Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
Rita had always thought that the waves crashing onto the beach sounded different at night. Softer, somehow. As if the ocean was letting its shoulders drop after a long day, too.
A full moon hung above the dark ocean at Seahaven Bay’s surf beach.
Its silvery light spilled onto the sea, casting a shimmery path that stretched all the way to the shore, as if inviting you to step out and walk across the waves.
Stars were dotted above like tiny pinpricks in black velvet, each one flickering as if delivering a secret message from the cosmos.
The tide whispered close to the fire pit Zenya had dug earlier that evening, and the soft crunch of bare feet on sand signalled the arrival of her small moonlit crew wearing the head torches that Rita had asked Teo to put in each yurt that afternoon.
‘All right, soul seekers,’ Zenya said warmly, spreading out the last of the battered beach blankets and flicking her torch off. ‘Welcome to the first ever midnight moonlight mantras. No phones, no expectations. Just stars, snacks, a slurp of Sauvignon and possibly profound revelations.’
‘Just the one glass for me!’ Michael announced loudly. ‘I can’t be being a complete drunken tosser again and risk you all leaving me out here in the dark, now can I?’
‘Well done,’ Rita said encouragingly, having realised quite quickly that her no alcohol ruling had been shortsighted and might even put off some prospective guests. She wanted the retreat to be a place for freedom and choice, not one bound by rigid rules.
‘One bottle, he probably means,’ Lola said to the sky.
Rita and Teo sat on either side of their warrior queen, offering moral support. Truth be told, Rita needed some of that herself after her scrap with Jago. She still felt a bit sick from it all, a bit rattled, raw.
Realising none of them were wanting to abstain from alcohol for a whole month, the group had decided to bring wine. Even Emily had thrown up her hand when they’d taken a vote earlier that day. As Teo had driven them all down to the beach, Rita was also inclined to drown her sorrows.
Michael dropped his camping chair into the sand with a grunt, held up a packet of marshmallows like a peace offering. ‘Do these count as soul food?’
Emily giggled. ‘Only if your soul’s made of glucose and self-loathing.’
Michael snorted. ‘Darling girl, even Satan would move out of my head if he was living with my thoughts.’
Annie, already cocooned in a Rupert the Bear onesie and two blankets, peered up at the sky. ‘Is that the Bear? I’m sure I can see the Bear.’
Zenya looked hard at the sky. ‘Yes. Ursa Major – the Great Bear. Well done, that woman.’
‘She looks like a blessed great grizzly bear in what she’s wearing,’ Michael whispered to Paul, who couldn’t help but laugh.
‘What star sign are you?’ Emily asked Annie, squinting thoughtfully at the constellations.
‘Whichever one is shit at relationships, I guess. My birthday is March thirteenth.’
‘Pisces.’ Zenya nodded gently. ‘I’m one, too. Definitely got the creative side, still learning the romance bit.’
Annie grunted. ‘It’s fish, isn’t it? Probably why men keep slipping through my fingers.’ She took a huge slug of wine from her paper cup.
‘I thought there would be more stars on a clear night like this,’ Rita added, leaning back onto her blanket.
Paul, who had moved to be nearer the sea, flopped down beside her, cracking open a can of lager.
He laughed. ‘Maybe they are just a little shy with all these weirdos staring up at them.’ Rita felt his presence strangely comforting.
Zenya produced a Tupperware of something homemade and vegan. ‘Moonballs. Oats, dates, almonds, sprinkle of hope and a touch of luck. Help yourself.’
Michael leaned in. ‘I’m just saying, if anyone starts chanting or howling, you’ll find me lying in the dunes over there.
’ Then, on seeing somebody walking right towards them completely in the dark, he jumped.
Zenya lifted her torch to see who it was.
There was Jude, the quiet and unassuming bookseller, puffing on a vape.
‘Aw, you made it. I’m so pleased.’ Rita smiled warmly and threw him a spare blanket. ‘Get yourself warm and help yourself to a drink.’
Jude caught the blanket with a slow, confident smile, the firelight flickering in his glasses. ‘Thanks, I’ll gladly take you up on that.’
Rita noticed Teo’s gaze flicked to Jude, a slow, deliberate glance that lingered just a beat too long before he looked away.
The handsome Spaniard pretended to be focused on the fire, but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise.
She felt a naughty little thrill that the evening was already proving more interesting than she’d dared hope.
Zenya sat cross-legged on her blanket, a glow stick looped around her wrist.
‘OK, you lovely lot. Let’s do a check-in. Nothing heavy. Just say something silly or true or both. One small thing the moon should know about you tonight.’
She nodded at Michael first.
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Christ, really! OK…’ He laughed. ‘The moon should know I once cried during Paddington 2 and blamed it on hay fever. Will that do?’
‘Good, good,’ Zenya encouraged. ‘We are very bear-themed tonight, aren’t we, but keep them coming.’
Lola followed. ‘I keep googling “how to tell if you’re going through a spiritual awakening” but all the quizzes say I’m just dehydrated.’
Paul raised a hand as if in school. ‘I have fourteen unfinished tracks, am father to a kid I hardly ever see and make a mean lasagne.’
Emily, her mousy brown hair pushed back with a bright flowery headband, deadpanned, ‘I have killed seven housemates, I mean houseplants, in as many weeks. I was dating a narcissist and I’m not ready to talk about it yet.’
Annie chipped in. ‘I was once on a first date and accidentally set fire to a napkin while trying to be seductive with a candle. Took his whole beard off. I never saw him again.’
Zenya laughed and pressed a hand to her chest. ‘See? This is exactly what the moon wants. Vulnerability wrapped in nonsense.’
The crackling of the tiny driftwood fire was hypnotising. As Rita refilled everyone’s cups, Zenya leaned back on her elbows, looked to the stars, then cleared her throat.
‘All right, now that we’ve exposed our secrets to the sky and established that you’re all either emotionally unstable, arsonists or plant killers’ – everyone tittered – ‘let’s just do one more thing before you head back to the comfort of your yurts.’
She passed around mica-flecked stones she’d collected earlier. Holding one up, she instructed, ‘This is just a little symbol, for whatever you want to let go of tonight. You don’t have to say it aloud unless you want to.’
There was a quiet rustling as they all got their thoughts together; even Michael was still paying attention.
‘Think of something. A thought you keep going back to. A hope you’ve been afraid to name. Something you’re tired of carrying. Give it to the night.’
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Jude’s voice, low and steady. ‘I want to stop pretending I’m content with solitude. Yes, I enjoy the peace, but… it’s not always enough.’
Teo put his hand to his heart, stuck out his bottom lip and threw Jude a comforting smile.
Michael stirred beside him, tossing his stone gently from one hand to the other. ‘I want to believe I’m not past it. Past starting again, I mean. Maybe even finding love.’
Lola grinned but her eyes were glassy. ‘I want to stop apologising for taking up space. Emotionally, physically, all of it. So I’m a fat vegan; get over it.’
‘I want to finish some of what I’ve started,’ Paul said suddenly. ‘Even if it’s crap. Even if no one listens to it but me.’
Emily gave a dramatic sigh. ‘I want to try and rekindle my passion for painting.’
Annie sniffed and wiped her nose on her onesie. ‘I want men to take me seriously. See what’s beneath all this bravado.’
Teo then spoke, his voice slower, more thoughtful than usual. ‘Leaving the world of horse racing was so hard. I miss the rush. I miss the adulation. I want to settle somewhere. And within myself.’
‘Rita?’ Zenya asked gently.
Rita took a deep breath. ‘Grief isn’t something you get over. It’s something you carry until one day, it just doesn’t feel so heavy. I think… I’m ready to put some of it down now.’
The group fell into a brief, respectful silence.
Zenya closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words settle. Then she lifted her stone and tossed it into the sea. One by one, they followed suit, quiet splashes marking wishes and worries being carried off by the tide.
Rita sat for a while then, as the others got up to go, began packing up.
Paul joined her, helping gather the glasses.
‘Looks like it’s just me and you.’ Paul yawned as the others made their way sleepily to the beach car park for Teo to drive them back in the Land Rover.
‘Can I come back with you in the jeep? I don’t think I can bear any more of the woo-woo stuff. ’
‘How do you know I call it that?’ Rita laughed.
‘I didn’t. I call it the same.’ Paul grinned.
Rita picked up a couple of stray blankets and made sure that the fire was fully out.
‘Here.’ He took the blankets off her, walked towards one of the dunes and placed them gently down on the sand. ‘Are you in a hurry to get back, Rita?’
‘I do need to be up at six to get your breakfasts to the yurts.’
‘I’m sure nobody will be up early tomorrow.’ Paul handed her a beer.
Rita smiled, feeling a little thrill at his tone, and took the beer. She shivered, and Paul gently pulled a blanket around her, his hand brushing hers for just a second.
‘It’s so beautiful out here.’ Rita’s voice softened as she looked at him. ‘The beach at night… really is a magical place. I can’t believe I’ve lived here all this time and never done this.’
‘It’s beautiful. The ideal place to escape to.’ Paul’s perfect smile caught the moonlight, and Rita felt her heart skip at the romance of it all.