The next morning Rachel lay in bed listening to the noise of people downstairs getting on with the day. At Linston End she always slept in. It was one of the many pleasures of being here, she could be a carefree teenager again; free of all responsibility, her only commitment that of enjoying the long lazy days of summer.
She breathed in deeply, then exhaled a long sigh of contentment, at the same time stretching out her arms and legs like a starfish. She could honestly say she hadn’t felt this good in ages and she put it down to being free of the tyranny of a relationship that had been such hard work. All that effort into trying to make it better than it really was, what an idiot she had been!
Until now she hadn’t viewed it that way, but in the days since Paul had dumped her, she had gone through a whole raft of emotions, starting with the feeling that she had been hit by a truck, and then by a steamroller for good measure. Insanely bruised, battered and flattened, that’s how she’d felt in the first twenty-four hours, unable to grasp that one minute Paul could tell her he loved her, and the next, he didn’t. That night in her flat, surrounded by all those blasted candles she’d spent a fortune on, he’d tried to explain that he’d only said he loved her because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. After he’d gone, she’d thrown herself on the bed and sobbed; she had hated him for telling her that, because it was true. Then she had hated herself for being so pathetic, for being so desperate to be loved.
She realised now it was her ego that had taken a beating, not her heart. She’d actually had worse break-ups and the fact that she had bounced back so quickly, and could see things so clearly, proved that she had been kidding herself that she loved Paul. She’d been suffering from Desperate-Thirty-Something syndrome, fixated on finding the so-called love of her life before it was too late.
Well, to hell with too frickin’ late!
And to hell with finding love!
What she needed was fun, and epic amounts of it!
And she fully intended to have exactly that while here on holiday. It was a shame poor Dad couldn’t do the same; he seemed determined to have a rotten time, devoting all his energy to disliking Valentina. Mum didn’t give the impression of falling over herself to like Alastair’s new woman either, but then it couldn’t be easy trying to shift their loyalty from Orla to her replacement.
Rachel had experienced the very same thing when she’d met Paul’s family, so she wasn’t without sympathy for Valentina. Following in the footsteps of an ex was no easy task. Some ex-partners had the power to make their presence felt every step of the way, even though they were invisible, but there they hovered in the wings waiting for their moment to take the stage.
Through the open bedroom window she heard music playing outside; distant music. For a few seconds she heard it more distinctly, then it stopped. Then it started again. Curious, she slipped out of bed and went to the window, expecting the source of the music to be in the garden. But the garden was empty.
Her gaze moved down the length of the lawn towards the river until it lingered on the mill opposite. There on the wooden balcony somebody – a man – was playing a violin. She listened properly now to the exquisite sound drifting across the water; it was hauntingly sad and went straight to her heart. Her elbows resting on the windowsill, she wished she had a pair of binoculars to get a better look at the violin player. Then once more the music stopped. This time it didn’t resume and, disappointed, she watched the man lower the violin from his chin, turn around and go back inside the mill.
Alastair had said he’d invited his neighbour to join them for dinner that evening, along with her son who was visiting. Presumably this was the son. Interesting.
By the time she made it downstairs, everybody had decided what they would be doing with their day. Alastair was taking Valentina out on the river, just the two of them – Rachel supposed they needed to escape from the rest of them for a bit – and would return later after they’d fetched Valentina’s stepchildren from the station.
Danny and Frankie were going to Ranworth Broad to the Wildlife Trust, and Mum and Dad were going to Hoveton Hall Gardens, leaving Rachel and Jenna to have the place to themselves as well as make themselves useful.
‘How come we got landed with the short straw?’ muttered Rachel, after everyone had gone.
‘I thought you’d leap at the chance to have a day of doing practically nothing,’ said Jenna.
‘It’s thepracticallyof that sentence that worries me. How much slaving have we got to do?’
‘Hardly any. Sylvia is coming in to do the bulk of the cooking, but I’ve volunteered us to make a chocolate mousse and a lemon syllabub.’
‘And then we get to lie on a pair of sun loungers?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Yes, you can do whatever you want, once we’ve made the desserts.’
‘What are we waiting for, let’s get cooking!’
They hit their first snag when they discovered there weren’t enough eggs in the fridge. ‘That’s that, then,’ said Rachel with more than a hint of relief. ‘I’ll go and prepare my sun lounger.’
‘You wouldn’t prefer to walk down to the shops with me to buy some eggs?’ suggested Jenna.
Rachel groaned. ‘It’s much too hot for that. Why don’t we ring one of the others to tell them to fetch us some eggs, and we’ll knock up the desserts later?’
‘I have a better idea; let’s take a boat and go the scenic way.’
But still Rachel wasn’t keen and Jenna could see no amount of persuasion on her part would make Rachel change her mind. As she went outside and round to the dyke where Alastair kept his run-about dinghy, she conceded that her own stubbornness to get the desserts made was as bad as Rachel’s commitment to laze the day away on a sun lounger with a book. They were two of a kind in that respect, both as strong-willed as the other.
Walking along the wooden jetty, Jenna untied the dinghy, hopped in and after making sure the shift lever was in the neutral position, she pulled out the choke on the outboard motor, and gave the starter rope a tug. It took a couple of goes, but then she was off, guiding the boat out of the boathouse. She joined the river and after pausing to admire the yellow water lilies, she picked up speed, but making sure to keep within the limit.
It was such a beautiful day she was now glad they’d run out of eggs and she had this chance to enjoy the river. She loved the freedom of being on the water like this and could quite understand Callum’s passion for it. When she passed Snazzell’s Boatyard she slowed her speed, but there was no sign of him. She was relieved he’d forced her into being honest with him yesterday, happy now to have their friendship back on an even keel. Seeing how fraught things were becoming between Simon and Alastair, she never wanted that to happen with her and Callum, Rachel too.
With luck on her side, she arrived in Horning just as a boat was vacating a mooring space in front of the Staithe and Willow Tea Rooms. A man who’d just finished tying up a large motor cruiser next to her offered his assistance, and Jenna graciously accepted, even though she could manage on her own. No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth, was her view.
The boat secure, she set off the short distance to the general store. The eggs bought, as well as a mint Magnum to eat on the way back, she returned to the busy staithe. She placed the eggs carefully in the small locker in the prow, put the ice cream to one side and was about to untie the boat, when she heard a voice. ‘Well, of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.’
