushering them to a table heaving with roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, sausage rolls, and elderflower cordial.
Emily was stunned. Where was the stern, silent old woman? The backward village life she’d feared?
James beamed—he’d known it would be like this.
After lunch, he dragged her to the river. It was magic. Clear water, splashing kids, families grilling burgers on the bank. No shouting, no rush—just laughter, wind, and woodsmoke.
That night, Emily fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. Dawn woke her with golden light—her nan’s curtains were thin, almost sheer. She pulled on a jumper and stepped outside. Then froze.
The sky blushed pink. Sunlight crept over the hills. Distant cows lowed, birds sang, the air thick with dew and wild thyme. Everything breathed peace. Emily kicked off her slippers and stepped barefoot onto the damp grass. She stood, silent. The clutter in her soul washed clean.
—There you are,— came James’s voice behind her.
—I woke up… came out. It’s so quiet. So light here. I’ve never felt this calm.
—Like it?
—Yes. Can we come back?
—Of course. Again and again.
Emily hugged him tightly. A quiet joy ached in her chest. The seaside didn’t matter anymore. She’d found her peace—her heart’s quiet place—right here. And she knew she’d return, as often as she needed, to where the world let her breathe anew.
Sometimes, the truest escapes aren’t to far-off beaches, but to the places where life slows, and the soul remembers how to rest.
