She was a bundle of nerves, pacing slightly, sipping a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, and imagining all the possible conversations she’d have to have.
She was just about to glance for the fifteenth time when the front door creaked open. Hilda stepped in, dressed all in black, her eagle eyes immediately scanning the kitchen and landing on Rita’s twitchy face.
‘Oh, hello, Rita.’ Hilda plonked herself down. ‘How are you? How are the new woo-woo recruits?’
Rita panicked. She threw the tea towel she’d been holding toward the sink, and the test tumbled straight in alongside a plastic container of defrosting vegetable casserole, landing face down with a wet littleplop.
‘I’m… fine,’ she stammered. ‘Just tidying up, about to do a food order online… busy! Busy, you know!’ Her voice sounded strangled.
Hilda raised an eyebrow. ‘Rita, are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Yes, yes. You know how it is when a retreat is underway. I enjoy it, but…’
Hilda’s eyes softened slightly. ‘I’m off to a funeral, then off on holiday. Can you keep an eye on the annexe, please? With Teo already down with Jude, it’s so inconvenient. I’ve got a couple of Lovehoney deliveries coming and don’t want them left outside.’
Rita blinked as she pictured the vibrators and lacy underwear Lovehoney might be delivering. Her mother-in-law’s casual tone made it feel like she’d just asked about the milk. ‘Yes… yes, of course,’ Rita said, forcing calm, even as her brain did somersaults of disbelief and a flicker of hope she’d still have the same vim and vigour inhereighties.
‘What time’s the funeral?’ Rita hoped it was within the next thirty seconds.
‘You sound like my mother used to.’ Hilda smirked. ‘I’ve barely arrived and here’s your hat, here’s your coat, what’s your hurry? But I get it. You’ve got work to do.’
Hilda paused, the tiniest twinkle appearing in her age-faded eyes. ‘Just in case you want to know where Eric and I will be… South America. A light little holiday. You know, hiking Machu Picchu in matching neon outfits, tangoing until we can’t feel our feet in Buenos Aires, ziplining through the rainforestwhile screaming like lunatics, attempting to cook feijoada in Rio without setting the kitchen on fire… the usual.’
Rita laughed, but her gaze kept flicking to the sink. She wanted to snatch the test up, right now and discover her fate.
Hilda tilted her head, that knowing look creeping back into her eyes. Rita breathed deeply.She knows something’s up. She always knows.
‘I’ll message you when I get there.’ Hilda turned to leave, then paused. ‘Sennen tells me there’s going to be a wedding here in June too. Madness, I say. Can’t you just concentrate on one thing at a time, not fifty?’
‘It’s hardly fifty, Hilda,’ Rita said, trying not to sound too defensive.
Hilda gave her a knowing look, the sort that warmed you and unnerved you all at once. ‘I get it, I’d have done anything for my boy Archie too.’ She paused, wistful for a second. ‘I still ache when I think about that fateful day he was taken from us.’
Rita’s throat tightened. ‘I hardly ever ask how you are. I’m sorry for that.’
Hilda waved her off. ‘Don’t. And you don’t have to. But are you sure you’re OK? You’re not looking so good… like the bags under your eyes could do with a holiday of their own!’
‘Yes, yes,’ Rita said quickly, forcing a smile. ‘Honestly… it’s you who says keeping busy is good for the mind, body and soul.’
Hilda’s eyes twinkled for the briefest moment. ‘Well, make sure it’s not all work and no play. I always say to my Eric… it’s never too late for a surprise or two, however old you are.’
And just like that, she was gone, the door clanging shut behind her.
Rita’s forehead wrinkled. Surely she couldn’t tell, too? And when had the old girl’s toyboy been escalated to ‘myEric’? she wondered. Then, glancing down at the kitchen counter, atthe wet little test lurking in the sink, she swallowed hard and reached for it.
ELEVEN
The ocean at the Seahaven Bay surf beach whispered against the shore, rhythmic and steady. Rita had always thought that night-time waves sounded gentler, less harsh, and since the retreat had opened, being on the beach after dark had become one of her favourite escapes. Sometimes she would just drive down and sit in the car park with the windows open, letting the sound of the waves hypnotise her and clear her mind of anything stressful.
As Rita pulled into the car park, with windows open, she could see head torches bobbing and hear distant laughter at what she assumed were minor stumbles in the sand, and assumed this was Teo and the retreat guests he had driven down in the Land Rover. She could make out Zenya sitting patiently by the fire pit she had dug, surrounded by scattered blankets and flasks of nettle tea. She was just about to turn off the engine when her headlights caught Cass walking in the opposite direction, hands shoved deep in his pockets. She turned off the ignition, quickly messaged Zenya to say get started without them, and got out, walking towards him.
Her voice was low and gentle. ‘Cass, hey.’
The young man looked back. ‘Rita. I just needed a minute. I…’
‘Sure.’ Rita started to turn away, but something made her stop. She could see the weight he carried in the way he held himself, the tense shoulders, the hesitant step, the way his gaze kept drifting to the waves as if the ocean could somehow swallow the ache. She felt suddenly concerned.
‘Mind if I walk with you?’ she asked, taking a careful step closer.
