Teo blinked, surprised, but didn’t resist. Beneath the dark hair and worried eyes, she saw Archie. Not just in the sharp angle of his jaw or the shape of his mouth, but in the way his eyes searched hers and the quiet strength he didn’t know he had.
It hit her all at once, a thud of grief and wonder in her chest.Archie was gone. But Teo was here. And somehow, impossibly, both of them were looking back at her.
‘Don’t get me wrong with mymamáand myabuela, I’ve always felt amazingly loved but also like a mistake. But being here, in the place where my father lived and breathed and doing what I love to do. Maybe I’m not.’
Rita reached for his hand. ‘I don’t think you realise quite how much you have supported me, and I also think you’re exactly where you’re meant to be now. You’ve never been on your own. OK?’ Rita looked directly into his eyes. ‘And you’re not on your own, now. OK?’
Teo looked away, blinking hard, his jaw tightening as he fought for composure. But he didn’t let go of her hand. Squeezed it as if his life depended on it.
‘OK.’ His voice was barely a whisper but then he began nodding furiously. ‘OK.’
FORTY-FIVE
In the hazy blush of an August morning, the birds were having a right old singalong. They’d been at it since 4.30 a.m. when Rita had got up to have a pee, after tossing and turning in bed until eventually getting up at 5.30. Since the guests had left, she’d learned to embrace this time, when she knew she had an hour to herself to sit and have a cup of tea, go for a little walk, have some breakfast, and just breathe. Once the animals were fed, she would either go up to the Singing Tree or occasionally drive up to Seahaven Point and sit onherbench, just to watch the ebb and flow of the ocean on her favourite beach, where she would try to reset her heart and her constantly racing mind.
With Carmen on her way back to Seville, Rita felt she could relax again. It had been lovely to see how Teo interacted with his mother; they clearly had a strong bond. And despite the fact Archie had kept such a humongous secret from her, she felt so sad for him that he had not been able to meet the wonderful child they had created. But it had been Carmen’s decision to keep her boy a secret and she had to respect the woman’s reasons for that too. And if tragedy hadn’t struck, the meeting would have taken place. And who knows, they could all have been one big happy blended family.
But the big black cloud of having to talk to Jago still hung over her. Part of her didn’t want to face anything. Let the will hang in the ether. If Archie was leaving money to Teo then OK, she got it. She could see why Thom would be angry about this; but how would he have known in the first place? And did he know about the mystery brother, too? There were so many unanswered questions, and she felt that only one man knew all the answers.
Feeling like a healthy breakfast was required, she made her way to the vegetable garden in search of any remaining strawberries. Creeping past Zenya’s tent, her footsteps muffled by dew-kissed grass, the air hummed with half-asleep bees and the scent of warm apples.
Zenya, who could hear a worm turn in the soil, responded instantly to the faint crunch of Rita’s footstep; her tent zip whipped down and her head emerged, a long braid over one shoulder, yawning wildly.
‘Oh. Hi, Rita.’
‘Sorry, so sorry to disturb you. I just wondered if there were any strawberries left.’
‘I can do better than that.’ The pretty hippy whipped back inside her tent, then appeared holding a basket covered with a tea cloth.
‘I come bearing carbs.’ She lifted the cloth as if it were a metal cloche. ‘Spelt and caraway. Good for your stomach. A Betty’s Tearoom special.’
Rita beamed. ‘Oh, sod being healthy, you’re a saint. Do you have any butter?’
‘No, but the Snack Shack fridge does.’
With the goats and chickens fed and Henry sniffing around nearby, the pair sat on fold-up chairs at the end of the orchard, taking in the view and munching on the rolls, butter and
homemade raspberry jam, a fresh flask of coffee at their side.
‘It really is just so idyllic here,’ Zenya crooned. ‘I pinch myself every day. Thank you so much for believing in me.’
Rita smiled. ‘I never had a doubt.’
‘Even when I crawled out looking like some kind of neolithic woman making my nettle tea the day you met me.’
‘That made you even more employable.’
They both laughed.
‘I can’t believe I missed the goats being born, oh my God they are so sweet… and I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.’
‘Don’t be silly, I’m glad you have a life outside of here. We really must christen them.’
‘Ha, yes.’ Zenya smirked. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. Something suitably nonsensical, like Billy Idol or Vincent van Goat.’
Rita shrieked. ‘Oh my God. Genius! Billy and Vince for short, that’s it… well done.’
Zenya eyed Rita for a moment, then poured them both a top-up from the flask. ‘So, how are you feeling about the retreat? Now everyone’s gone, I mean.’
