The tail end of summer was just warm enough to wear a sleeveless top and a short skirt, while around her the countryside was turning from lush green to golden yellow and orange.
She leaned back in the small boat. George was standing at the back, punting them along the river. He insisted on wearing the daft straw hat as part of his uniform. She laughed at him, he smiled back.
They had left early that morning and had stopped for a picnic lunch, then set off again.
‘Hadn’t we better turn back before it gets too late?’ she called over her shoulder.
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