Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Two weeks later, the yurts were up, the compost loos ready for bottoms, and the outbuildings and barn scrubbed and fit for purpose. The promotional leaflets had been passed around locally, and the Seahaven Bay Retreat was already getting attention online.
Before Archie had passed away, Rita had never been an avid user of social media, but with more time on her hands, she had become what Sennen called a ‘reluctant scroller’.
She’d had to get extremely au fait with Facebook and Instagram as marketing tools, and although she wasn’t quite brave enough to post a live Reel, Rita had to admit the retreat’s Instagram page scrubbed up nicely, thanks mostly to Zenya’s filter-fancy thumbs and Teo’s insistence on ‘luz natural only’.
Rita figured no one need know there were just five places in total and if the miraculous happened this month and they were oversubscribed, they could offer those interested parties other dates.
Now, it was just a waiting game.
The yurts looked like something out of a bohemian fairy tale.
Each one was kitted out with thick, patterned rugs and gloriously squashy mattresses – Rita’s decision, which she stood firmly by, even if it meant blowing half the budget on memory foam.
She’d reasoned that if people were going to be predominantly using a compost toilet and having to share a shower, they at least deserved a good night’s kip.
She’d originally planned to use real candles, but after reading about the fire risk in a yurt, she wisely switched to some surprisingly effective fake ones.
And no one need know the rugs were half from the charity shop; the other half she’d found rolled up in the hayloft.
Figuring hungry guests wouldn’t be happy guests, she didn’t want to starve anyone either.
It wasn’t a fitness or weight loss retreat after all, more of a massage for the mind.
Betty had agreed to supply daily breakfast hampers, Betty’s Tearoom style!
They were to consist of Seahaven Bay Retreat branded cool bags, filled with two flasks, one with coffee and one with hot water, English breakfast tea bags, plus a selection of herbal ones, plus a mini milk bottle.
A cinnamon bun and a scone with jam and cream provided the tasty treat.
Just in case guests moaned at the thought of putting white flour and sugar down their crops, there would be a large bottle of mineral water.
Plus Rita had done a deal with Hawthorn Farm down the road to include fresh strawberries from their ‘pick your own’ field – a fruit which would take them up until August at least and then she could revert to apples and pears from the orchard as the healthy option.
To finish off the feast, a natural yoghurt.
She had put a couple of picnic tables outside the yurts so if guests wanted to eat together then they could or if they wanted solitude, their sea-facing yurts had a chair and small table outside also.
To benefit another local business, she had also thought that leaving a book in every yurt would be a nice touch and an added takeaway. Jude had obviously been delighted, and Rita had entrusted him with choosing exactly the right words required to fit the setting.
To keep costs down, and perhaps to avoid any unexpected barbecue disasters in the High Meadow, Rita had opted to go fully vegetarian.
Zenya had agreed to be resident chef and would offer salads and rolls for lunch and a freshly cooked evening meal.
This would be prepared in the farm kitchen.
They had yet to decide where to serve it.
And if anyone couldn’t go without meat, fish, or alcohol then Rita figured they could get the bus down to the harbour and the Winking Pilchard, for which Pete the landlord had gladly given her a load of ‘buy one meal get a drink free’ vouchers.
She really must get around to seeing Jilly again to see if she may do some sort of discount on the Pilates sessions too.
As it was Sunday and her semi day of rest, with chickens and goats fed, social media duties signed off and a cup of tea drunk, Rita wanted to enjoy the balmy June weather. Pulling on a summer dress and trainers, she headed towards the High Meadow with Henry the labrador at her heels.
She was surprised to see Teo busy draping fairy lights from one yurt to another with the precision of a Formula One driver taking a bend.
Zenya, in a haze of lavender oil and eucalyptus, was arranging jars of dried wildflowers and placing little handwritten notes onto pillowcases that read, brEATHE IN. BEGIN AGAIN.
Stan had crafted two rustic wooden signs, one that he’d fixed to the main gate and another that was now stuck in the ground in front of Yurt Avenue, Rita’s new name for the row of fancy tents, which, thanks to Hilda’s input, read, SEAHAVEN BAY RETREAT – WHERE THE SEA MEETS YOUR SOUL.
Zenya and Teo stopped what they were doing and joined Rita on Archie’s bench.
The breeze had picked up, carrying the scent of salt and lavender.
Henry sat at their feet and gave a sleepy sigh.
The cliffs rolled away in rugged folds, sun-bleached and dappled with golden gorse.
Tiny white sails bobbed in the bay, and gulls wheeled lazily overhead.
It was one of those quiet, golden June afternoons when time seemed to pause, just long enough to remind you how beautiful the world could be.
Rita could even smell that summer was well and truly here.
She broke their unified silence. ‘I don’t expect you to work on a Sunday when a retreat is not on, you know.’
Zenya replied first. ‘I want to. You have given me peace and security, Rita. Something I have been searching for, for a long time.’
Teo smiled. ‘And me, well, you have opened me up to a new life in a different country. I love this. And I love this place.’
‘You might not be saying that when the guests start arriving. It could be interesting,’ Rita quipped.
‘I will soon woo-woo them back to ground level,’ Zenya replied, smiling.
Teo’s voice softened. ‘And you sure it still OK for me to stay in the upstairs annexe?’
‘Of course.’ Rita nodded. ‘I must get Stan to put a lock on the door for you.’
‘Sí, sí, as I am a little worried about Hilda getting risky with me.’
Zenya laughed aloud. ‘I think you mean frisky.’
Teo stood up and stretched his perfectly taut arms to the sky and with a noise of complete contentment, quoted, ‘La vida es más divertida si te arriesgas un poco.’
‘Life is more fun if you take a few risks,’ Zenya immediately translated. Teo and Rita’s mouths dropped open.
‘Or frisks,’ Teo stated, causing them all to crack up.