Rita scrolled through the feed. Ten o’clock on a Thursday night. A figure appeared behind the annexe, lingering, then moving toward the barn. They had not rung the bell, and it was not clear if they were carrying parcels. Their scarf was pulled up high, just as Hilda had said.
‘Hmm. Deliveries happen at all hours nowadays, but can you make sure the sensor light is working out the back there, please?’
‘Sure, sure.’ Teo nodded. ‘I head out now and I no stay for dinner if OK, as I want to get home to Jude. Or do you want me to say here if you worried?’
‘Darling Teo, you’ve had a long day already; of course, please go to him. I’m not worried at all. I’m sure it was the delivery person, who probably parked up near the barn.’
Feeling that she was not in the mood to escape into her book just yet, Rita grabbed her coat and wandered down to the Cosy Café.
‘Hey.’ Zenya looked up from stirring a huge pot of vegetable soup. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Was sick earlier but aside from that, I am fine. But Jago can’t know,’ Rita said adamantly, settling at the counter. ‘In fact, nobody can know. I’ve told Kel, and that’s where it stops. For now, anyway.’ Rita was too tired to even convey the long sorry story of Elodie.
Zenya’s forehead creased. ‘Not even the twins?’
‘No. Thom is close to Jago now, and if I do decide to… well… I won’t start showing for a while. I’ve got some great flowing dresses and tops to keep me hidden for a few months.’ Rita poured herself a glass of water, her fingers lingering on the cool glass. ‘I’m sorry to put this on you… having to keep a secret and everything.’
Zenya’s eyes softened. ‘So… you’re not sure yet, then?’ she asked gently, as if giving Rita permission to admit it. ‘That’s OK, you know. You don’t have to decide right away. It’s early days. You can take your time, figure out what’s right for you.’
Rita swallowed, nodding faintly.
‘Like I said, you haven’t told me anything.’ Zenya’s eyes were soft but knowing. ‘I grew up in care, Rita. You wouldn’t want to know the kinds of secrets I was asked to keep… and I’ve seen enough to know that sometimes the people we trust most can hurt us.’
‘Oh, Zenya…’
‘Pity not required.’ Her voice lilted, gentle but firm. ‘Just look at me now. I am happy, and a lot of that is because of the choices I made, and the things’ – she paused and took a sharp intake of breath – ‘I had to let go of. You’ll get there, too, in your own time.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and pulled a battered silver tin from a cupboard. ‘Right. Come on, I think it’s time for you to pick an angel card?’
Rita closed her eyes and let the cards slip through her hands, allowing one to choose her. ‘Divine timing?’ Rita screwed up her nose.
Zenya, who knew most of the cards by heart, leaned closer and whispered, ‘Your future is uncertain, but lifeismost of the time so just trust the flow and embrace the miracles coming your way.’ Rita couldn’t tell if Zenya had genuinely read something in the cards or was just making it up as she went along, but the words still managed to tug at something fragile inside her. She blew out a deep breath. It was all very well trusting the universe and going with the flow, but at this moment she felt like she trusted nobody.
Rita slid off her stool. ‘I told Teo to go home; are you OK doing dinner for the troops on your own tonight? I’m so knackered.’
‘Of course, it’s only Odette and Priya coming down; the others are heading to the Winking Pilchard.’
‘Oh Lordy.’ Rita smiled. ‘You did make sure all those solar lights were working for their walk back up to High Meadow, didn’t you?’
As she pushed the heavy door to the farmhouse open, Henry greeted her in the hallway with the big brown, soulful, knowing eyes she’d loved for years.
‘Hello, champ.Youstill love your mummy, don’t you?’
Making a fresh cup of peppermint tea, Rita made her way towards the den with the old Labrador padding slowly behind her.
‘Come on, then.’ Rita tapped the sofa next to her. After she half coaxed, half lifted him up, Henry lowered himself beside her and with a weak yap he placed his head gently in her lap, the quiet ritual they had shared for years. Stroking his ears, thumb and forefinger, rubbing the soft velvet at their edges, the way he liked it, she noticed his breathing was slower than usual.
With her heart skipping a beat, Rita put her face to his. ‘It’s OK, old boy, I’ve got you.’
With fingers shaking and the vet’s name hovering on the screen, she suddenly felt his head go heavy on her knees.
‘No. Oh, no. Henry. My darling boy.’ Then rocking him in her arms, pressing her face into his fur, the smell of him, warm, familiar, she began to sob until there were no more tears left inside of her.
Blubbering, her hand moved instinctively to call Jago. Then she stopped herself, and the handset fell to the cushion. She held her beloved pet tight and continued rocking him like a baby, as if somehow just the strength of her love might bring him back. But he’d gone and another great love had become a lasting memory.
Resting one hand on his black and grey flecked head, she closed her eyes. And despite everything, a soft, steady calm suddenly spread through her. Henry had been more Archie’s dog than hers. Her husband’s faithful companion, until the day he had died, and then, as if knowing he had to step up, he had become her protector, her rock. She thought to her beautiful Archie, then to her loving parents. She could hear her dad’s voice after someone he knew had passed on:One goes out, one comes in;that’s life, Rita.
Then she thought of Zenya, whose upbringing had been so rocky, and realised how lucky she had been in her life up to now. She had always felt safe. Had received plentiful love and attention, both of which she had returned in droves to her parents, Archie, Thom and Sennen. A fierce, unconditional and enduring love that held no bounds, even after the death of her beloved husband.
She gently lifted Henry off her lap and placed a blanket over him, his head still poking out as if he were just sleeping. It was getting dark and she didn’t like the thought of him being anywhere on his own tonight. Tomorrow, she would call Stanand her faithful companion could be buried at the end of the orchard alongside Buddy, their other old family Labrador, and Nigel the cockerel.
