‘Just the one glass for me!’ Michael announced loudly. ‘I can’t be being a complete drunken tosser again and risk you all leaving me out here in the dark, now can I?’
‘Well done,’ Rita said encouragingly, having realised quite quickly that her no alcohol ruling had been shortsighted and might even put off some prospective guests. She wanted the retreat to be a place for freedom and choice, not one bound by rigid rules.
‘One bottle, he probably means,’ Lola said to the sky.
Rita and Teo sat on either side of their warrior queen, offering moral support. Truth be told, Rita needed some of that herself after her scrap with Jago. She still felt a bit sick from it all, a bit rattled, raw.
Realising none of them were wanting to abstain from alcohol for a whole month, the group had decided to bring wine. Even Emily had thrown up her hand when they’d taken a vote earlier that day. As Teo had driven them all down to the beach, Rita was also inclined to drown her sorrows.
Michael dropped his camping chair into the sand with a grunt, held up a packet of marshmallows like a peace offering. ‘Do these count as soul food?’
Emily giggled. ‘Only if your soul’s made of glucose and self-loathing.’
Michael snorted. ‘Darling girl, even Satan would move out of my head if he was living with my thoughts.’
Annie, already cocooned in a Rupert the Bear onesie and two blankets, peered up at the sky. ‘Is that the Bear? I’m sure I can see the Bear.’
Zenya looked hard at the sky. ‘Yes. Ursa Major – the Great Bear. Well done, that woman.’
‘She looks like a blessed great grizzly bear in what she’s wearing,’ Michael whispered to Paul, who couldn’t help but laugh.
‘What star sign are you?’ Emily asked Annie, squinting thoughtfully at the constellations.
‘Whichever one is shit at relationships, I guess. My birthday is March thirteenth.’
‘Pisces.’ Zenya nodded gently. ‘I’m one, too. Definitely got the creative side, still learning the romance bit.’
Annie grunted. ‘It’s fish, isn’t it? Probably why men keepslipping through my fingers.’ She took a huge slug of wine from her paper cup.
‘I thought there would be more stars on a clear night like this,’ Rita added, leaning back onto her blanket. Paul, who had moved to be nearer the sea, flopped down beside her, cracking open a can of lager. He laughed. ‘Maybe they are just a little shy with all these weirdos staring up at them.’ Rita felt his presence strangely comforting.
Zenya produced a Tupperware of something homemade and vegan. ‘Moonballs. Oats, dates, almonds, sprinkle of hope and a touch of luck. Help yourself.’
Michael leaned in. ‘I’m just saying, if anyone starts chanting or howling, you’ll find me lying in the dunes over there.’ Then, on seeing somebody walking right towards them completely in the dark, he jumped. Zenya lifted her torch to see who it was. There was Jude, the quiet and unassuming bookseller, puffing on a vape.
‘Aw, you made it. I’m so pleased.’ Rita smiled warmly and threw him a spare blanket. ‘Get yourself warm and help yourself to a drink.’
Jude caught the blanket with a slow, confident smile, the firelight flickering in his glasses. ‘Thanks, I’ll gladly take you up on that.’
Rita noticed Teo’s gaze flicked to Jude, a slow, deliberate glance that lingered just a beat too long before he looked away. The handsome Spaniard pretended to be focused on the fire, but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise. She felt a naughty little thrill that the evening was already proving more interesting than she’d dared hope.
Zenya sat cross-legged on her blanket, a glow stick looped around her wrist.
‘OK, you lovely lot. Let’s do a check-in. Nothing heavy. Just say something silly or true or both. One small thing the moon should know about you tonight.’
She nodded at Michael first.
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Christ, really! OK…’ He laughed. ‘The moon should know I once cried duringPaddington 2and blamed it on hay fever. Will that do?’
‘Good, good,’ Zenya encouraged. ‘We are very bear-themed tonight, aren’t we, but keep them coming.’
Lola followed. ‘I keep googling “how to tell if you’re going through a spiritual awakening” but all the quizzes say I’m just dehydrated.’
Paul raised a hand as if in school. ‘I have fourteen unfinished tracks, am father to a kid I hardly ever see and make a mean lasagne.’
Emily, her mousy brown hair pushed back with a bright flowery headband, deadpanned, ‘I have killed seven housemates, I mean houseplants, in as many weeks. I was dating a narcissist and I’m not ready to talk about it yet.’
Annie chipped in. ‘I was once on a first date and accidentally set fire to a napkin while trying to be seductive with a candle. Took his whole beard off. I never saw him again.’
