As she stood at the door, staring at the lifeless animal, she put a hand to her tummy. Henry and Archie were gone, and the twins might not need her so much anymore, but nothing could stop her from pouring that same unrelenting love into the tiny life growing inside her. Yes, it was going to be hard, terribly hard, but she could do this. Shewoulddo this. She could navigate sleepless nights, endless worry, and everything in between. She could love fiercely again whether it be just her or with Jago by her side.
‘It’s you and me, kid,’ she whispered, leaving the door slightly ajar. Then, blowing a shaky kiss to Henry, she added, ‘Sleep well, my beautiful angel.’
SEVENTEEN
The rain of the day before had cleared the air, leaving the farmhouse unusually still. Rita had had a tearful phone conversation the night before, telling both Sennen and Thom about Henry. Sennen was as distraught as she was, and Thom, as usual, very pragmatic. Sloping down to the kitchen, she paused at Henry’s empty bowls and let out a noisy cry. She had always poured a little of her tea into one of them, a small morning ritual she would have to let go of. Now with tears streaming down her face, she stared at them, metal and empty, reluctant to move them from their usual spot, each one a quiet reminder that her beloved pet wasn’t coming back.
Up at the orchard, Stan scratched his sweating brow and squinted at the sky. Beside him, the grave for Henry was already dug, the earth mounded high on either side. The old dog had been carefully wheeled there in Stan’s old wheelbarrow, tucked in a soft blanket. Rita put her hand on him gently and felt the tears already building.
‘Reckon we’d best be quick, eh, Mrs Jory? Him upstairs was teasing us with his April showers yesterday. Big blow coming this afternoon, it’ll be. Proper Cornish squall. Rain and wind fit to shake the barn, I’ll bet.’
‘Oh, Stan. Don’t say that,’ Rita worried. ‘We’ve got a Saturday afternoon yoga session in there at four.’
But Stan Bodkin was better than any weather forecaster Rita had ever met. She noticed the breeze already tugging at the branches overhead and was ready to heed his warning. ‘Now are you sure you don’t want to call Jago?’ he asked gently, shading his eyes against the light.
‘Not now.’ Rita’s face creased in pain.
Stan gave a little shrug, his eyes softening. ‘Every so often, a man deserves a chance, Mrs Jory. Mrs Bodkin is always telling me that us men, well, we just don’t think right sometimes, different from you women do.’
‘Wait for us!’ Two familiar voices cut through the morning quiet, aside from the clucking of the hens and the occasionalmaafrom the goat pen.
Rita looked up to see Sennen and Thom appearing at the top of the orchard, hurried steps and worried faces making their way down. She felt a lump in her throat.
‘What the heck? You must have got up so early!’ Rita embraced them both at the same time. ‘You absolute darlings.’
‘Sen’s idea but I wanted to introduce you to Poppy anyway, so it kind of made sense to get up at the crack of sparrow.’
‘Oh God, I need to make up the beds,’ Rita fussed.
‘It’s fine. I can help.’ Sen squeezed her mum’s shoulder. ‘And he was our dog, too, Mum.’ Sennen’s voice wobbled as she went to the blanket that Henry was now tightly wrapped in, bent down, and kissed it. Thom leaned too and gave a gentle rub. Then went to his mother for an awkward hug.
‘He was the sweetest puppy, wasn’t he?’ Thom remembered.
‘Until he rolled in goat shit and wiped it up my new curtains,’ Rita laughed.
‘Aw. You have to get another one,’ Thom insisted. ‘You can’t be rattling around on your own in the farmhouse.’
Sennen became animated. ‘Remember when Buddy died, Dad wanted to replace him right away, but you said wait a few months.’
Thom laughed. ‘Next thing he’d been to the animal shelter and Henry was your birthday present.’
Rita shook her head. ‘Typical of your father, but let’s just sit tight for a moment, shall we? I’ve got enough on my plate, without having to train a puppy.’Like, a new baby to care for, potentially alone, she wanted to shout out.
‘Ready to say goodbye, Mrs Jory?’ Stan interrupted. ‘It’s just Mrs Bodkin wants me to take her down to the harbour shopping, before the storm comes in, so I need to get on.’
Stan lowered Henry and began to gently cover him with earth as the family quietly spoke.
‘You were so loved,’ Rita wobbled, throwing in his favourite squirrel toy. ‘Every single day.’
‘We’ll never forget you.’ Sennen wiped her tears away with the flat of her hand.
Thom looked on, his jaw trembling slightly.
With Stan on his way in his Land Rover and the three of them walking back down to the farmhouse, Rita quizzed the twins, ‘So, you said Poppy was here; how did three of you fit in a two-seater, or did you not come in your Porsche?’
‘It takes her so long to get ready, she wouldn’t have been able to go to bed last night,’ Sennen bitched.
Thom ignored his sister. ‘She’s getting the train down. I’ll fetch her from the station a bit later. We can stay in a hotel if it makes things easier.’
