Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
The sky sat low and pearly over Seahaven Bay, a soft blanket of cloud muting the spring morning light.
Rita was glad that it wasn’t quite so warm as it had been of late.
She had so much to do with the wedding coming up and making sure all the yurts were fit for the upcoming guests.
Bookings on non-retreat days had definitely been picking up, which was a fantastic extra income and one with little hassle for her, as Zenya and Teo now took charge of that side of things.
She had blocked out stays the week before the wedding, wanting to make everything extra special not only for the wedding guests but also for Sennen’s reputation.
And, of course, for Imogen, who was clearly only coming to write an article about the actual wedding.
Rita intended to make certain that this time, the flighty imposter wouldn’t even find a single blade of grass out of place.
She walked up to the field for a moment, pausing to take it all in.
The air was full of the gentle hum of insects, birds calling to one another, and the distant, steady mooing of cows over at Hawthorn Acre.
Laughing as the goats surged forward like a badly rehearsed dance troupe, she tipped a bag of feed into their trough.
Camilla, brighter than she’d been in weeks, tried to leap the wooden rail entirely, misjudged it, and landed in a heap against her sister Mary, who responded with theatrical outrage.
‘Honestly, girls,’ Rita said, shaking her head. ‘You’d think I was starving you.’
Camilla lifted her chin, chewing smugly, and Rita smiled. There it was, that spark again. Less grumpy, more sass. A good sign. Rita leaned on the fence for a moment, watching the two youngest kids butt heads affectionately, and let herself breathe.
Her hand drifted without thinking to her stomach. Twins everywhere! And if Zenya was right, and she generally was, then two boys it would be, too.
It all still felt a bit unreal, like something borrowed from someone else’s life.
When Thom and Sennen had started school she had been at peace with the fact that it would be the last of her ever having sleepless nights or tiny socks that vanished in the washing machine.
She rolled a few of her favourite boys’ names around in her mind, Nathan and Noah.
Luca and Leo. Two more sons to add to the beautiful, messy patchwork of her life.
She smiled to herself. Life had a wicked sense of humour sometimes.
The barn door creaked as she pushed it open, the familiar scent of old wood, hay and incense from previous yoga sessions greeting her.
Inside, chairs Sennen had ordered in for the wedding were stacked in uneven towers, fairy lights hung out of boxes, alongside electric candles, which Rita thought would be less of a fire risk for a wedding party.
In another box were stunning Clarice Cliff vases that the bride had wanted filled simply with a pink rose aptly named Cinderella.
Teo was already there, sleeves rolled up, music playing softly through the speakers in the eaves. He had just started to lay out trestle tables.
‘Hola!’ Rita shouted over to him.
‘Hola, boss, mock-up wedding attempt number… what are we on now?’
‘Don’t,’ Rita laughed. ‘Sennen will be back from the harbour in a minute; let’s pretend we’re organised at least.’
They worked companionably for a few minutes, measuring spacing, nudging chairs an inch this way or that. Rita was standing back, squinting, when footsteps echoed on the floor behind them.
‘Wow,’ Sennen said, placing the bag of goodies she’d just got from Betty’s onto a chair. ‘I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already hosting a phantom wedding. I love this. They are the food tables, I take it.’ She nodded towards the trestles at the back of the room.
‘Sí, sí and that is the bar area,’ Teo added, directing to the huge back door that hopefully would be able to be open to show off the magnificent vista.
‘The white cloths have arrived too,’ Rita added. ‘I’ll keep them in the farmhouse for now.’ She put her hands on her hips and looked around her. ‘It’s all looking so professional. I had a peek at the vases; they are incredible, too. I love the fact they are all different.’
Sennen raised her eyebrows. ‘And very pricey, so we need to be careful.’
Rita started untangling fairy lights. ‘Did you manage to source the roses?’
Sennen nodded. ‘Yes, it took me an age, and they are not coming out until the last minute, so remind me, please, I will need to assign someone that little duty.’
‘Could Buds and Blooms in the harbour not help, then?’
‘No, so I ended up going to a flower shop all the way over in Hartmouth; Passion Flowers they’re called. The woman who runs it, Kara Dillon, couldn’t have been more accommodating, so I gave her the pedestal flowers order too.’
‘You are such a clever girl, Sen. I’m so proud of you.’
‘Aw, thanks, Mum.’
Sennen’s gaze flicked from the chairs to Teo and back to her mum. ‘Thank you, you two. I’m really impressed. If not mildly alarmed at what we still have to do. I’m so used to a venue just doing it all for me,’ Sennen whined.
‘We’ve got just under two weeks,’ Rita soothed. ‘It will be fine.’
‘Sí, it’ll be OK.’ Teo was now untangling the fairy lights ready to place around the beams. ‘Me and Zenya are at your command.’
‘And Thom said he would come down with Poppy the day before, although I’m not sure how much help she will be,’ Rita added.
‘Is he down again this weekend, too?’ Sennen joined Teo in the untangling. ‘I’m pretty sure I just saw him pulling into Hawthorn Acre.’
‘Did you? No. Well, if he is, he hasn’t told me. And I very much doubt he’d be around at this time of day. You know how busy with work he is.’
‘I say to you, I saw him,’ Teo added, switching up the music to something funkier.
‘Well, if he is, he can help us, too, can’t he. God!’ Sennen erupted, throwing down the string of lights on which she was working. ‘Why is it these lights get in such a mess!’
‘Here. Go and get something to eat, darling.’ Rita stepped forward as Sennen went to collect a bag of cinnamon buns from the table.
She stuffed one in and started talking with her mouth full. ‘I’m staying down for the duration now if that’s OK. I can work from here as I’ve got four summer weddings on the bubble.’
‘Of course you can, takes the pressure off me a bit, too.’ Rita sat herself down on a hay bale and continued with the lights on her lap.
‘Are you OK, Mum? You look tired.’
‘I am a bit. Hilda called me over late last night, which is so unlike her. Her chest is so bad. I made her a hot lemon drink and propped her up in bed so that she could breathe more easily.’
‘Not surprising the way she’s treated her lungs,’ Sennen scoffed.
‘But poor Granny.’ She put both her hands up.
‘That’s just cemented my decision on catering, then.
You’re definitely not doing it, Mum. I’ve got a company lined up, anyway.
Have a meeting with them in ten, so I’m going to go inside and call them with my laptop in front of me. ’
‘I’m going to come in too.’ Rita put the lights back down on a hay bale. ‘I need to stuff one of those buns in and sit down for a bit. I’m not particularly good at this Florence Nightingale lark.’
As she stood up, a small flicker of worry nudged at her.
If she were feeling like this after one late night, what on earth would she be like when the twins arrived?
Would she be running on empty, juggling nappies, bottles, and midnight feeds, her hair in a permanent knot and her nerves stretched as thin as the fairy lights she had been untangling?
She closed her eyes and pictured tiny feet pattering across the floor, two little faces looking up at her with all the mischief and sweetness she had ever loved in her children.
Her heart gave a little flip, part dread and part excitement, and she smiled despite herself.
It would be chaotic, exhausting, and wonderful all at once.
She would have to find a way to survive, to thrive, and somehow keep a sense of humour intact, just like she always did.