‘Thank you.’ Rita reinstated her smile. ‘And of course, we have you vegans covered.’ But inwardly, she cringed at her own blatant lie, realising that some guests would almost certainly expect vegan options. She was sure Zenya had the cooking skills to manage it, but Rita wasn’t about to start stocking every milk alternative on the supermarket shelf or catering to every fad diet going. Plain old cow’s milk had always been enough for her and her family.
‘I didn’t want this to feel like some kind of wellness prison,’ Rita noted. ‘No juice-only regimes here. What’s the fun in that?’ She smiled and caught the eye of a laid-back-looking man withstraight, shoulder-length mousy hair, annoyingly perfect teeth and sunglasses. He gave her a slow nod and a little half smile, as though the comment was meant just for him. Rita felt a flicker of heat rise in her cheeks – for heaven’s sake, was she actually blushing?Get a grip, woman.
She cleared her throat. ‘Back to buildings of note. The Splash Stopis in the annexe next to the farmhouse, with a shower, bath, and proper loo.There is also an outside toilet, shower of sorts and sink in the outbuildings down by the orchard, signposted “Number Two”.’ Another small ripple of laughter. ‘The Serenity Barn, adjoining this building, really is our peaceful go-to space and where most of the sessions will be held. The Orchard is where we will run yoga sessions if the weather holds like it has been. Or you may simply want to read or chill there. There’s a resort guide book in each yurt that covers all of this, plus local walks, restaurants, bus times and timetables, cinema listings, everything you might need for Seahaven Bay. I’m sure you’ll have loads of questions, but for now, I’ll let you go and settle into your new home for the month of July.’ Rita looked to Kelly, who mouthed, ‘Guest slot.’
‘Oh, yes and at the Seahaven Bay Retreat we like to mix it up a bit and have a special monthly guest slot, details of which I will enlighten you with during your stay.’
Having delivered the guests’ luggage to their yurts, Zenya and Teo rushed into place at the back of the tent. ‘Up to you if you’d like to walk up to High Meadow. It’s around half a mile from what I’m calling Yurt Avenue. Zenya here is happy to show you the way. Or Teo will be outside in the Land Rover if you’d prefer to get your bones rattled.’ People began to stand. ‘Oh, and one more important thing. Zenya, Teo and I will be under the Singing Tree at six p.m. tonight where the plan is a really informal meet and greet circle, where you can ask as many questions as you like. We’d love to see some of you, ideally all of you, there.’
As the guests slowly filed out of the marquee into the steaming July afternoon, a soft buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Four of the guests followed Zenya on foot towards the High Meadow,chatting quietly, whilst Vodka Man, to Teo’s complete confusion, heaved himself into the Land Rover, shouting, ‘To the High Meadow, lad, and don’t spare the horses.’
Rita stood outside the marquee with the afternoon sunshine warming her shoulders, Kelly by her side, now laughing aloud.
‘Bloody hell, Reet, can we open some wine now, please?’
Rita smiled, emotion catching in her throat. ‘You can. I want to stay sober until at least after the meet and greet. Weirdly, in all the preparation for this retreat I never thought aboutwhomight book onto it; I didn’t realise quite what having five different personalities under one roof might bring to the proceedings.’
Kelly smirked. ‘Well, we know someone who won’t be staying sober. Hilarious. I can’t wait to hear his story. And who’s the guest slot for July?’
Rita laughed. ‘I’ve no idea but I’m sure something will come to me.’
They made their way inside the cool farmhouse. This was it, a new beginning, a new venture. The Seahaven Bay Retreat was officially open, and Rita Jory could finally release some of her money worries and, hopefully, begin to grasp a new lease of life.
TWENTY-THREE
By six o’clock, the late sun was slanting golden through the branches of the Singing Tree, a slight breeze setting the wind chimes on their dance of heavenly tinkling. The grass was warm, the bees were heading back to their hives, and Teo had just finished arranging some hay bales in a wonky semicircle.
Rita stood at the front, her nerves disguised beneath a cheery smile. Zenya sat, legs crossed and barefoot, in the grass. Teo leaned against the trunk.
Rita was happy to see all the new retreat guests were gathered, each clutching a biodegradable welcome cup filled with more of the fizz from earlier.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ Rita said brightly. ‘I hope you’ve settled into your new temporary homes – they have a pretty amazing view, won’t you agree?’ Nobody said anything. Zenya and Teo shared a quick ‘brace yourself’ glance. ‘You’ve officially survived your first few hours at Seahaven Bay Retreat, so well done. Tonight, as we are such a small group, I thought we’d do a gentle welcome circle under the Singing Tree. My personal favourite place to just be.’
A few hesitant glances passed amongst the group.
‘Optional but encouraged,’ Zenya said, standing up.
Rita continued, ‘We’d love for you to introduce yourselves –just your name, maybe why you’re here, or what you hope to get from the retreat. Or you can say nothing at all.’
A woman perched confidently on a hay bale in a cheetah-print kaftan and gold wedges, her thick blonde hair curled to perfection, didn’t wait for permission.
‘I’ll go first. I’m Annie. Fifty-nine. Former cabin crew where I spent thirty years serving tea at thirty thousand feet while avoiding turbulence and terrible pick-up lines. Not much has changed. Serial dater. Serial heartbreaker. And seriously terrible at Tinder. I’m hoping to find inner peace or a man with a decent pension and a bad heart. Either will do.’
Zenya nodded graciously, as if the extroverted Annie had just announced she was here to study philosophy.
‘Well, don’t be looking at me with pound signs in your eyes,’ Vodka Man quipped.
‘I do have some standards,’ Annie spat back.
Everybody was now smirking.
Next to Annie was Lola, looking glorious in lemon yoga pants, smelling of patchouli oil, her purple hair in a single plait this time. She beamed enthusiastically. ‘Hi! I’m Lola. I’m twenty-five, a Virgo sun, Pisces moon, and I run a plant-based wellness brand called Vibe & Thrive on Instagram.’
She paused for dramatic effect, expecting recognition. She wasn’t deterred when it didn’t come. ‘I’ve just come off a five-day liquid chlorophyll cleanse and I’m hoping to spiritually realign, emotionally detox, and maybe lose the last stone that’s clinging to my aura.’
Vodka Man groaned audibly and then luckily only in Teo’s direction, whispered, ‘To her fat arse, she means.’
All heads turned to the middle-aged man with a pot belly, red nose, and perfectly coiffed silver-grey hair with tidy matching beard. He was slouched with a suspiciously large reusable water bottle between his legs and a scowl miserable enough to turn the weather.
