Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Rita sat near the back of the bus, her bag on her lap, fingers absently tapping a rhythm against the strap. She was on her way down to the bay to pay Betty for this week’s hampers and also to pop into Sail Away to see Jude about the future retreat reads.
As the number seven trundled past the drive that led up to Hawthorn Acre, something caught her eye.
She turned instinctively toward the window.
There, at the farm gate, stood Jago. Tall, dark and as handsome as ever with Meg, his trusty sheepdog, at his feet.
And beside him, laughing, head thrown back, was a young man leaning against a gleaming silver Porsche.
Rita’s stomach lurched. It looked just like her Thom, who was beginning to look more like her Archie each day. A double whammy of confusion.
She blinked hard and looked again. The bus was already turning the corner, trees swallowing the view.
Her forehead furrowed in confusion. No, it couldn’t have been.
Thom hadn’t had anything to do with the Jenkens, ever.
And surely he would have said if he was coming to Seahaven.
But the confident way he was standing… The way he threw his head back when he laughed, just like his father had done before him.
It seemed so familiar it made her throat tighten.
You’re tired, she told herself, shaking her head gently. Too much going on. You’re seeing things.
But as the bus approached the harbour, a quiet unease settled in her gut.
Jude was busy serving a customer when Rita pushed open the door to her favourite bookshop.
Needing a second to quieten her restless mind, she went to the back of the shop, got herself an espresso from the fancy coffee machine, sat on one of the Lloyd Loom chairs and took in the busy Tuesday morning view of the harbour.
A fishing boat chugged steadily out towards the open ocean, its engine humming low and purposeful.
Nearby, a Seahaven Bay Tours boat was being hosed down by the crew, sunlight catching the spray as they readied it for a day of trips along the coast.
‘You OK, Rita?’ Jude asked politely as if he had noticed the lack of her usual zesty energy. ‘It’s not like you to stop and stare.’
She nodded too fast. ‘Yes. No. Oh, it’s probably nothing. I just thought I saw someone earlier, but it couldn’t have been him.’
Jude didn’t ask. Instead, with folded arms, he leaned against the bookshelves and began to recite to her.
‘Why do you make me leave the house
And think for a breath it is you I see
At the end of the alley of bending boughs
Where so often at dusk you used to be;
Till in darkening dankness
The yawning blankness
Of the perspective sickens me!’
A tear began to roll down Rita’s cheek. ‘“The Going”.’
Jude nodded. ‘One of Hardy’s finest, in my humble opinion. All that loss and yearning for his first wife, whom he met down here in Cornwall, actually.’
‘I don’t know much about his real life.’ Rita downed her espresso.
‘He was a tortured character like most of our literary greats.’
Rita sighed deeply. ‘I must have a read-up.’
Jude joined her in the adjacent chair. ‘Grief, regret, memory… it never follows the rules, does it? Pops up when you least expect it. It’s not just the person we mourn, sometimes. It’s the could-have-beens, too.’
‘Tell me to bugger off if you want to, but who did you lose, Jude?’ Rita asked gently.
‘Long-term boyfriend left me for someone else.’ He took a breath.
‘It had been going downhill for a while, but I ignored it.’ He wobbled.
‘Smashed my heart in two, so I ran away and on arriving here and having time to be introspective, I realised I’d spent so long chasing crumbs of affection, I’d forgotten what it felt like to simply be at peace with myself.
No drama. No longing. Just… stillness. And then look what happened…
I took over Sail Away and followed my real passion. ’
‘Well, it suits you, sir.’ Rita smiled. ‘The stillness and of course this wonderful bookshop.’
Jude grinned. ‘I was thinking maybe a selection of Thomas Hardy for next week’s books. I aim to focus on authors and poets with some kind of tenuous connection to Cornwall. Do you think poetry would work?’
‘I think the guests should think themselves lucky they are getting such an added luxury. I’ve decided on two books for a month’s stay and any less than that, just the one.’
‘That’s fine by me.’ Jude smiled. ‘I really appreciate the business, thank you.’
Rita took a sip of coffee. ‘And Hardy is perfect. It might do some of them good to delve into the mind of a man who emphasises that whatever emotional weight we place on the moment, nature is unmoved. That it is bigger than any of us.’
‘You’re one cool woman, do you know that, Rita Jory?’
Rita blushed. Jude grinned as she stood up and threw her cardboard cup in the bin. ‘Thanks, Jude.’
‘No, thank you. You’re a good soul, Rita, and the retreat is a wonderful idea. I saw a flyer the other day that said to watch this space regarding opening up some of the classes to everyone. A cute Spanish guy was handing them out…’
‘That’s Teo. I think he might have said the same about you too.’ Rita winked.
‘Oof, OK,’ Jude replied camply, and laughed.
‘Drop me a message.’ She handed the bookseller one of her newly printed resort cards. ‘And I’ll send over the finished schedule. Half-price sessions for you, of course.’
Jude frowned and shook his head. ‘Rita, that’s not the way to run a business. But allowing me to provide the retreat books at cost price, then, is.’ He held out his hand. ‘Deal.’
‘Deal.’ Rita grinned.
She walked towards the door and looked back. ‘And Jude, it would be such a waste if you didn’t let somebody else in one day, you know.’
Jude gulped. ‘Don’t be going all Tennyson on me now.’
A few moments later, Rita pushed open the door to Jilly’s Pilates studio and eyed the nearest Reformer machine like it was a creature that might bite her.
At the noise of the bell, Jilly swept in from the back in her Lycra uniform, hair tied tightly back, make-up flawless.
‘I knew you couldn’t resist coming back.’ Jilly laughed. ‘Let’s have a go at your pelvic floor today, see if you like that.’
‘I actually only popped in to see if you’d be willing to offer a small discount on your classes for my wellness groups. Thought it would give me a broader treatment range to offer, plus bring you some extra business.’
‘Ah, that’d be boss, thanks! Of course, I can do that, anything to help you out and keep the wolves from our doors. Now come on, get on your back, girl.’
Rita, already in her fitness gear from running around at the retreat earlier, lay back on one of the Reformer machines as Jilly adjusted a strap with expert flair.
‘Now, pop your feet here… and no farting. The acoustics in here are savage.’ Jilly laughed at her own coarseness.
Rita laughed too. ‘It’s my biggest fear.’
With Jilly’s help, Rita cautiously put her legs in the straps, flinching as the springs creaked.
Jilly went into teaching voice. ‘Right. Breathe in… lift your hips… and engage that fanny floor like you’re holding in a secret.’
Rita burst out laughing but gave it a go. Her limbs trembled almost immediately. ‘Jesus, I can feel muscles I never knew I had.’
‘That’s the idea,’ Jilly said with a wink. ‘You’ll be shagging like you’re at a hen party in Benidorm in no time.’
‘God, it’s been a long time since I did that.’
‘I know you’re still grieving but…’ Jilly raised an eyebrow, ‘sex is incredibly good for you, gets the blood flowing, boosts your mood, and if nothing else burns a good few calories.’
Rita laughed again. ‘Jilly Cooper. You’re incorrigible.’
‘Just like my namesake, well, her characters, at least. I say watch Rivals and start channelling Sarah Stratton… the ultimate man-eater. Now, how are you feeling today? Mrs Munroe tells me your guests have arrived.’
‘So, I guess you know their hair colour, what they had for breakfast and possibly what time they are visiting Number Two, my toilet block.’
‘Genuis.’ Jilly laughed as Rita continued to lift her hips gently up and down.
‘I’m good, actually, thanks for asking. Having a focus has taken my mind off Archie, to be honest. And the missing will.’
‘Ah. One of those.’ Jilly released the straps. ‘My next class is not for half an hour. Come and have a coffee with me.’
Rita followed Jilly over to the fitness balls at the reception desk, and took a seat, perching carefully as Jilly handed her a cup of coffee.
‘Sit tall, hold that pelvis. Wherever you are, just do it. You will thank me in the future, I promise you.’ Jilly took a sip from her own mug.
Rita balanced awkwardly.
‘Can I just say, Rita, that what you say to me is what you say to me. I never gossip. Living with a con for the whole of my married life, it was more than my life was worth.’ She sighed deeply.
Rita took a drink of her coffee. ‘I respect that and it’s kind of why I wanted to mention the will, I guess.’
‘Do you think there’s some kind of foul play then?’ Jilly asked matter-of-factly.
‘I don’t know but it does seem a bit dodgy, don’t you think?’ Rita’s brow furrowed.
‘Tell me more about Archie. What happened that night? If you don’t mind, babe.’
Rita’s knees wobbled, and not just from the workout. ‘It wasn’t the cliff’ – Rita took a noisy breath – ‘or the car – that’s what everyone says to make it sound dramatic. Grace Kelly romantic almost. But it wasn’t. Not really.’
Jilly elegantly crossed her legs. ‘Go on.’
‘He had a blowout,’ Rita said quietly. ‘Lost control. The car went over. That’s what the coroner said. But everyone hears sports car, cliff and thinks he did a Thelma and Louise, like your husband. Sorry, sorry. That was insensitive of me.’
Jilly’s expression didn’t change, but her hand reached out, resting lightly on Rita’s leg. ‘People are twats.’
Rita gave a dry laugh. ‘It was a terrible day. We’d rowed about garlic bread earlier that evening.
Can you believe that? He wanted it with lasagne; I told him he would have go the big Tesco himself and get it as I couldn’t be bothered to make it.
I had a French stick. I should have made some myself. ’
‘Oh, Rita. That’s just life. We all argue.’
‘I know, I know, but we don’t all lose our husbands after a row, do we?
’ Rita felt her anxiety rising. ‘Anyway, after dinner he went out to check on the cows as usual and when he came back he was properly angry about something. He grabbed the keys to his new convertible. Said driving with the roof off along the cliff path would sort him out, clear his head.’ Rita made a funny little squeaking noise.
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Rita blurted, ‘His last words to me were, “Next time, I will take you.” In fact, as he was going out the door, he made a point of coming back and kissing my forehead and said it: “Next time, I will take you.”’
Jilly was welling up herself now. ‘Shit, that’s shit.’
‘It’s not shit, it’s beautiful.’ Rita suddenly stood up, clanking her mug on the reception desk as she did so.
‘I’ve only just remembered him saying and doing that.
He wasn’t angry at me, Jilly. He wasn’t angry at me at all.
Or he wouldn’t have said or done that, would he?
’ She slowed her voice right down. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I always thought it was maybe my fault, that I caused him to be in such a mood and…’
‘He had a blowout, Rita,’ Jilly said softly. ‘There was nothing you could have done. And sometimes, we only hear what we want to hear and remember what we want to remember. Our brains are clever things.’
Jilly stood up and grabbed a cloth to rub down the Reformer machine they had just been using.
‘You know what I miss the most?’ Rita mused. ‘The way he made his own tea. Clanking around, with his big hands, opening the tea caddy, smashing the kettle down. Two sugars, strong, then mine, squeezing out the bag with a weird kind of gentleness. Stirring it gently as if it really mattered.’
‘I get that. My Dave was a sod, but he could make a cracking brew. He may have had fingers in many bad pies, but he used to warm the mugs with hot water first, like he was prepping them for royalty.’
‘Yeah.’ Rita nodded, smiling through wet eyes. ‘It’s the little things, isn’t it?’
‘It’s always the little things.’ Jilly noticed one of the women booked onto her next class walking up the hill. ‘Right. That’s enough trauma for one day. You did well, girl. On all counts.’
Rita grabbed her bag. ‘Do I owe you anything?’
‘Widows’ rate.’ Jilly winked. ‘Which is the same as mates’ rates, i.e. friendship costs nothing and you only wiggled around for a few minutes!’
‘Aw. Thank you again. For everything.’
‘Ah, you’re all right, girl.’
Rita turned around when she got to the door. ‘So, are you OK to create some discount leaflets, then?’
‘Sure, I’ll mail them to you. And Rita, have a think about it. Enemies, lovers, long-lost family… wills have a knack for stirring up a right old hornets’ nest and bringing the worms crawling right out of the woodwork.’