Chapter 5
FIVE
When Jules woke up it was after eleven o’clock. She wandered downstairs in a clean lilac dressing gown, which she found on the end of her bed, to discover Carrie sitting at the kitchen table with a smiley-faced woman in a spotted, rose-pink, crisp cotton dress.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t realise there was anyone else here. I thought the voices were coming from the radio. I haven’t showered or washed my hair properly and I’d have got dressed.’
The woman rose from her chair in a surprisingly sprightly fashion and extended a hand.
‘I’m Rita. I look after things here and no need at all to apologise for anything.
Between you and me, a dressing gown is my favourite item of clothing.
Would wear mine all day every day if I could.
Might look a bit odd at the farmer’s market though.
Having said that there are some pretty odd people there, so I’d probably just fit right in. ’
She threw back her head, stuck out her chest and let out a throaty laugh which reverberated around the whole kitchen. So this was Saint Rita, Jules thought, the solver of all problems and bringer of smiles and cake.
‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ she said, shaking the warm, soft hand. ‘And it’s lovely to be able to tell you in person how much I appreciate the way you looked after Carrie when she first moved here.’
‘Oh, it was nothing,’ Rita protested. ‘I would do the same for anyone.’
She threw a glance towards Carrie who was leaning back in her chair and beaming from behind her mug of coffee.
‘Mind you,’ Rita said, conspiratorially to Jules, ‘I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for this one.’
‘Me too,’ Jules replied.
‘Stop it, you two,’ Carrie said, ‘you’re embarrassing me.’
‘Anyway,’ Rita said, ‘I must be on my way. I’ve got some deliveries to make on the other side of the island.
I just wanted to make sure that you were all settled, Jules.
You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?
I had no idea Carrie was here until I saw the car, but I needed to talk to her anyway. ’
‘I’m so sorry I can’t help you out,’ Carrie said. ‘But I’ve had this meeting planned in Bembridge forever and it’s had to be rearranged twice already.’
‘No worries,’ Rita replied. ‘I’m sure I can find someone else to collect Tasha. If necessary, she can just wait at The Pottery until I’ve finished my deliveries. Lance won’t mind and Erin will be pleased.’
She turned to Jules.
‘You must have passed The Pottery on your way here yesterday. It’s a wonderful place and my granddaughter is doing a summer course there and needs picking up at four.’
‘Remember, Jules?’ Carrie said. ‘I pointed it out to you.’
Jules nodded.
‘Lance has worked hard to make a go of it,’ Rita mused, ‘and it hasn’t been easy, bless him.
With losing his wife and bringing up two children.
Mind you, we all seem to be snowed under these days, one way or another, don’t we?
All of these gadgets and inventions, which are meant to make life easier but just seem to me to create a lot of stress and complications.
The Lord is my shepherd, I remind myself when it all gets too much.
He leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul.
Except the waters are sometimes whipped up into a frenzy and my soul is parched like too many other people’s.
’ She burst into a peal of laughter. ‘Listen to me, feeling sorry for myself. I don’t have anything to complain about really.
I live on the perfect island, have a comfortable home, clean water, good neighbours and the most wonderful grandchildren, two of them living right next door to me. How lucky is that!’
‘I think I saw Tasha yesterday,’ Jules said, ‘sitting at the side of the barn.’
‘Hiding no doubt,’ Rita said. ‘Feel like doing that myself sometimes, I can tell you.’
‘We waved to each other,’ Jules said.
‘I’d forgotten that you’ve already met!’ Carrie interjected.
‘Well, no, not exactly.’
‘You wouldn’t mind picking her up, would you?’
Yes, yes, I would. I’d mind a lot. Was Carrie deliberately ignoring her signals?
‘Rita has an old jalopy you can use. It’s fine for short trips and you’re still insured, aren’t you?’
‘Tasha wouldn’t want a complete stranger collecting her and…’
Jules felt her breath coming in little gasps. Panic gripped at her chest. She couldn’t do this. It was such a simple request, but she just couldn’t do it.
‘Don’t you worry, my love,’ Rita said. ‘I wouldn’t dream of imposing. You’re here on a break, not to run around after other folks.’
The pressure behind her breastbone eased a little.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jules said, aware that she sounded slightly out of breath and as if she was about to burst into tears. ‘Normally it would be fine, but I’m a bit useless at the moment.’
‘Oh, dearie,’ Rita said. ‘We all feel useless from time to time. It’s part of the human condition.
But as it says in the Bible, ‘even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.’ Matthew: Ten, I think.
And there are a lot of sparrows, aren’t there?
Now they are busy little birds and such lovely tuneful voices.
Anyway, I digress and I must get on. Remember, if there’s anything you need, I’m just around the corner.
You’re always welcome at the farmhouse and the kettle’s always at the ready. Carrie can attest to that.’
Jules and Carrie sat in silence for a moment after Rita had whirled out.
‘Why did you do that?’ Jules said at last, when the air had settled. ‘I thought you were the one who wanted me to veg out and do absolutely nothing.’
‘And you were the one saying that you might need some distractions. You’re always saying that you like to help.’
‘That was the old me.’
‘I don’t think the new you will be that much different,’ Carrie said gently.
Jules’s eyes widened.
‘I hope she will be. I hope she’ll be completely different.’
‘I’m sure Rita would have some biblical quote which says that helping others is a way of helping yourself,’ Carrie murmured.
‘Tasha did look like a child with the weight of the world on her shoulders and she was hiding.’
‘She has a difficult mother.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ Jules quipped.
‘Your mother isn’t anything like Christabel. She’s gone to the mainland, apparently, on one of her spur of the moment jaunts, but she’ll be back later, and Rita wants Tasha home before that to avoid any trouble.’
‘Why would there be trouble with Tasha going to The Pottery?’
‘I think,’ Carrie said slowly, ‘that Christabel has tried out her charms on Lance over the years without much success. You will soon learn if you stay here for a while that Christabel doesn’t react well to not getting her own way.
Sometimes she’s eager for Tasha to go to The Pottery and presumably thinks of it as another opportunity to enchant Lance and other times she goes into a major sulk and resolves never to let Tash see Erin again out of school.
Erin is Lance’s daughter and Tasha’s best friend. ’
‘What about Tasha’s father? Can’t he collect her?’
‘Up to his eyes with the harvest and Rita wouldn’t want to drag him away. Her whole life is devoted to making Alastair, Tasha and Will’s lives as smooth as possible, which I can tell you, with a daughter-in-law like Christabel is no mean feat.’
Jules was quiet for a moment.
‘So if Tasha isn’t home before her mother returns, she’ll be in trouble?’
‘Maybe, depending upon what sort of mood Christabel is in, but don’t worry. I’m sure we can sort it out.’
At five to four Jules pulled the boneshaker of a jeep into the little car park at the front of Island Pottery.
Her shoulder ached from yanking at the gearstick, and she massaged the side of her neck after pulling up the hand brake.
It was only a couple of months since she’d driven, but she felt completely traumatised by the car, the country roads and the feeling that she didn’t trust herself.
Before Carrie had headed off to her appointment they’d spent most of the day sitting in the garden talking about everything except Gavin.
Actually, Carrie had talked and she had listened, the calm and steady tone of her friend’s voice and the warmth of the sun actually helping her to doze at one point.
‘Jules,’ Carrie had said, lightly touching her hand and bringing her back to the real world from a distressing dream where she crashed the jeep into a ditch. ‘I’ve got to go. I’m really sorry. Rita’s left the car at the front of the cottage. Keys are on the kitchen table. Will you be all right?’
‘Mmm,’ she replied with not much conviction.
‘It’s a bit of a tank, that vehicle. Don’t be afraid to use brute force.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Just after three. You’ve got nearly an hour. The Pottery’s less than ten minutes down the road. Just keep going. You can’t miss it.’
But she almost had missed it. She’d nearly gone shooting past because she was thinking about Gavin. It was as if the beauty of the island emphasised her feelings of hopelessness. Another car pulled up next to her and a woman with a flowing scarf, flowing skirt and flowing hair got out.
‘What a glorious day,’ she said, smiling at Jules through the open window. ‘And I absolutely love this place. It has such a wonderful energy. Are you waiting here or walking through?’
She tilted her head towards the brick archway in the corner of the car park.
‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ Jules replied. ‘I’ve not been here before. In fact, I’ve only just arrived on the island.’
The woman looked as if she knew that already and Jules felt something curl up inside her. She obviously looked like a newcomer, as if she didn’t fit in. She’d felt like that at school with all of those cool girls making fun of her for her braces and plaits and homemade clothes.
‘You’re in for a treat. This island is the best place in the world. You can take the Caribbean or the Mediterranean any day. This beats them all, as far as I’m concerned.’