What would Archie want for her future, she wondered. He had never been a jealous man; a selfish one sometimes, but he always had her best interests at heart. He had always encouraged her to do more if she wanted to. But she had been happy with her life, the majority of the time, and had taken to motherhood well. She had enjoyed being the organiser. And even though now she really was the organiser of her own destiny, a new relationship had been the last thing on her mind.
For she’d built something. Somethingreal. And tomorrow five paying guests would arrive with bags and expectations and a need for peace, and she was ready (she hoped!) to meet them with everything they needed for a truly relaxing escape.
The melodic song of a blackbird above drew her gently out of her thoughts. As her eyes drifted down, they landed on the cubby hole. On impulse, she crouched and reached in, not expecting to find anything. Then after a good root around, her fingers brushed against something, causing her to act as if she’d been burned.
‘No bloody way.’ She laughed. Slowly, carefully, she drew out a small white piece of folded paper, her curiosity rising like a tide.
If you don’t know what to do, do nothing and let the answer come to you.
No name. Typed again. Just that single, steady sentence.
Rita stared at it, her heart twisting. For a fleeting moment, she wondered, could it have been her husband? Maybe, somehow, he’d left it behind. Maybe she’d missed it when she was here with Sennen before. A message from the past, waiting to catch her just as she was about to fall. She smiled, because wasn’t that exactlyhow the retreat idea had come to her? Out of nowhere, just when she needed it most.
Tucking the note into the pocket of her jeans, she headed to the yurts. She opened up all of the flaps to let the morning air drift in then headed back down the meadow path toward the barn. As she came around the corner, she stopped dead.
The space behind the barn, just yesterday a bare patch of concrete, now stood adorned with a smart white marquee. The front was rolled open, and she could see picnic benches had been arranged snugly inside. Fairy lights were strung inside and out. Her hand flew to her heart. Her bottom lip wobbled. There was clearly more to Jago Jenken than met the eye and on this occasion, his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. She stood for a moment, overwhelmed, then turned at the sound of gravel crunching.
A taxi pulled up on the courtyard and out tumbled Kelly with a bright pink wheelie case, owl-like sunglasses pushing back her thick blonde locks and red lipstick perfectly in place.
‘Reeeeeeeet!’ she squealed, flinging her arms in the air like a game show host. ‘The glam squad has landed!’
Rita blinked, then burst out laughing.
Kelly marched toward her, lifting a giant red tote bag. ‘Voila! One beauty kit. Hair dye, face creams, mini mani station, and my best chat. Hope you’ve got thevino blancoon ice.’
Rita opened her arms and let herself be hugged, hard and fast, nearly choking on the familiar sickly perfume that her best mate had been drenching herself with daily for years.
‘Wine, yes. Sanity, debatable.’
Kelly pulled back and beamed. ‘Doesn’t matter. You’ve got me now.’
TWENTY-ONE
Rita sat stiffly on an upcycled kitchen stool, a towel draped around her shoulders, while Kelly prowled around her with the focus of a seasoned stylist prepping a celebrity for the red carpet. A bottle of wine on the go.
‘I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.’ Rita laughed, eyeing the array of products on table. ‘I’m more wheelbarrow chic than runway sleek now.’
‘You never used to be like that and honestly, Reet, your hair. Even Vidal Sassoon would have struggled, the state it’s in.’
‘I know. I know. And before you say it, who’d have thought crows even had feet this big.’
‘Rubbish.’ Kelly double checked the hair dye instructions and took a slurp of wine. ‘You’ve got cheekbones that hardly even need a contour. And a wodge of moisturiser will sort out those fine lines. Now sit still and trust the process. You’re going to look like the mermaid of Seahaven Bay by the time I’m done. Actually, shit, I have a little gift for you.’ Kelly rooted around in her tote then pulled out a bright yellow rubber chicken.
‘Meet Nigel the second. You can take out all your rage on something that isn’t me.’
Rita gave it an experimental squish, causing its eyes to pop out dramatically.
‘Dear God.’ Rita’s shoulders started to shake. ‘Actually, this is disturbingly satisfying.’
‘And a lot quieter,’ Kelly added, gauging Rita’s reaction. ‘I also got you a back-up in white, in case Nigel Mark II explodes under pressure.’
Rita half smiled. ‘You’re still not forgiven. Bless that poor bird.’
They both laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen and out into the early evening. Rita let her shoulders drop and closed her eyes as Kelly began to work her magic.
After a prolonged period of silence, her knowing best friend asked, ‘Are you all right, Reet? I mean, really all right.’
‘Yeah, just tired. Lots to think about and do, you know.’ Rita refilled their glasses.
