‘She adored Ralph; it must’ve broken her. That’s why she’s so bitter. And why she’s trying to keep me away from you, too.’
Jago nodded. ‘I’d kind of hoped that now Archie and my father have passed, she might be able to forgive.’
‘Yes.’ Rita’s voice was gentle. ‘You were the innocent party in all of this.’
‘And we both share a certain disdain for my mother.’ Jago managed a smile.
Rita looked out to the horizon, where the sky was deepening to a bruised mauve and the sun hung low like a deep orange yolk, slipping slowly into the sea. She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.‘“‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.”I love that poem. Emily Dickinson. Clung to it, after Archie died. I don’t know why… it just… stayed with me. It’s a powerful reflection on the quiet, enduring nature of hope, even through life’s darkest and most turbulent moments.’
Jago said quietly, ‘That’s beautiful.’
There was a long pause. The silence between them felt heavier until she took a minute to look right at Jago’s face, like really look at it. Archie hadn’t been lucky enough to be in the queue where dimples were given out, but he’d had the same lopsided smile as the striking man in front of her.
‘Your colouring, your eyes…’ she let slip. ‘No wonder I…’ Rita paused. They held their gaze for a second until Jago suddenly jumped up and stretched, a tired smile tugging at his lips.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Let’s go inside before we get bitten to death by mosquitos.’
He led her into the kitchen of the old farmhouse, where rustic met modern in a way that felt effortlessly cool. Reclaimed wood shelves were lined with artisan jars and sleek black matte cookware, while industrial pendant lights hung low over a polished marble island. A smart coffee machine sat ready beside a neat stack of vinyl records leaning casually against the wall. The walls were painted a calming slate grey, softened by a few pots of fresh herbs on the windowsill.
Jago looked around the space proudly. ‘Since Mum moved into the care home, I’ve been doing a bit of sprucing up. Thought it was time this place felt like mine, you know? Got rid of the clutter, added a few bits and pieces here and there. Figured if I’m going tobe cooking for myself, might as well do it somewhere I actually like.’
‘It’s really funky, I love it. I need to get round to doing our… I mean, my place now the money is coming in.’
‘Pizza and garlic bread OK?’ He grinned. ‘Only the best for Mrs Jory.’
‘Ah. The classic modern man’s cordon bleu kitchen with a take-out menu.’
Forgetting the enormity of what she had come here for, Rita laughed. Jago walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Sauvignon. ‘A white wine for the lady?’
‘Yes, I’m going to need a drink for this next bit, aren’t I?’
Jago opened a second bottle of wine, poured and took a huge slurp of his. ‘We got close. Quietly. Behind Hilda’s back. Archie and I… we had a bond. Stronger than most would expect, given what had happened. Or maybe because of it… who knows? If ever you didn’t know where Archie was, Rita, you could be sure he was with me. Always in secret, though. We kept it quiet, too many eyes, too many questions. We fished a lot, on the beach. Stupidly early and late into some evenings mostly so as not to encroach on farming time. We used to chat about everything and nothing.’ His voice cracked slightly. He looked across the table, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. ‘We trusted each other. More than anyone else. And when things got messy, when Teo came on the scene, well, that’s when Archie asked me to do something that I’m now so sorry for, as it has caused you so much pain.’
‘The will.’ Rita took a drink and leaned in, heart pounding.
The wine had loosened Jago’s tongue. ‘It was so strange that we had the conversation just weeks before he died about me taking it. It all seems so ridiculous now. He said jokingly that if ever anything happened to him before he had told you about Teo that I must take the will and destroy it. He was going to tell you. Hereally was. But he wanted to meet the lad and his mother first. I’m not sure why. Maybe to suss them out, maybe to see if he thought they would fit into the Jory fold. I don’t know.’
He swallowed hard, the weight of that secret pressing down. ‘I’ve carried that secret, too, alongside all the others. But there was one part of this wish that I didn’t do…’
Her heart thudded, a knot twisting deep inside.
‘I took it. But I didn’t destroy it, and now I know that you know about Teo, I’m so glad I didn’t. As there will be no secrets now and Thom will be able to rest and hopefully stop being so damn nasty to you. Teo told me.’
‘Shit, so you’re in cahoots with Teo too?’
‘Rita, please believe there’s not a huge conspiracy against you. We love you.’ Startled at his own comment, Jago suddenly sat upright. ‘Oh, bugger, I forgot to put the pizza and garlic bread in.’
Rita gave a tipsy laugh. ‘Well, that explains why I’m feeling the way I am. All this wine on an empty stomach. We’ll be legless before the mozzarella even melts. I’m not feeling that hungry now to be honest; I just need to know everything. So, what about the electronic copy? How on earth did you manage that?’
Jago gave a dry laugh. ‘You know what those Brimbles are like. Chloe being one, I knew she’d take a cash bribe. She was new, green as spring grass. I told her to say she hadn’t got her head around the system yet and had deleted it in complete error. Poor thing looked like she was going to faint, but I made sure she knew exactly how to get rid of it.’
Rita stared at the ground. ‘Is that illegal?’
‘Immoral, too,’ Jago agreed. ‘I hear she has lost her job now which I do feel a bit guilty about. But I did it for you, Rita. You and Archie. All of it. And I’d do it again.’
Jago scooped her into his arms without asking, the wine making everything feel soft edged and slow. Rita didn’t resist. He lifted her as if she were a feather and carried her through to the lounge, her head resting lightly against his chest.
The room opened out into a wide, warm space, goldenlamplight making for a cosy feel. A huge bay window looked down over his garden, where fairy lights glowed in tangled hedges and wound around the old apple tree. Beyond, the sea shimmered under an almost full moon so bright it looked painted onto the darkened sky.
