Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
With Carmen on her way back to Seville, Rita felt she could relax again.
It had been lovely to see how Teo interacted with his mother; they clearly had a strong bond.
And despite the fact Archie had kept such a humongous secret from her, she felt so sad for him that he had not been able to meet the wonderful child they had created.
But it had been Carmen’s decision to keep her boy a secret and she had to respect the woman’s reasons for that too.
And if tragedy hadn’t struck, the meeting would have taken place.
And who knows, they could all have been one big happy blended family.
But the big black cloud of having to talk to Jago still hung over her.
Part of her didn’t want to face anything.
Let the will hang in the ether. If Archie was leaving money to Teo then OK, she got it.
She could see why Thom would be angry about this; but how would he have known in the first place?
And did he know about the mystery brother, too?
There were so many unanswered questions, and she felt that only one man knew all the answers.
Feeling like a healthy breakfast was required, she made her way to the vegetable garden in search of any remaining strawberries. Creeping past Zenya’s tent, her footsteps muffled by dew-kissed grass, the air hummed with half-asleep bees and the scent of warm apples.
Zenya, who could hear a worm turn in the soil, responded instantly to the faint crunch of Rita’s footstep; her tent zip whipped down and her head emerged, a long braid over one shoulder, yawning wildly.
‘Oh. Hi, Rita.’
‘Sorry, so sorry to disturb you. I just wondered if there were any strawberries left.’
‘I can do better than that.’ The pretty hippy whipped back inside her tent, then appeared holding a basket covered with a tea cloth.
‘I come bearing carbs.’ She lifted the cloth as if it were a metal cloche. ‘Spelt and caraway. Good for your stomach. A Betty’s Tearoom special.’
Rita beamed. ‘Oh, sod being healthy, you’re a saint. Do you have any butter?’
‘No, but the Snack Shack fridge does.’
With the goats and chickens fed and Henry sniffing around nearby, the pair sat on fold-up chairs at the end of the orchard, taking in the view and munching on the rolls, butter and
homemade raspberry jam, a fresh flask of coffee at their side.
‘It really is just so idyllic here,’ Zenya crooned. ‘I pinch myself every day. Thank you so much for believing in me.’
Rita smiled. ‘I never had a doubt.’
‘Even when I crawled out looking like some kind of neolithic woman making my nettle tea the day you met me.’
‘That made you even more employable.’
They both laughed.
‘I can’t believe I missed the goats being born, oh my God they are so sweet… and I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.’
‘Don’t be silly, I’m glad you have a life outside of here. We really must christen them.’
‘Ha, yes.’ Zenya smirked. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. Something suitably nonsensical, like Billy Idol or Vincent van Goat.’
Rita shrieked. ‘Oh my God. Genius! Billy and Vince for short, that’s it… well done.’
Zenya eyed Rita for a moment, then poured them both a top-up from the flask. ‘So, how are you feeling about the retreat? Now everyone’s gone, I mean.’
Rita hesitated. ‘Honestly? A bit… wrung-out.’
Zenya nodded. ‘I can only think of it like after a music festival. The noise stops and suddenly your own thoughts get loud. I hear you.’
Rita exhaled, tearing a roll in half. ‘It went well, though, didn’t it? A proper mixed bunch but no one left early, and a couple hinted they may return.’
‘You should be really proud.’ Zenya nodded.
‘I am. Proud of how far we’ve come already. But I keep thinking about what’s next. How can we make it better? Is enough money coming in? All the worries of a new business. And I’d better shake myself as new guests are arriving in under three weeks.’
Zenya smiled. ‘Don’t fret. We are a team and we’ve got this.’ She became animated. ‘I checked the review page last night. Every single one of the last lot have left a glowing report.’
‘Oh wow. I didn’t even think to look; that’s amazing. Um… what did Paul say?’
‘I’ll go and grab my phone – and something else I want to show you, hang on.
’ Zenya darted to her tent then ran back and scrolled to the retreat Facebook page.
‘He gave five stars obviously and oh yes, here we go. A truly unforgettable stay. The yurt was surprisingly comfortable, the host incredibly attentive, and I left feeling… well, deeply satisfied on every level. Would absolutely come again. And again.’
Rita reddened; Zenya smirked. ‘I told you that you were the hostess with the mostest.’
‘I’m saying nothing.’ Rita sighed.
‘You don’t need to… and Madam Satisfaction.
’ Zenya reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded paper, a sketched floor plan.
‘You remember your idea of converting the outhouse into a fancier toilet and shower area? Well, we can do this quite easily. Keep the outside rustic; there is basic plumbing in there with the old utilities. And to keep in line with your sustainability thoughts, we can swap to a solar-powered water heater on the roof.’
Rita opened the paper, eyes scanning the notes, the little drawings. ‘I love it,’ she said quietly. ‘Really love it.’
Zenya tried to hide her delight. ‘Good. So I suggest we get this next shorter retreat out of the way, then we can start implementing changes for the next one. Jude’s friend from an eco-build co-op said he could take a quick look for free.
It may be worth him looking at solar for the farmhouse too.
I am pretty handy, and I know that Teo would get stuck in too.
’ Zenya paused. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m interfering. ’
‘I love your enthusiasm when mine is waning slightly.’ Rita smiled. ‘This place really is becoming something, isn’t it?’
‘It’s already something,’ Zenya said gently. ‘You made it that way.’
Rita took a sip of coffee. ‘I just wanted to create a space where people could relax and exhale.’
Zenya spontaneously kissed Rita’s cheek, then, shocked by her own reaction, pulled away embarrassed. ‘You did. And you will, yourself, be able to do both again. I know it.’
There was a brief silence and then Zenya ventured, ‘I saw Jago kiss you.’
Rita plucked at a loose thread on her shorts, heart thudding.
Zenya held up a finger. ‘Hang on one sec.’
She vanished back to her tent again and returned moments later clutching a small silver tin, chipped and scuffed.
‘I’m not taking any kind of love potion.’ Rita raised a brow.
Zenya opened it to pull out a deck of cards and a little booklet.
‘Better.’ Zenya grinned. ‘Guardian angels. Just pick one. Don’t think. Put your hand in and the right one will find you.’
Rita rolled her eyes but reached in. Her fingers brushed past a few smooth cards before settling on one. She pulled it free. Clarity.
She stared at the word. The letters were embossed in gold, surrounded by clouds and light beams. Zenya took it from her gently and reached for her accompanying guide. Reading aloud, her voice lilted with delight.
‘You are being shown the truth of a situation. Trust that the fog is lifting. What was hidden is now revealed. Clarity will bring peace, not chaos. You already know what to do.’
‘That’s a bit on the nose,’ Rita said eventually.
‘Truth always is,’ Zenya replied softly. ‘But this card… clarity… isn’t about fixing everything. It’s about seeing things as they really are… and deciding if you want to go with them anyway.’
Rita’s throat tightened. ‘I don’t know if I’m brave enough for that.’
Zenya smiled and tucked the tin back under her arm. ‘You don’t have to be brave all at once. Just honest. With yourself, first.’
With a lighter heart, Rita walked slowly back to the farmhouse. She so appreciated Zenya and what they had, a blossoming true friendship built on trust, support, and the quiet knowing that love, in its purest form, can take many shapes.