‘I’m Michael,’ he muttered. ‘Divorced. Divorce lawyer. Oldenough to know better. Recently detoxed from own marriage and now actively retoxing with spirits and I don’t mean the ethereal kind. There will be no singing. Or tree-hugging. And don’t even think of sticking a blessed herbal enema anywhere near any of my orifices.’
Lola blinked. ‘Maybe that is exactly what you need. I think you might be holding a whole lot of stagnant energy.’
Rita, realising this probably would be the only thing Michael would be holding on to, quickly intervened. ‘Well, welcome, Michael, and let’s hope we can release some of it in other ways, eh?’
Michael muttered and took another swig from his potent water bottle.
Next came the chiselled-featured long-haired, good-teeth man. He wore dark sunglasses even in the shade and hadn’t spoken much since arriving. He pulled them down slightly now, revealing tired, kind eyes.
‘Call me Paul. Here to write music and escape the industry and the world for a bit.’
He gave a lazy shrug. Rita felt her stomach flutter as his gaze lingered on her just a fraction too long. He carried a sexy arrogance that made her pulse quicken. What was going on with her? She hadn’t seen Jago for a while, but out of sight had not meant out of mind. Something had stirred within her, and she wasn’t sure how to navigate her feelings. She shifted slightly, self-conscious, and cursed herself for noticing Paul’s unnerving charm. Annie eyed him with interest and the others looked like they were trying to place him. Then came the awkward pause. All eyes shifted to the small, mousy woman on the end who had been pretending to be part of the tree trunk.
She cleared her throat nervously.
‘I’m Emily.’ She was almost inaudible. ‘An accountant. Thirty-three. I didn’t… really want to come, but my company thought I needed “a reset”. I’m um… here for the peace and to read books. So, if I don’t say much, it’s not personal. It’s just… me.’
Everyone softened a little at that. Even Michael.
Rita clapped her hands gently. ‘Thank you all for sharing. Or not sharing. Either way, you’re here, and that’s the main thing. Dinner is at seven thirty, a delicious vegetable chilli, with ingredients straight from the farmhouse garden, and Zenya will be doing a moon stretch class in the orchard afterwards. Optional but good for the glutes.’
‘And the gut,’ Zenya added.
‘Not after a blessed chilli,’ Michael added.
Teo raised his mug. ‘And remember, if you hear bells at night, it’s just the Singing Tree. Or maybe the goats.’
‘Or your conscience,’ Paul added dryly with a smirk, catching Rita’s eye.
Lola gasped excitedly. ‘Do we get to meet the goats?’
And just like that, under the rustling branches of the Singing Tree, the group began to take its first wobbly step towards becoming something more than strangers. Or at least, an eclectic mixture of characters who might survive a month with limited Wi-Fi.
TWENTY-FOUR
Rita, knowing that she had promised to get the breakfast baskets up to the yurts by seven sharp, set her alarm for five thirty, had a quick shower, and went downstairs to make herself a coffee. Betty had kindly said that as she and her Derek were up baking from 3 a.m. anyway, one of them would drop the cool bags at the end of the farm drive daily to save Rita coming down the hill. Another reason for getting up early was to be nosy and see if any of the guests had joined Teo for his first trek, yoga and swim session at Seahaven Cove. Once they had found some kind of routine, she told herself she would get Teo to do a private session with her. Just the short ten minutes of relaxation that he had shared in the orchard certainly had certainly made her feel lighter – until Jago had arrived, that was.
‘Hola, chica.’ A sleepy Teo arrived, grabbing a coffee for himself and hunting for the Land Rover keys in the pot on the kitchen side. It had been a no-brainer for Rita to get him insured on Archie’s vehicle. She had found out that her cheerful yoga instructor was fine to drive with his Spanish licence and had said as long as she didn’t need it for guests, he could use it at his leisure, too, which had delighted him.
‘Let us see if anyone has got out of bed, shall we?’ Rita saidaloud, nursing her coffee and spying out of the window. She was not only delighted to see that Lola, Paul and Annie had made it down from the High Meadow but also at how polite and proficient Teo was in greeting them all.
Seahaven Bay boasted two beaches: a long, expansive sandy stretch loved by surfers, and Seahaven Cove, a small, quiet inlet so hidden even satnavs struggled to find its small car park. The cove, a favourite of early morning swimmers, was framed by tall, weathered cliffs streaked with wild gorse and heather. Unlike the sandy beach, here there were only smooth grey pebbles, flattened and polished by time and weather. Reaching the cove required a half-mile walk along a wooded path that opened onto a flat grassy area with a breathtaking view of the horizon. From there, rugged steps had to be carefully negotiated to reach the peaceful, seaweed-strewn beach below. It was a perfect scenario and setting for a short hike, yoga and swim session.
‘Wow, this is amazing,’ Paul breathed, as the four of them stepped out of the wooded path and were hit by the full force of the view ahead, the vast sweep of ocean and stunning enclosed beach unfolding beneath the grassy hillock they were now standing on.
Annie, puffing like a steam train, raised an eyebrow. ‘I take it you’ve never been to Cornwall before, then, Paul?’
The long-haired musician gave a tired grin. ‘Nah, never. Been on my list but never made it, until now. I’ve travelled the world but seen nothing quite like this.’ He paused, letting the sea air fill his lungs. ‘Different kind of vibe.’
‘Should I know who you are?’ Annie had already been trying to take a sly photo which she could put into Google images as soon as the phone signal was good enough.
Paul smiled wryly. ‘Probably not. I’mmore of a background kind of guy. And that was the old me; I’m here now. OK. Just Paul. And I’d like you to get to know me as just Paul the person, OK?’
‘Bet. Gotcha,’ Annie replied, rocking her expensive designer tracksuit. She reached in her rucksack for her mat and a bottle of water.
Lola, with her purple hair in two pigtails, tight black yoga pants enhancing her very round bottom and a BEETS NOT BEEF-branded T-shirt, screwed her face up at Annie’s attempt to get down with the kids.
‘So did you see the others this morning?’ Teo enquired, choosing a spot as near to the cliff edge as he dared to lay down his yoga mat without causing a landslide. The others followed.
