Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
Rita had thought of nothing else but Jago since the night she’d run out on him.
Not properly. Not clearly. But like a song stuck in the background of her thoughts, looping and unresolved.
She didn’t know what to do, not yet. She was waiting.
Waiting for the moment to feel right, for her heart to stop racing every time his name entered her mind.
To be a grown-up and work out exactly the best way to deal with a situation that was so huge, so scary, and so out of control.
If you don’t know what to do, do nothing. Let the answer come to you.
So, she had done nothing, except check her phone more times than she could admit, hoping he might come to her first. Hoping he’d open the conversation, close the distance, make it easy.
But he hadn’t. And now the silence between them felt heavy.
Awkward. Like a thread they’d both let go of at the same time.
She felt awkward, too. Off-balance. Because if she did open herself to him, really open herself, what would that mean?
Was it too soon? Would it be disrespecting Archie?
What would the twins think? And were her feelings duping her, was Jago truly who she wanted, or was he just a shelter in the storm of her grief?
The questions had no shape. No voice. Just a constant churn beneath the surface.
The smell of roast potatoes and thyme filled the Snack Shack, curling around the bunting Kelly had taped to the ceiling in a slightly wonky zigzag. A paper crown was sliding off the back of Sennen’s head as she grinned over her third helping of Zenya’s chicken traybake.
‘How can anyone make anything so delicious with their own fair hands?’ Sennen mumbled, mouth full and slightly inebriated on the flowing fizz.
‘Because I use love,’ Zenya said, taking a slurp from her flute. ‘And three whole bulbs of garlic on this occasion.’
‘As long as you didn’t use Mavis, Vera, Blanche or Deirdre,’ Kelly hooted.
‘Says the cockerel killer!’ Sennen guffawed.
‘I thought I could smell it from the annexe.’ Jude laughed, leaning back, his face flushed, as Teo looked at him adoringly.
The birthday energy was buzzing, and the table was crowded with food and people Rita loved.
She looked around and smiled at Kelly fanning herself with a huge flamenco-type fan that Hilda had lent her, and announcing, ‘I swear if one more person says “perimenopause” to me, I’m moving to Iceland and taking them with me. ’
‘Not you as well,’ Rita added.
Hilda, meanwhile, had commandeered the end of the table and was now giving Zenya a detailed description of how Eric had enticed her into his hot tub naked.
Laughter rippled between them, cracker gifts were strewn everywhere, and someone had stuck a cherry tomato onto the top of a bottle of Prosecco like it was a party hat.
It was all joy, all colour, all that Rita had hoped for. All that was missing was her number one son. For it was his birthday too.
‘So, when are your next retreat guests arriving?’ Kelly wiped her mouth on a napkin.
‘Last week of August, so we’ve got a bit of time,’ Rita said, starting to clear some plates to make way for the cake.
‘I still think we should get a mobile sauna in one of the outhouses,’ Teo suggested.
‘Maybe. Once that group has paid their way, I’ll take a look.’ Rita sat back down.
Hilda took a slug of her drink. ‘Because nothing says relaxation like boiling to death in a shed.’
Rita raised her glass. ‘Before we all get too wasted, I just want to say thank you. To Zenya and Teo, for keeping everything afloat, feeding us, and somehow making this place feel like home and a healthy retreat at the same time.’
Teo stood and took a small bow. Zenya waved her fork like a queen.
‘Oh, and let’s raise a glass for Stan,’ Rita added quickly. ‘His wife’s got a bad cold, and he didn’t want to leave her. But I said we’d save him some cake.’
‘Two bits,’ said Teo. ‘One for his wife and one for him being the biggest sweetheart of a man.’
Zenya nodded. ‘Done. I’ll label them. FOR STAN: DO NOT TOUCH, EVEN IF YOU’RE DRUNK.’
She then slipped out the back without a word, and a moment later returned, carrying the birthday cake in both hands. A glorious, slightly lopsided Victoria sponge crowned with candles, the last strawberries from the garden and oodles of clotted cream.
‘We ready?’ She grinned.
Everyone leaned in, the flickering flames dancing on Sennen’s face. She blinked quickly, trying to hold it together, but her eyes were already welling.
‘Oi,’ said Rita gently, nudging her side. ‘It’s unlucky to cry on your birthday.’
‘It’s not just my birthday, though, is it?’ Sennen whispered, eyes on the candles. ‘It’s our birthday. Mine and Thom’s.’
And then, just as the first notes of ‘Happy Birthday’ filled the room, the flap of the Snack Shack marquee flew open.
And to Rita’s joy, Thomas Jory stood there, all six foot two of him, auburn hair catching the light, looking more like Archie with every passing day.
His eyes immediately searched for his sister.
‘Happy birthday, Thomas and Sennen!’ he sang out, not missing a note as his voice joined the chorus.
Sennen laughed. Rita felt her heart skip a beat.
The song ended in a ragged cheer. Teo clapped. Jude blew an invisible trumpet. Zenya set the cake down triumphantly, then handed Sennen a knife.
‘Make a wish,’ Kelly shouted.
Sennen glanced at her brother. ‘Already did.’
Later, when the cake was half eaten, the sun slipping into the horizon, and the Prosecco bottles mostly empty, Rita found Thom standing at the edge of the orchard, facing the fields and the wide shimmering stretch of sea beyond.
She walked towards him quietly. ‘Did you get some cake?’
He nodded, not turning. Just stared out over the trees now promising their crops of apples, pears and plums. A lone gull passed overhead, reminding them they were very much in the moment.
‘I’m sorry,’ Thom said eventually, his voice low. ‘I’ve been a bit of a mess since… everything. And I can’t even imagine how much I’ve hurt you.’
Rita breathed in slowly. ‘Let’s sit.’
They sat on the bench seat at the end of the orchard. Thom took a visible breath. ‘I’ve avoided the farm because it reminded me too much of Dad.’
‘I understand.’ Rita reached for his hands across the table, and he let her hold them.
‘I didn’t know how to talk about him or Jago. The will. Any of it. And then after me sending that letter to you… and Sennen letting me know about Teo… well, even with your message to come today… it was just… easier not to call.’
Rita looked at him, properly looked, and saw the little boy he used to be, wild-haired, fiercely loyal, and now pouring out a heart that had always seemed too big for his chest. Her Thomas was back.
‘Thom, it’s OK,’ Rita soothed.
‘No. It’s not, Mum, let me finish. I knew too much.
A few years ago, I overheard a conversation between Dad and another man.
Dad had his phone on speaker… he was in the barn…
he didn’t know I was outside… and I listened…
and I wish I hadn’t. And I didn’t really understand what it was about, until Dad died and then I realised that someone else may be getting some of our share – mine and Sennen’s, and I didn’t think it fair.
And I so appreciate you emailing me the will, to put it straight and… ’
Rita sighed deeply. This wasn’t the time to tell Thomas that he had another uncle in Jago and that he had been the other man at the end of the phone. ‘And when you saw Jago that time I spotted you… was it really that the sheep had escaped?’
‘Yes, yes, that was all true. Jago didn’t say a word to me. Nobody is planning to take the farm from under you. I’ve ended all the solicitor representation. I’m such a twat!’
‘It broke me.’ Rita couldn’t help it. ‘To know my son was trying to oust me out of my own house.’
‘Please don’t,’ Thom begged. ‘I realise now I didn’t really want the money, or for you to sell.
I just didn’t want a complete stranger getting something, especially as I realised that you probably knew nothing about it.
I just want to know that you’re OK. That we’re OK.
I love you, Mum, and I’m going to come and see you more. I promise.’
‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’ Rita was more measured now.
‘I haven’t been the best son, I know that. I’m driven, my job is important and when Dad went… I couldn’t face it here. I miss him so much, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.’
Rita thought of not being able to walk into the big lounge for nine months. ‘I get it. I really do. And we’re OK. Even when we’re messy. You’re my son, for God’s sake.’
Thomas hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box. He held it out to her, voice thick. ‘I… I know it’s silly, but I wanted you to have this.’
Rita blinked, confused. He opened it, revealing a delicate necklace sparkling in the fading light, an exact replica of the one Archie had given her for her thirtieth birthday, lost in the mud months ago. Her throat tightened.
‘Dad would have done the same,’ Thom said, voice breaking, eyes glistening. ‘I just… I wanted you to have it.’
Rita felt tears sting, warm and sudden. She took the box and pressed it to her chest. ‘Oh, Thom… We will never forget him, love. He will always be part of us.’
Thom got up, lifted his mum off the bench seat, then surprised them both by pulling her into a tight bear hug. A hug that didn’t ask for anything other than his mother’s love.