Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Lola knocked gently, then wandered into the farmhouse kitchen, her purple hair scraped into a messy bun, an oversized charity-shop T-shirt hanging loosely over yoga shorts.
Her face was light pink from being in the outdoors for so long.
She paused in the doorway, nose twitching as she caught the scent of something unfamiliar, her colourful water bottle clutched in one hand.
‘Is that actual coffee I smell?’ she asked, mock horror on her face.
‘As in, non-fair-trade, non-locally sourced, possibly rainforest-murdering coffee?’ She laughed.
Zenya, busy making some raspberry jam from the fruit-laden plants in the vegetable patch, raised an eyebrow. Rita, who was checking supplies in the fridge, grinned. ‘You know it’s organic and shade-grown, thank you very much. I don’t even have to recycle the guilt anymore, thanks to you.’
Lola let out a faux dramatic sigh of relief and crossed to one of the bench seats in the marquee. ‘I was after some water, actually. I ran out from my breakfast pack.’
Rita went to hand her a plastic bottle out of the fridge and then quickly retracted it. ‘Oops. I am getting better, Lola, thanks to you. I kind of wish there were more adverts telling us what we shouldn’t be buying packaging wise and how exactly to recycle everything.’
‘It’s not bloody brain surgery,’ the young woman replied flippantly.
‘I know, I know but we get set in our recycling ways, don’t we?
’ Rita took Lola’s bottle. ‘I’m more than happy to fill it but just so you know the outhouse sink is mains and drinkable.
Next time you come, if you want to, that is, there will be more facilities out there for you. Better showers et cetera, too.’
Lola sighed, shoulders dropping. ‘I must sound like cracked record, but I’ve been reading a lot lately.
And watching, like, really watching, the nature documentaries, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
I know people get mad at the climate protestors, but like, what if we’ve already screwed it all up?
What if it’s too late? Rising temperatures, mass extinctions, rainforests destroyed, plastic in the reefs, the Arctic ice melting. It’s all happening so fast.’
Rita softened. ‘I know. It’s overwhelming when you do pay attention.’
‘David Attenborough is in his nineties and still fighting.’ Lola’s voice was now thick with emotion. ‘He should be swinging in a hammock, relaxing in the sunshine, not begging us to stop destroying our planet.’
‘I have a weird crush on him,’ Zenya piped up, pushing a teaspoon of jam across a saucer to check it had set. ‘He’s amazing. A beautiful, brilliant force helping us to listen and understand. And sadly, most people are too busy or ignorant to care.’
Rita looked to Lola. ‘But you care. You’re influencing people in real ways, not just some face forcing us to buy the next best wrinkle cream or to take some expensive collagen shots that the promoters would probably never even consider touching their own lips.’
‘Maybe I need to rethink. Maybe it’s not about having thousands of followers.
’ Lola took another drink. ‘Perhaps I/we should be convincing one person at a time to bring their own coffee cup or switch to shampoo bars and asking them to pass it on. We don’t have time to get this wrong, Rita.
And sometimes it feels like everyone’s still asleep. ’
Rita nodded slowly. ‘Well, I shall do my bit to make this place as sustainable as possible.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Zenya added, putting jars in the Aga to sterilise.
With Zenya now busy in the Snack Shack and Lola away to the bus stop for a trip down to the harbour, Rita had just sat down to enjoy her second cup of coffee at the kitchen table, when the back door creaked open and Jude poked his head round.
‘Morning.’ The bookseller sounded tentative. ‘Sorry to barge in, Rita, but do you know where Teo is? We’ve arranged to lunch in the orchard.’
‘Have you now.’ Rita smirked. ‘Did you try the annexe? I saw him come back from a run earlier; maybe he’s showering.’
‘Ah, I didn’t think.’
‘So, if it’s not too nosy, how’s it going?’ Rita took a sip of coffee.
Jude gave her a look. ‘Well, we are still at the talking-into-the-early-hours-of-the-morning stage. I’ve been walking around like the happiest of zombies all week.’
‘Aw, I love this for you both…’ She stuck out her bottom lip. ‘And I’d forgotten how amazing new love is.’
‘Well, I’m not sure if it’s love yet.’ Jude winked. ‘But there’s a healthy dose of lust going on.’
Rita felt sad for a moment, and Jude clocked the change in her expression. ‘You’ll find it again, Rita. You’re far too beautiful for someone not to fall for you… someone who won’t be able to bear being anywhere but by your side.’
‘You should write a book.’ Rita laughed.
‘Or next best thing, become a bookseller, eh?’ Jude pushed his glasses back up his nose and grinned. They both noticed Teo walking across the courtyard.
‘Go to your boy.’ Rita smiled.
‘To love again, I felt my heart consenting.’ Jude declared dramatically.
‘Who wrote that?’
‘I just made it up.’ Jude grinned, blowing her a theatrical kiss. As he headed for the front door, he was completely unaware of how deeply that quote had struck a chord with her, too.