The chaos subsided for a moment as the hens settled into their feeding frenzy. Rita used the lull to observe each of them and smiled.
A breeze rattled the coop, sending a flurry of straw into her hair. She smoothed it down and looked out over the orchard beyond, grey clouds hanging heavy over the fields. A swirl of smoke from the cauldron in which Zenya chose to make her nettle tea drifted into the air.
She smiled as she reached the goat pen. Camilla, her favourite and now decidedly less sprightly herd member, wandered about the pen with a dignified sort of caution. Her white fur and slightly bent horns gave her the look of a wise matriarch, the queen of the herd.
Billy Idol and Vincent van Goat, the new boys and Camilla’s probable last offspring, had slotted in surprisingly well. Rita’s eyes softened at the memory of the night Jago’s steady hands had delivered them both, a sudden, bittersweet pang stirring in her chest.
Last night, after she’d had a drink, she had felt a strange, almost hollow absence, missing how she used to sneak into his bed after a long, exhausting day on the farm. It made her realise how familiar and comforting that routine had been. In the cold light of day, and feeling depressed after drinking too much, Rita realised that Hilda’s comment had unnerved her. What if he did want to play boules with Elodie and not her?
‘Calm down, Rita,’ she said aloud, taking a long, exaggerated breath in a futile attempt to quieten her restless thoughts. It didn’t work. Jago had been adamant that he would never see Elodie again, and shehadto trust him. Had to believe that on June the fourth it would be like a scene from a romantic comedy, the pair of them realising how meant-to-be they were and finally getting their happily ever after.
What they were doing seemed like the grown-up thing to do. She did love Jago, but she also loved the idea that a little absence might make the heart grow fonder for both of them. His plan was genius, really; she just needed to keep reminding herself of that.
She’d decided she would do her best to stay away from Hawthorn Acre. There was no reason to see him. Anything that needed doing around the farm could be managed perfectly well by Stan, Teo and Zenya. For now, she needed Jago out of sight and out of mind, at least for a while, so they could both find some clarity about what they actually wanted. A smile crept across her lips as her thoughts drifted to happier times with him. She pictured his face and imagined how he’d tease her if he knew she was getting all whimsical among the goats and chickens. Meanwhile, in true man fashion, he was probably just milking the cows, his mind already on whatever else needed doing around the farm that day.
Brushing straw from her jeans, and feeling slightly brighter, she picked the egg basket up from the floor and wandered back to the farmhouse to see what chaos her own offspring were causing.
Thom came downstairs to find Sennen at the kitchen table in a flood of tears.
‘Oi, hey.’ He slid into the seat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Talk to me, sis. What’s wrong?’
Sennen sniffled, blinking back tears. ‘It’s Rosecliff Barns… They’ve let me down for my first summer wedding there, and now, it’s such short notice and…’ She gulped. ‘And Chloe, that’s the woman I’m dealing with, well, she couldn’t even tell me to my face yesterday, just cowardly sent me an email. I don’t know what to do.’ Sennen started wailing again.
It hurt Thom to see his sister like this. The ‘twin thing’, as they’d always called it. Feeling the same things, saying the same things, sometimes even acting the same way.
‘Chloe? You don’t mean Chloe Brimble, by any chance?’
Sennen raised her eyebrows. ‘You know her?’
‘Yeah, the infamous Brimbles.’ Thom stood to make himself a coffee. ‘She worked at the solicitors’ who handled Dad’s will.’
Sennen stared at him. ‘That Chloe?’
‘The very same. Jago pushed her into doing something she knew was wrong – in Mum’s favour, I might add – and she lost her job over it. Though don’t feel too sorry for her. She did take a cash bribe.’
Sennen frowned. ‘I know all that now. I just didn’t realise it was the same Chloe. That bloody will business, I don’t get why Dad didn’t just come clean to Mum that Teo was his son and that he wanted to leave him some money. Then Jago wouldn’t have had to mess with the will and hide it from her.’
Thom sighed. ‘Jago thought he was doing right by Dad. And Dad thought he was protecting Mum. Classic male logic.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘Thankfully, Mum was completely fine about it in the end.’
Sennen shook her head. ‘Yes, but it’s all still a mess from every angle…’
Thom leaned back, eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘I agree. But, you know… she’s quite hot for a tattooed hillbilly. Chloe, I mean.’
Sennen’s mouth flew open. ‘Thomas!’
He threw his hands up, laughing. ‘Relax! I’m just saying. And come on, let’s think, there must be a way to sort this.’
Sennen rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide a little grin. Thom’s grin broadened, satisfied he’d lightened the mood.
Rita pushed open the door and put her boots next to the Aga. A curled-up Henry didn’t stir from his bed. ‘What’s so funny?’ She then noticed Sennen’s tear-stained face. ‘Oh my God, darling, what’s the matter?’
‘I’ve told her there will be a solution,’ Thom replied coolly, sipping from a black coffee without looking up from his phone. ‘Anyway, have you got any bacon? I’m in need of one of Mumsie Jory’s special fry-ups.’
Rita washed her hands and moved to the kitchen table. ‘Let’s sort your sister out first, shall we?’ She knelt beside Sennen, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. ‘Take a deep breath. Your brother’s right. Whatever it is, there’s always a way.’
Thom stepped in. ‘Rosecliff Barns have pulled the plug on the wedding she’s been planning.’
He began to clatter about in the cupboard for a frying pan.
