It rained all night last night, or so it seemed to me, for every time I awoke it was raining, and I could hear the waves crashing and pounding the shore and seawall below our house built into the cliff. At eight o’clock this morning, when I awoke for real, I asked Chris not to draw open the curtains on the day – I knew it would be grey and I could not face it straight away. Instead, I just wanted to snuggle up in bed and prolong my hibernation. Chris was fully dressed already, which was why he lay on top of the covers and I didn’t get a cuddle; he put out his hand and stroked my arm but I was in a funny position and found the weight of his arm, dragging on my chest, too heavy.

We remained in bed for another hour and a half; it wasn’t so much a sleep-in, or even a “love-in” (not with swathes of bedlinen and Chris’s full quota of day clothes between our willing but difficult to get at bodies); rather, we had a pleasant “talk-in” about everything under the sun, had there been any sun, which there wasn’t because the room was still dark from the dark grey of the world behind the bedroom windows, but it was nice because, cocooned in the darkness, we felt remote from the greyness that lay in wait (not to be confused with the lightness you feel at a Weight-Watchers’ meeting when you weigh in late – sorry). At length, when we had exhausted our conversation about trolls (the darkness seems to inspire such topics), the telephone rang like an alarm bell telling us we should rouse ourselves from our “pastoral turpitude” (well, that may be a bit over-the-top but we do feel slovenly if we stay in bed for more than an hour after waking). Chris took the call but it was for me; still in only my figure-hugging little vest (you know I have put on a few pounds recently!) and sexy red bikini panties, I ran upstairs, not because the call was secret – reception is poor at the bottom of the house.

It was Belinda, the secretary from the Havana Club, booking in my free talk on painting for December, and I asked her to kindly call to remind me nearer the time because I don’t have a calendar for next year yet.

“I’ll bring along a few paintings and invite the members to ask questions,” I said,”that will help maintain their interest and keep them awake” (I’ve talked to the Havana Club before).

“Oh, they’ll still fall asleep!” Belinda laughed.

“Well, I had better get dressed now, Belinda.”

“Sorry to call before you were up…” her voice showed surprise.

“Not at all, I meant that I’m up – been up for ages actually – but I’m still in my pyjamas, that’s all,” I answered, thinking on my feet. (For some strange reason I didn’t want her to have a mental picture of me, in my little white vest and red panties, standing there talking to her. And it had more to do with my dignity than her sexual orientation, of which, admittedly, I am unsure.)

A minute or two later I hot-footed it back downstairs to the cool blackness of the bedroom; Chris was fast asleep on top of the bed. I drew back the curtains to expose the grey of the day and Chris pretended that he had not fallen asleep. The rain lashed at the window panes.

“I guess you want me to get up?” he said with glint in his eye, while the other one roamed my semi-naked body.

“Yes please,” I said playfully, whilst stripping off my top. “You know what I really want – don’t you?”

“I believe I do,”  answered Chris, as he stood up from the bed.

He walked over to me, put his arms around me, and quite out of the blue, he spanked me on the bottom.

“You want to go for a walk in the rain- don’t you? You naughty girl!”

And should you be interested, I had my way. We dressed for the Arctic winds and rain, and before leaving I popped my mobile phone in my pocket – just in case there were any big waves worth photographing. Down on the seawall it was so grey and miserable that I had my doubts about finding anything worthwhile to photograph; but, before long, something magical happened; patches of blue appeared in the sky, and within ten minutes it was a beautiful sunshiny day. Here are some of the photos! Incidentally, the lady in red (dressed also for the rain and cold) is my Mum’s friend, Fran, who thought her children might enjoy to see her on my blog; and the little dog is simply there because he looks cute.