She’d also decided that during the quieter weeks, when the official retreats weren’t running, the yurts could be rented out separately. That way, a steady trickle of income would keep flowing in during down times, and her team would be kept happily busy all year round.
Rita had to admit to feeling a flush of pride at what they’d accomplished. She, along with her amazing staff, had come a long way. Teo, her live-in Spanish yogi and accidental DIY virtuoso, had been a marvel, as had Zenya, her radiant self-proclaimed ‘spiritual goddess and IT expert’ and Stan, herdependable part-time farmhand. Between them – and Jago, she thought, with a pang of sadness, remembering how energetically he had had thrown himself into helping her every step of the way – they had managed miracles on a shoestring budget, even harnessing the sun with solar panels to keep her dreams of sustainability alive.
There had been births and deaths in her animal kingdom. She’d welcomed kid brothers, Vincent van Goat (Vinny) and Billy Idol (Billy) to the goat herd, and dealt with the sad demise of Nigel the cockerel.
Rita glanced down fondly at Henry, her elderly Labrador, before noticing he looked a bit under par. ‘It’s OK, boy.’ She crouched down beside him, coaxing him gently towards his food bowl, one back leg dragging in a stubborn limp that made her stomach tighten with worry. She was just running a steadying hand along his flank, murmuring further reassurance, when her mobile buzzed. She answered and her best mate’s bright Cockney twang burst through. ‘Reet. It’s me. What’s happening down there, then, I wantallthe gossip?’
An automatic smile pulled at Rita’s lips hearing her friend’s voice before she glanced down at Henry again. ‘Henry’s not recovering as quickly as I thought he would after his joint op,’ Rita said, frowning. ‘Maybehewas too old to have it done.’
‘Aw, bless him,’ said Kelly. ‘Try not to worry; the vet said he would be fine, didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, it’s only been a few days, I guess.’ The old dog licked her hand slowly as if in agreement.
‘And how about the petulant Poldark; has he returned yet?’
Rita stood up and sighed deeply. ‘No. I’ve reached out but he still wants space. It’s been a month, now. It’s ridiculous.’
‘Space! Bloody men! Launch him to the moon if you have to. They always come scuttling back the minute you stop waiting by the phone or they need their balls emptying.’
Rita smirked as she flicked on the kettle. ‘I still can’t believe I called him Archie.’
‘Well, you did. After twenty-five years of marriage. It was going to slip out at least once, surely?’ Kelly sniffed. ‘I wish my old man would call me something different. Might spice things up a bit. The closest he gets to excitement these days is finishing his Wordle in two goes.’
Rita laughed loudly. ‘What are you like! I know it got intense quickly with Jago, but I do love him, Kel.’
‘And he you, or he wouldn’t be acting like a teenager. Wasn’t it the great bard himself who said,the course of true love never did run smooth? He’ll be back, wait and see. And if not, head to the next young farmers’ singles night. Saying that, if there is such a thing, I’m coming too!’ Rita shook her head and smiled as Kelly continued. ‘So, what else is going on? The twins all right? Teo still shagging Jude? Hilda still breathing?’
‘Teo and Jude are talking of moving in together. My Sennen’s buried in a plethora of wedding organisation, and Thom has actually met someone, and it sounds quite serious.’
‘Ooh, a first for your bachelor boy,’ Kelly laughed. ‘As long as he’s still keeping in touch, is he?’
‘Yes. Calls me at least once a month now.’
‘Aw, that’s nice. Can’t say the same for my Dylan. Passed his helicopter training and I’m still not allowed to know where in the world he is.’
Rita put her handset onto speaker, placed it on the table, and made herself a tea. ‘That’s tough.’
‘He has leave in the summer. I cannot wait to squeeze him.’
A knock at the door made Rita jump. She glanced out of the window to see her ex-mother-in-law dressed head to toe in black. Picking up her phone again, she smiled. ‘And yep, talk of the devil, Hilda is here and very much alive.’
Kelly guffawed. ‘Has the life expectancy of a giant tortoise, that one.’
Rita’s shoulders shook. ‘More like a bearded dragon. Anyway, better go. Love you, mate. Catch up soon.’
Hilda waltzed in as if she owned the place, a lit cigarette perched between her fingers. Clocking Rita’s raised eyebrows, she nibbed it with her fingers and tucked the butt neatly into her handbag pocket.
She took a seat at the long kitchen table, and ran a hand through her neat grey bob.
‘Cuppa?’ Rita nodded towards the kettle.
Hilda shook her head. ‘No, thanks. Can’t be long, off to a funeral with Eric. Second one this week,’ she added with glee.
‘Still going well with him, then, I take it?’ Rita enquired, no longer fazed by the old woman’s death obsession and well over her shock when she had found out that the octogenarian’s ‘companion’ was twenty years her junior.
Hilda smirked. ‘What’s not to like about a man who’s got a hot tub and a cold fridge, full of champagne.’
Rita smiled. ‘You never slow down, do you?’
