He laid her down gently on the vast, soft cream sofa that faced the view. For a moment, he just looked at her, then he kissed her again. Tenderly at first, then deeper. Hungrier. He tugged her shirt free from her jeans with urgent hands, kissing along her jaw, her neck, as if he couldn’t bear another second without her. She kissed him back with the same heat, her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Wanting.
But then, suddenly, ‘No! Stop!’ she gasped. Pushing at his chest, she sat bolt upright, heart hammering. ‘I can’t. I can’t do this. You’re Archie’s brother.’ Tears welled in her eyes as her breath came fast and panicked. ‘It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense. I have to go.’
She staggered to her feet, but Jago caught her gently by the wrist. ‘Rita, wait, please. You’re not thinking straight.’
‘Don’t tell me what I am thinking!’ She pulled away from him. ‘How dare you? How dare you keep something like that from me and then try to make love to me?’
She wiped angrily at her face, swaying slightly. ‘I haven’t drunk like this in so long and now I’m here, and I don’t know what I’m doing, and…’
She leaped up and turned for the door.
‘You’re not driving.’ Jago stood in front of her. ‘Look what happened to Archie.’
Her face crumpled. ‘How could you be so heartless’ – her tears spilling over – ‘to say that. To use that. After everything.’
Jago looked stricken, as if she’d just winded him. His voice cracked. ‘I’m not heartless. I’m… I’m sorry… I just… I can’t lose you, too, Rita. I just can’t.’ His voice lowered and slowed. ‘I can’t lose you because… I think I’m falling in love with you.’
Rita stared at him as though he’d slapped her. ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous!’ And then, without another word, she rushedpast him, through the hallway and out into the darkness, the front door swinging wide behind her.
When she finally got back to the farmhouse, she was too distraught to notice Hilda standing at the annexe window, watching with a look of quiet heartbreak, sadness etched deep into her face, worry clouding her eyes.
FORTY-SEVEN
It was early evening on a Friday, and the harbour buzzed with tourists and locals grabbing a cheeky drink or bite to eat to make the most of the mid-August sunshine. Rita arrived at the Winking Pilchard where the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses immediately relaxed her. Jilly was already there, perched on a bench outside, a cheeky grin spreading across her face the moment she spotted her friend.
‘Well, well, look what the tide dragged in.’
Rita smiled tiredly and slid onto the bench seat beside her. ‘I know, I look rough. I’ve had a lot going on.’
‘Sorry, girl, you look boss, I was only messin’ with youse.’
‘Thanks for meeting at such short notice; I needed human contact. And chips. But definitely not alcohol.’ Rita sighed.
‘Oh, Lordy, I feel a story coming on.’ Jilly signalled to Pete the Pilchard, who ambled over with a roguish sparkle in his eye.
‘So,’ Pete said, raising his eyebrows at Rita. ‘How’s my favourite buxom blonde these days? Still making the poor lads work for it?’
‘If you mean Kelly, she’s still happily married, but dreaming of you regardless, I’m sure.’ Rita didn’t dare confess that that really was the case.
Pete grinned. ‘That’s what I like to hear. You send her my way next time she’s down, she’ll be dreaming all right.’
Rita chuckled, shaking her head. ‘You’re a bad man, Pete Perkins.’
‘Nah, just a man. Now, can I get you two lovely ladies a drink to save you getting off your sweet derrieres?’
As Pete took their order and wandered off, Rita leaned closer to Jilly, lowering her voice.
‘It’s all been kicking off.’
Jilly’s expression softened. ‘Is it on top of you telling me about the will and that Jago is Archie’s brother? I mean, that alone is enough to tip you.’
‘Erm… yes.’
‘It’s OK, girl. I’ve got you.’
Rita took a drink of her sparkling water. ‘The other night, at Jago’s place, it was… intense. We were both a bit drunk; well, I was more than a bit drunk. He kissed me, and it felt like everything cracked open. He picked me up, literally carried me through to the lounge. It was like all the grief, tension and guilt and longing just spilled out. He started to, well you know… and I let him. Iwantedhim. God, I really did.’ Jilly raised her already raised eyebrows but stayed quiet. ‘But then I just snapped. I pushed him off, started crying, said awful things. That he’d betrayed me. That I couldn’t do it. I ran out.’ Rita’s face fell. ‘I’m so mixed up, Jilly. Aside from this, my body’s all over the place, my periods have started vanishing, coming back, then stopping again, so my hormones are like the bloody shipping forecast. I think menopause is creeping up on me too. I’m certainly not ready for that. Everything is just so messy!’
Jilly placed a steadying hand on her arm. ‘You’re grieving. You’re trying to move forward. And your mind and now body are throwing curveballs. Ofcourseit’s messy.’
