Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
The next day, Rita heard the farmhouse door open and close, the familiar scuff of boots on stone. She stepped through from the hall, and a proper, full-hearted smile lifted her whole face.
‘Thom darling, I’m having a fever dream, surely.
I don’t see you for an age, then here you are, again!
’ She checked that her slightly rounding belly was covered by her baggy shirt.
Thankfully, she’d had no real pregnancy woes, more the hospital that put the fear in her than anything else.
Twins were harder to carry at any age, she knew that, but she was managing.
She still got up early to feed the chickens and goats, though by nine p.m. most nights she was tucked in bed, TV on for a ten p.m. lights out.
‘Cheeky. I had an appointment down this way so thought why not come today. You look tired. Is there anything I can do?’
‘Umm… just you being here is a tonic. But actually, maybe Stan could do with your help. He’s putting up extra security around the place this afternoon.’
‘Oh, why’s that?’ Thom perched on the edge of a chair, leaning forward slightly, eyes attentive. ‘I’ll have a tea if it’s on offer. And is that cake I can smell?’
‘Here.’ She pushed the old familiar cake tin with faded ducks on it towards her son. ‘Ginger biscuits.’
Rita moved to put the kettle on. ‘And nothing for you to worry about re security stuff. Hilda noticed her sensor light had been moved and someone she didn’t recognise was on the doorbell.’
‘She’d probably been on the gin.’ He grinned.
Rita poured the hot water over the tea bag, letting it steep. ‘Well, there is that. But she was actually away, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. It would be a pain to have to restock if stuff got nicked, and if anything happened to the animals, I’d never forgive myself.’
Thom took the mug she handed him, wrapping his hands around it, the warmth seeping into his palms. ‘How are you feeling about Henry?’
‘Still a bit raw,’ she admitted softly, shifting in her chair to ease her back.
‘Yes, he was a good old dog. We need to get you some company.’
Rita shook her head, ‘Don’t you be doing what your father did to me. I’m quite happy as I am, for now.’ Without pets, anyway, she thought.
Thom took a sip of his tea, the steam curling around his face.
‘I’m actually going out later…’
‘Ah, OK, what are you up to?’
‘Err… meeting Dan, you know, Dan Bligh from college? He’s moved into a new flat and we’re having a few beers, so I expect I’ll stay at his.’
‘Aw, that’s lovely, Thom. I didn’t even realise you were in touch, thought he’d never leave his parents, that one. Where’s he moved to?’
‘Err… Polheron.’
‘Very nice.’ Rita saw a text come into her phone and turned the handset over.
‘Mum…?’ Thom dragged the syllables out. ‘I just wanted to check that you’re OK… I mean, about Jago. I fathomed it wasn’t all sunshine and roses last time I was here.’
Rita sat back at the table, sighing, feeling the soft warmth of the morning sun on her arms. ‘I really didn’t want you and Sen involved.
But he’s just found out that he has a child with Elodie, and he’s taking some time away from me to work out what that means for him.
I just hope it doesn’t mean that Elodie will be on the scene too much.
She’s staying with her dad at the moment. ’
‘Oh wow. OK. Er… That’s big.’ Thom shifted in his seat. ‘I can’t imagine for one moment that Jago would want to be with her. Do you really think he would?’
‘What – a beautiful, younger Frenchwoman with no grey hairs and legs up to her armpits?’ Rita laughed, the sound carrying lightly around the sunlit kitchen. ‘I mean, according to Betty, she nearly got you to fall under her spell, too.’
‘I wish I hadn’t mentioned it now!’ Thom shifted in his chair again. Rita rubbed her stomach again absentmindedly, a gentle reminder of her own resilience. It seemed madness that this tank of a man in front of her had been nestling in the very same place twenty-four years ago, impossible almost.
Thom cleared his throat. ‘I mean you, Mum. You’re beautiful, of course, but it’s not just how you look.
It’s everything else, the way you’ve been through so much and never let it break you, the way you care for people without fuss, your humour that sneaks in when no one expects it…
that strength, that spark, that’s what makes you… you.’
Rita raised an eyebrow at this unexpected outpouring. ‘Thom, are you all right?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘And how’s Poppy?’ Rita kept her voice light.
‘She’s OK.’ Thom sounded dismissive.
‘Thomas Jory?’ Rita quizzed.
‘She’s fine, like I say. She’s fit, she’s quite funny. Maybe a little too serious.’
‘A lot too serious, I say,’ Rita added, without thought.
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ Thom sighed. ‘She’s definitely not the future Mrs Jory, but she’s perfect for being Miss Right Now.’
Rita shook her head and, with an inward smile, flicked the kettle back on for herself. Her son waxing lyrical about her soul while simultaneously being completely obsessed with skin-deep beauty elsewhere made her laugh despite herself.
‘Try not to hurt her, Thom.’
‘I kind of didn’t think she was your cup of tea.’
‘She’s not, but she’s a human being, and now I know you’re not marrying her, I can say that,’ Rita said with a smirk.
Thom smiled that easy, slightly crooked smile that always reminded her of Archie, and for a fleeting moment she wished he were here, wished for the steady comfort he had always given, the sense of security she now missed, before the pregnancy, before all the uncertainty of Jago and everything else.
A pang of longing and the nudge of grief twisting through her chest was interrupted by a knock on the door.
It was Stan. ‘Time to keep us all safe and sound, Mrs Jory. Oh, and Jago said can you please check your messages.’
With Thom and Stan outside, Rita turned over her handset and read the message that was sitting there.
I miss you and I really hope you will see me later. J x
A kiss, warmth, and a smiley emoji. Hurrah!
Suddenly feeling a little safer and sounder all round, Rita let out a sigh of relief.