Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
The day before the wedding dawned glorious and summery. With her ankle fully back to normal, Rita made her way across to the annexe, feeling much more settled now that Hilda was back in situ.
She had told Teo that she was back up to animal-feeding duties and had relished getting up bright and early to feed the goats and chickens herself.
The routine settled her even further. The realisation that without your health and strength, life was most certainly difficult, hit her hard.
She vowed to make the most of every single second of every single day, grateful for being healthy and for the joy of carrying two new lives inside her.
Being at peace with Jago had equally allowed her to breathe a little deeper.
She could and would have brought up these two babies herself, but as she had said to Zenya, theoretically, everything was easier with another hand to hold in the dark.
She was excited for Sennen that the wedding was on her premises, but she would also be extremely glad when it was over.
Oops. What had she just been thinking? Enjoy every single minute of every day.
She must embrace it. But the thought of the peace of just being alone on the farm again, able to relax and make love with Jago for a bit, filled her with happiness.
The yurt hire was even blocked out for ten days after the wedding, giving her the chance to take time out to do just that.
Teo and Zenya had also been instructed to take ten days’ paid leave.
For despite the pair knowing that they could take time out whenever they wished during quiet periods, neither had had a proper break since she had first opened the doors to the Seahaven Bay Retreat.
That was how dedicated they were to her and the business.
The Sun-Kissed Serenity Retreat wasn’t until July, so the timing was perfect.
The only thing really bothering her was the lingering uncertainty over the fire; someone clearly wanted to destroy the livelihood she had painstakingly built since the death of her beloved Archie.
Letting herself into the familiar hallway and noticing Hilda’s chair was empty, Rita crept into her mother-in-law’s bedroom.
Throwing open the curtains, sunlight streamed through the window, and the room felt calm.
Too calm. Chills crept up Rita’s spine. She didn’t even want to look across to the bed.
Hilda was in her later years, and yes, Rita realised the old girl would not live forever, but just as with Queen Elizabeth the Second, she had somehow expected and hoped she would always be there.
Rita took a deep breath and flicked her eyes to the bed. Hilda was… still. Too still.
‘Hilda?’ Rita stepped closer, tears beginning to brim. Hilda was facing towards the wall, a lone sheet draped over her. Rita’s voice wobbled with fear. ‘Hilda, come on, time to get up.’ She tentatively reached over to touch her shoulder.
All of a sudden, Hilda jumped up with a start, causing Rita to scream at the top of her lungs.
‘Oh my God! I thought…’
‘You thought I was dead?’ Hilda chuckled, a cough rattling her chest mid-laugh. ‘Oh no, darling, I’m not going anywhere just yet. I was in the middle of the most marvellous dream, doing rather unmentionable things to one of those Strictly Come Dancing dancers. Ali Ash, I think his name is.’
Grinning at Hilda’s literal translation of Alja?’s name and with complete relief, Rita put her hand to her chest. ‘Thank God.’
‘Those babies of yours need to know what a proper granny is, don’t they? Who else could impart such wisdom and mischief to the younger generation?’ Hilda sniffed. ‘Not like that wizened old bitch up at the old people’s home. Neither use nor ornament, that one.’
Rita suddenly realised Hilda was talking about Jago’s mum, who had had an affair with Hilda’s beloved husband, Ralphy.
They would all have to cross that seismic bridge of whether the woman should meet her grandchildren or not when it came to it.
Although, with no love lost between him and his mother, Jago had said he didn’t even want Rita to meet her.
Rita picked up a glass from Hilda’s bedside table. ‘Now do you want to get up or stay in here for a bit and I’ll bring you a cup of tea?’
‘I’m perfectly capable of dragging myself up without your ministrations, thank you. Now make me that cuppa, will you, and let me get dressed in peace.’
Whilst Hilda sat in her chair perusing the local papers for funeral notices and obituaries with her usual meticulousness, Rita did a quick tidy-up.
She was just stacking the various papers and books on the pine kitchen table when she spotted Hilda’s will, the very will that she had helped her sort after Archie’s death.
Hilda had wanted it neatly divided into percentages. It felt fairer that way, with an equal share to Rita and her grandchildren. She had kept her husband’s gold watch to give to Thom; while Rita was to have her wedding band, they had both agreed Sennen should have her engagement ring.
Rita frowned. ‘Why is your will out, Hilda? You are worrying me now.’
‘It’s fine. I guess this accident has made me face my own mortality, and I am nearing the end of my life.
Not this minute, I’m not but it’s just called being sensible.
And, well, with your babies on the way, and also Teo being Archie’s son, I want to change it, so everyone I love can have a piece of the pie. ’
‘Aw, Hilda, you are so lovely.’
‘Don’t you dare be telling everyone that.’ Hilda laughed, then started coughing again. ‘I still haven’t had a cigarette, you know, since the fire.’
‘Well, try and keep it up.’
‘My lungs are held together with hope and nicotine. Saying that, I can barely breathe as it is, so it is a fair point. Anyway, no fuss, please, but I’ve written on the back my new wishes. Could you sort it for me with the solicitor and just tell me where to sign?’
‘We should maybe wait for the babies to come,’ Rita replied sensibly. ‘We can add names then.’
Hilda looked under her glasses at her. ‘They will be coming but yes, OK, smartypants.’
Rita put it back in the envelope next to it. ‘I’ll take it with me now and we can get it sorted when the time is right.’ Rita paused for a second. ‘How’s Eric?’
Hilda raised her eyebrows. ‘Eric who?’
Rita’s lips twitched. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘No, you’re not,’ Hilda sighed. ‘And I’m nobody’s fool. I wanted the younger company. It’s not as easy when you get to my age to find a companion who wants to be so spontaneous.’
‘Do you think he’s used you?’ Rita asked softly, a hint of worry in her voice.
‘It’s been a joint effort.’ Hilda gave a small shrug, turning back to her papers. ‘Anyway, that’s enough airtime for bollocking Eric Poxley; you’ve got a wedding to run and burnt hand or not I have to choose which one of these funerals will have the best buffet.’
Rita smiled. ‘And I will happily give you a lift to any you need to go to. We don’t need pesky men to make us happy, Hilda.’
‘Says the woman who I’m guessing is fully back ensconced with a Jenken.’
Rita didn’t make a squeak. Hilda cleared her throat and with all sincerity announced, ‘I love you, Rita Jory, always have, always will.’
A bubble of emotion rose in her chest, and Rita wasn’t sure whether she was going to laugh or cry. Finally, she let out a shaky chuckle. ‘Now I really do think you are going to croak!’