Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Beneath the dappled shade of the orchard trees, Rita and Thom sat down opposite each other on the picnic bench, tucking into the crusty sourdough rolls filled with grilled Mediterranean vegetables and mozzarella that Zenya had left in the fridge, neatly wrapped in cling film and marked with an ‘R’ – a small gesture that never failed to make Rita smile.
It had been a long time since she had felt truly looked after by anyone.
Dessert was a bowl of fresh strawberries from the retreat garden, topped with a generous dollop of clotted cream. Rita had opened a bottle of fizzy water and Thomas had nicked one of Teo’s zero-alcohol Estrella Galicia beers from the fridge, which Rita made a mental note to replace.
As they ate, Thom’s gaze flicked down and he noticed something odd. ‘Mum… your necklace. The one Dad gave you?’
‘I looked for it.’ She faltered. ‘But… nothing. It’s gone.’
Thom frowned. ‘I thought for a moment you’d decided to stop wearing it.’
‘No, darling.’ Rita put her hand on his.
‘I lost it in the goat pen in the spring. My only thought’ – a rueful smile tugged at Rita’s lips despite the frustration – ‘is that one of the goats got hold of it. And if that’s the case, there’s no way I’m looking for it now.
’ Rita poured herself a glass of water. ‘So, it’s been months since you’ve rung, or even replied to a message.
You’re good? Work all right? Any new girlfriends to mention? ’
‘I’m fine, Mum, thank you. I’m flying at work, hence the new car, and as for girlfriends, that’s too big a topic over a short lunch. Let’s just say I haven’t found the one yet, but I’m having a lot of fun looking.’ He grinned the same lopsided grin as his father.
‘Sennen said she spoke to you the other day?’
‘Yes. Not really a newsflash, though, that is, is it? She is my twin sister after all. Shame about her and Alex; he was a good bloke, and you know how needy Sennen can be.’
Rita shook her head. ‘Shouldn’t you be on her side?’
Thom reverted to the bolshy teenager she had both loved and struggled with in equal measure. ‘All’s fair in love and war and all that, and I’m just being honest.’
‘So, what have you been up to this morning, then?’ Rita pressed.
‘Driving here.’ Thom took a drink straight from his beer bottle.
Rita felt an urge of something she wasn’t quite sure of rising within her. And then it was out. ‘I madly thought I saw you a few hours ago… at Hawthorn Acre… talking to Jago.’
Thom paused, took another sip of beer, and remained silent.
‘Did I?’ Rita reiterated, almost frightened of what she might hear.
‘Yes.’ Thom was abrupt. ‘Sorry, yes, Mum. He was herding his sheep up the road; a couple broke free. I had to stop. We had a very brief chat, then I went down to the surf beach, had a swim, got an ice cream from the kiosk, just like I used to.’ He screwed his face up at her.
‘What is this anyway, the Spanish Inquisition?’ Thom laughed, but it was clear that he was not feeling it inside.
‘We just had a brief chat, me and Jago, that’s all.
He’s not exactly a friend, is he? I mean, I’m still seething you sold Dad’s cows and tractor to him. ’
‘Our cows, Thom. And you know I had to.’
‘I still can’t believe that Dad left you in debt, Mum. That wasn’t his style.’
‘I know it wasn’t, darling.’ Rita sighed deeply. ‘There’s something else I need to ask you.’
Thom replied before she could finish her sentence. ‘About the will, you mean?’
Rita was open-mouthed. Thom made a groaning noise. ‘Oops. Don’t say anything to her, please, but Granny Jory told me… well, she asked if I knew anything about it.’
‘And do you?’ Rita did her best to keep her voice level.
‘No, I don’t. I find it hard to believe that Dad didn’t tell you if there was one. Maybe Granny Jory has just got confused. You know what she’s like.’
Sharp as a tack was what Granny Jory was like, Rita thought, feeling angry that she had got her son involved. In a back-handed positive way, at least it proved that Hilda didn’t know where the will was either.
‘I think you should just forget about it, Mum, and also stop playing at this retreat lark. I mean, you’ve got no experience of running a business, let alone a wellness retreat.’
Rita felt tears spring to her eyes. ‘I ran this farm like clockwork for years, as well as bringing up you kids, so how dare you say that. And what else am I supposed to do, tell me that, Thomas.’
‘It’s not a farm now anymore, is it, really.
You’ve got a few old goats and chickens; the crops are long gone.
The land is wasted. I think you should sell up.
Stop all this nonsense. And as we are being so…
’ Thom made inverted commas in the sky, ‘“honest” with each other, that is exactly what I told Sennen I thought you should do the other night on the phone.’
‘No, no way. The farm is my home. Our home.’
‘It’s huge, Mum; you’re rattling around in it all on your own. It’s ridiculous.’
‘I’m not now. Teo has moved into the annexe and Zenya is a true confidante.’
‘What, that homeless hippy in the field Sennen told me about.’
‘Thomas!’ Rita shouted so loudly, her son actually stopped in his tracks with a look of shock. She clenched her jaw, trying to hold it together. ‘What is this really all about?’
‘Jago Jenken would buy it, I know he would. You told me he paid over the odds for the other stuff, so why not the farm? You could still stay in Seahaven Bay and get yourself a little cottage and probably wouldn’t need to ever work again. Do nothing. You know it makes sense.’
Rita blew out a huge breath and looked to the sky to stop her tears from falling.
‘I don’t like to see you upset. Come here.’ Thom went to hug his mother, who instinctively pushed him away.
‘I know your game, Thomas Jory.’ Rita’s voice was cracking.
‘I’m forty-five, with hopefully a long life ahead of me and I don’t just want to do nothing.
For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling some kind of happiness, some sense of achievement.
So, don’t you dare come at me saying what you think is right, because to be honest, I’m not listening anymore.
’ Anger was now doing the talking and wouldn’t shut up.
‘You swan in here, after only seeing you three times since your father passed, and start throwing this around. Maybe you should’ve spent more time thinking about how I’ve been feeling and getting through that instead.
’ Rita threw out her arm and pointed towards his car.
‘Get to St Austell, Thomas. Enjoy your work jolly.’ Unable to hold it together any longer, tears burst from Rita – tears of anger, grief, confusion all tangled together.
She clumsily got out from the picnic bench and ran at full pelt towards the farmhouse.
Thom casually walked behind her, got in his car, and sped off the drive, causing gravel to fly up and leave a cloud of dust in his wake, and covering Teo, who was just walking towards the barn to prepare it for his sunset yoga class later.
On seeing Rita opening the front door in a state of snot and sobbing, he rushed to follow her in, coughing and brushing down his peeling NAMASTE T-shirt as he went. Henry, sleeping in his bed by the Aga, opened one eye and shut it again.
‘Oh, my beautiful Rita, not again.’ Taking her in his arms, he hugged her tightly, her head resting against his firm chest, speaking in Spanish in a soothing voice until her tears had subsided and her breath was at a normal pitch.
She pulled away, leaving remnants of eyeliner and mascara on his top.
Her face was contorted in anguish. She let out a huge hitch of breath.
Teo pulled her towards him again and almost comically gripped her to his chest. ‘Who is this terrible person, who has hurt you so badly? Tell me.’
For fear of suffocation by tanned and firm pectorals (but what a way to go!), Rita pulled herself away again and moved across to the sink.
She shook her head slowly, a strange mix of shame and sorrow tangled in her chest, making her hesitate to respond.
It was as if admitting that it had been her own son who had hurt her so badly was a failure on her part, a crack in the foundation she’d tried so hard to keep intact with and without Archie.
Like it might be a betrayal, not just of him but of herself.
‘My son, Thomas,’ she blubbed. ‘He wants me to sell up.’
‘Oh. OK.’ Teo’s voice wobbled slightly. He then took a breath, held the tops of both of her shoulders and looked right at her with his soft, molten brown eyes.
‘Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Death and money does strange things to people.
You’re not on your own, OK?’ He nodded. Keeping close eye contact, he repeated, ‘OK?’
He continued to nod until Rita eventually whispered a watery, ‘OK.’