‘You’re up early, Sen.’ Rita took another cautious sip of water. ‘Hang on a sec, darling.’ She turned the shower off.
‘Busy, busy, you know what this time of year’s like,’ her daughter trilled. ‘Anyway… you know we’ve got the June wedding coming up?’
‘How could I forget.’ Rita sighed and lay back on the bed.
‘Mum, are you all right?’
‘Yes, darling. It’s just early and…’
But before Rita could mention her dodgy stomach, Sennen continued. ‘So! The bride called last night. She wanted to know if they could rent all five yurts for a week from June the third. The day before the wedding. I think you said there’s no retreat on, so it’d be a great little earner for you.’
Rita looked to her nails that were desperately in need of a manicure, and yawned loudly.
‘Yes, the main summer retreat’s in July this year, so that’s fine. We’ve had a few open bookings for June, but I don’t think the first week’s taken. Tell them to book quickly if they do want to go ahead.’
‘Will do! Love you, Mum. And cheer up, will you? Gotta dash. Bye!’
The moment the call ended, Rita pressed a hand to her stomach. Still… off. Her breasts were tender. Her head foggy. Maybe a period was going to show itself? Hard to tell as her cycle had been all over the place for months.
She sat up and rang Kelly, who answered with a groan. ‘Jesus, Reet, it’s the middle of the night. Hang on.’
There was shuffling, then… ‘Listen.’
A monster snore rattled down the line. Rita snorted.
Kelly sniggered. ‘Seriously! This is what I have to live with. A warthog with sinusitis would make less noise. Anyway, you OK?’
‘Not really. I’m not feeling great. Just wanted to check, have you ever felt sick at all in your perimenopause madness?’
Kelly went quiet for a second before her tone shifted. ‘You don’t think you’re up the duff, do you, Reet?’
Rita froze. ‘Stop. No. Don’t say that. It’s impossible. I’m too old anyway.’
Kelly laughed. ‘If you’re still bleeding, you’re still breeding, but I very much doubt it, too. You are careful, aren’t you?’
‘Erm. Yes. Kind of.’
Rita thought back to the wild Valentine’s morning of sex with Jago. Condom on, then off and… it was passionate! Throughout the seven months they had been sleeping together, theyhadbeen careful to a degree, but she hadn’t had a proper period for months, and the risk of getting pregnant was never at the forefront of her mind now, unlike when she had been in her twenties or thirties.
‘It’s probably something you’ve eaten.’ Kelly sniffed.
‘Hmm. I did have a spicy biryani last night.’
‘That would do it, but get a test, anyway, Reet. Or go to the doctor. And if you’renotpregnant, get yourself on the HRT; it’ll stop you being such a moody cow and might even sort those raging hormones out once and for all.’
‘Oh God. What if I am, Kel? What the hell if I am?’
‘Then we deal with it, like we’ve dealt with everything else for the past thirty-five years we’ve been mates. Right, I need to get up; the salon won’t open itself. Call me once you’ve done it, OK?’
Rita hung up and drank her water down in one. She couldn’t be. Could she? A baby. Ababy.
It was hard enough juggling grown-up kids, goats, chickens, and a constant stream of retreat guests, never mind adding another tiny human into the chaos.
She checked her watch. As Kelly had said, the chance of her being pregnant was slim. There was no way she was buying a pregnancy test from Blackburn’s at the harbour. Not without her fullLine of Dutydisguise. She wasn’t risking the Seahaven Bay Facebook Gossip Group exploding by lunchtime. She’d feed the animals, then call the doctor. Her gaze drifted to the photos on her dressing table. Her heart warmed at the twins on their first day of school. Then it started to bang in her chest at the sight of her mum and dad on her wedding day. She touched her stomach again. Her mother: late forties, years of trying, then Rita had arrived.Shit!Of course it was possible!
She sighed deeply. She had just got her life in order; she wasn’t ready for another huge life change. But amidst the nausea and the fear, was that another feeling too? A tiny flicker of excitement?
By seven thirty a.m., the Cosy Café was already rich with the scent of fresh bread and citrus when Rita walked in, covered in bits of straw from cleaning out the chicken coop. She placed a basket of fresh eggs on the long wooden counter, where Zenya was humming softly as she laid out bowls of berries and warm pastries. The gentle April light glinted off the chunky plait draped over the woman’s shoulder.
