‘Oh, I don’t know. But I’m loving doing this, Kel. I haven’t felt this sense of purpose for a long time.’
‘So don’t let him bully you.’
Rita blinked hard. ‘Archie used to get his way a lot, too, didn’t he?’
Kel’s voice was softer. ‘Yes, he did, Reet. We are programmed to remember the good times, don’t forget that.’
‘Are you all right? Ron behaving himself?’
‘Don’t get me started. He just did a lap of the garden shouting, “Winner!” as he got Wordle in two goes.’
‘I think you’d miss him if he wasn’t there.’
‘Maybe, but only because I’d have no one to correct my grammar.’
‘Right, I’d better get on. Thanks for checking in.’ Rita finished off her tea.
‘Before you go, any more notes in the tree? You know I’m living vicariously through your mystery note leaver.’
‘No, the last one was, “If you don’t know what to do, do nothing and the answer will come to you.”’
‘Hmm. Strange. Any ideas what that could mean?’
‘I guess I’m still waiting for the answer to come to me, whatever it may be.’ Rita laughed and stood. ‘I’d better go and oversee Stan and Teo getting the Snack Shack back in order… and make sure Nigel is resting in peace.’
Kelly groaned. ‘Don’t mention the cock!’
Rita noticed the beautiful vase of flowers on the coffee table and her thoughts drifted back to the kiss. What if Hilda was right? What if her son and Jago were in cahoots, trying to force her into selling the farm? Surely her judgement couldn’t be that off. But then again, if money was involved, Jilly and Teo were right.She’d seen how it could turn people into vultures. Even the ones you thought you knew. She reached for her washing basket from the utility room and headed outside.
Rita unpegged clothes from the washing line that Teo had kindly strung up in her private walled garden, tucked neatly out of sight of the guests. Her mind was racing as she shook out T-shirts with unnecessary force then threw them untidily into her ancient plastic washing basket. The breeze had picked up, flapping at the sheets still pegged on the line, and with every tug of fabric, her frustration bubbled higher.
‘Same as me, domesticity never did come easy to you, did it?’ Hilda’s voice drifted from the garden gate as she stepped through it, wearing black leggings and a pink T-shirt to match her trainers. ‘Before I met Archie’s father, I was more used to sending out laundry from a boutique hotel in Florence than folding it myself in a Cornish garden.’
Rita didn’t turn. ‘If you’ve come to lecture me again, don’t bother. I’ve had enough this week already.’
‘Yes, I saw the marquee took a hit.’
Rita replied tersely. ‘It’s hardly a firm structure and just a scratch on the Land Rover’s bumper so all is well, thank you, Hilda.’
Hilda came to her daughter-in-law’s side. ‘I came to help you bring the washing in. Not to have a go at you.’
‘Fine. But I’m still annoyed with you.’
‘Is this about Jago Jenken or the will?’
‘Of course it’s about the will and yes… Jago too! Why would you mention that in front of Thom? I don’t want him to think I can’t cope or worry him unnecessarily.’
Hilda folded a tea towel and threw it in the basket. ‘I just wanted to see how he’d react. You’re acting like you can trust everyone, even with the financial mess Archie left you in. And whether you believe it or not, Rita, I’ve got your back.’
‘I have to be able to trust my own son, surely.’ Rita sighed. ‘Or what kind of mother does that make me?’
‘But can you?’ Hilda’s voice remained level.
That stung more than Rita cared to admit. She looked away. ‘What, you think he may have hidden the will. But why?’
‘I don’t know. But he might be influenced. By someone who knows how to twist things to their advantage.’
That did it. Rita’s spine stiffened. ‘Right.’
