Kelly guffawed. ‘If any of it involves getting naked with Jago Jenken from Hawthorn Acre then I’m in.’
‘Kel! Who’s being pervy now! You only met him the once, when his tractor careered through the back field, didn’t you?’
Kelly laughed. ‘Once met, never forgotten, that stud.’
Despite the long-standing Jory–Jenken tension, Rita had toadmit that the few times their paths had crossed, there had been something about the neighbouring farmer: a wicked sort of charm she used to ogle from afar without it ever feeling like she was misbehaving.
Rita laughed back. ‘Don’t let your Ron hear you say that.’
‘He wouldn’t even notice. He’s getting on my wick at the moment. In fact, I was thinking I may come down for Easter if you don’t mind. On my tod.’
‘Sennen and Alex may be coming then, too, so yes, the more the merrier.’
‘Perfect. My Dylan is on manoeuvres. He’s not even allowed to tell me where at the moment. So, I’d love to get out of London for a break.’
‘And Kel, I know it might sound mad to you, but I need to try something. The farm’s not going to run itself, and the finances are… well, they’re a bit of a mess. I don’t want to sell it. I can’t.’
‘So, what are you waiting for, Gwyneth Paltrow?’ Kelly laughed. ‘You’d better get down that work shed and start whittling a new sign for this retreat of yours.’
Rita ended the call and slowly shook her head. Dear Kelly was practical, sharp, and allergic to nonsense. That was why she loved her. But it had been a long time since she had felt even a tiny flicker of enthusiasm about anything. The retreat idea had planted itself in her like a seed, and for the first time since the funeral, she wasn’t just surviving the day. She was imagining something beyond it.
EIGHT
The next morning, Rita woke with purpose. Goats and chickens fed and Henry snoring at her feet, by 8 a.m. she’d made a strong coffee, flipped open her laptop, and sat at the kitchen table ready to start drafting a business plan. It was time to stop drifting. Time to make something of Seahaven Farm before it slipped through her fingers.
With a grimace she checked the balances of the various outstanding credit cards, took a huge slug of coffee and had barely written the wordsWellness Retreat – Draft Ideaswhen there was a light tap at the door.
Zenya stood on the step, smiling politely, as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world. ‘Morning, Rita. Would it be terribly rude to ask for a shower and a proper cup of tea right now?’
Rita nodded her inside. ‘Come on in. I’ll pop the kettle back on.’
Zenya followed her into the kitchen, glancing at the laptop. ‘You’re at it early.’
Rita hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’ve had an idea. A sort of wellness retreat. Using the barn and the High Meadow where you are. Obviously the barn will need a good scrub and clear-out and I’ll have to buy stuff. Yoga mats, cushions et cetera. Maybea gong. Plus get in staff for all the, you know, woo-woo stuff.’
Zenya’s mouth curved into a slow smile. ‘Woo-woo stuff, eh.’ She sat down at the table.
‘Well…’ Zenya tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I major in all kinds of weirdness, so would of course be up for an interview.’
Rita laughed before she could stop herself. ‘Well, how about now? I guess it doesn’t hurt to get things moving!’
Zenya shrugged lightly. ‘I like helping people find their way back to themselves. And this place…’ She glanced towards the window, where morning sunlight spilled across the fields. ‘You already know what I think of it here.’
Rita folded her arms, pretending to think it over, though her heart had already jumped ahead of her. ‘All right, then. What can you offer, Ms… er…’
‘Just Zenya. And energy work. Herbals. Meditation. Bit of sound healing,’ she replied matter-of-factly, taking the mug Rita offered. ‘I also make an excellent lemon balm tea and for the record, I’m actually a pretty good cook.’
Rita raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you have a gong?’
‘Not yet.’ Zenya’s eyes gleamed. ‘But I know exactly where we can get you one.’
‘Right. Let’s do this properly. First question. What does the word “retreat” conjure up for you?’
Zenya’s expression softened. ‘A soft place to land. And maybe a gentle shove in the right direction when you’re ready to learn about yourself.’
Rita stuck her bottom lip out. ‘That’s lovely. I may have to use that for my website, if you don’t mind.’
‘It’ll cost ya.’ Zenya grinned.
