‘I reckon she’s been to more services than the actual vicar,’ Sennen quipped, causing the women to shake with laughter.
‘What’s so funny, little lady?’
Rita realised she must have left the front door on the latch, as Hilda pushed her way into the kitchen, sat down next to her granddaughter, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it in hers tightly.
‘You are, Granny.’ Sennen giggled and wriggled her hand free.
‘Oh, am I?’ Hilda raised an eyebrow, gave a dramatic sigh, and sank into the chair opposite Sennen, tapping her pink trainers on the floor.
‘So, whose funeral have you been to lately, then?’ Sennen asked with genuine curiosity.
‘The uncle of Jenken’s ex-wife, actually,’ Hilda announced as if she were delivering a royal decree. ‘Dreadful eulogy. Fantastic buffet. His sister wailed like a banshee throughout and quite frankly ruined “The Lord is My Shepherd”.’
Sennen smirked.
Being used to her mother-in-law’s way of conveying sometimes unwanted information, Rita sighed deeply. ‘I knew already, Hilda. It’s fine.’
Hilda reached for her cigarette packet and lighter. ‘Never trust a bollocking Jenken, I say! Not one of them! Especially when there’s some wanton French tart flouncing around town.’
‘You’re the one who started the whole Jenken–Jory feud,’ Rita snapped, bitterness sharpening her words. Realising Elodiemust be the French reference made her somehow more unnervingly seductive, and Rita hated how much that unsettled her.
Sennen held up her hand. ‘Stop this, both of you.’
Rita stood up, defiant. ‘You gave me your blessing with Jago.’
‘I did. I want you to be happy, Rita, but I also want you to be wise.’
Hilda looked her granddaughter up and down. ‘Come and see me tomorrow, sweetheart. And get some decent food in you, will you? You’re looking that thin your knickers must be holding crisis talks.’
And with that, Hilda pushed herself up and headed out of the kitchen, gripping her handbag, pink trainers squeaking against the stone floor, leaving Sennen shaking her head with astonishment.
‘You’re looking beautiful, darling,’ Rita soothed. ‘And no different to last time I saw you.’
Sennen shook her head. ‘I know she means well. Jago is a good man, Mum.’ Her voice wobbled slightly. ‘Like Dad was.’ She slipped her phone into her pocket and grabbed her tote bag. ‘I’m going to unpack.’
Rita sat back down, reached for her tea, and watched the steam curl and twist like a warning of how quickly life could shift. Since Archie’s passing, she had learned just how fragile and unpredictable life could be. Her thoughts drifted to Jago. After everything, the secrets, the revelations, the tangled family history, was trust even possible?
Hoping it was her instinct and not naivety whispering promises of a future with the man who had brought her such unexpected joy, she took a slow sip of her drink. Damn Hilda Jory for making her doubt his intentions. He was the one who had set a date for their reunion. He surely wouldn’t bother with all that if he weren’t sure?
SIX
The roar of an engine made Rita glance up from chopping onions for tonight’s salsa. She hurriedly washed and dried her hands and opened the door to see the lights of a silver Porsche screeching into the courtyard. Her Thom grinned back at her through the window, with that familiar troublemaking smile of his.
‘Mum!’ All six foot two of handsome first-born twin leaped from the car with his usual effortless confidence.
‘Oh, you’re on your own?’ Rita hid her happiness well at having her son all to herself.
‘Yeah, Poppy couldn’t make it; she sent her apologies.’
Rita smirked. ‘What on earth could be more important than meeting your boyfriend’s mother?’
Thom laughed. ‘Some study she had to finish. And I also only just found out she’s allergic to chickens.’
Rita pushed. ‘She doesn’thaveto get near them, does she?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Leave it, now, please.’ He grabbed four beers and a bunch of forecourt flowers from the passenger seat. ‘For you, Mumsie.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Sennen came charging down the stairs, looking beautiful without a scrap of make-up, hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head, and kitted head to toe in Lululemon.
