Rita slipped through the revellers, the door thudding behind her as cool night air hit her like a splash of saltwater. The harbour smelled of seaweed and vinegar. A lone gull screeched as she leaned against the wall and tried to steady herself.
‘Rita?’ Cass’s voice came, casual but soft, as he appeared behind her. His eyes sharp with concern. ‘You look pale. Like a Victorian heroine about to swoon at the handsome suitor about to catch her.’
Rita gave a short laugh mixed with a groan.
Cass led her towards the bench by the sea wall. ‘Talk to me. What’s up?’
Knowing it was a combination of stress and tiredness, Rita shook her head. ‘Nothing. Just… too warm inside.’
Cass studied her, expression softening. ‘You don’t always have to be the strong one. It’s fine to wobble. I’m an expert in that, as you know.’
Rita blinked, surprised by the honesty. Before she could answer, he leaned closer. ‘Also… your face is extremely annoying right now.’
‘What?’
‘You know… the kind of face that makes me want to do something very stupid.’
Rita’s breath hitched. Surely he didn’t mean… ‘Cass…?’
‘I know, I know,’ Cass said, laughing nervously. ‘You’re sensible. I’m… not. But I thought you wanted this too. I pushed you away, remember? And then when you hugged me on that same night at the beach… well.’
His hand touched Rita’s cheek, warm and insistent. Then, before she could say anything, he leaned in and his lips brushed the corner of hers, soft and loving.
Rita froze for an instant. Then jumped back, eyes wide. ‘Cass! No… look, I wasn’t… I’m just… I was being motherly, kind, someone who cared. I’m so sorry if I gave the wrong impression!’
Cass blinked, a little deflated. ‘Right… got it. But, uh… wow. Rita, you are so hot.’
Rita took a shaky breath, trying to settle her racing heart. ‘And you are full of seven per cent cloudy cider.’
‘I know what I’m doing,’ Cass said quietly. ‘But I’m so sorry if I offended you.’ He walked back toward the pub, panic flashing. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’
Rita froze. For across the street, under the neon glow of Batter Days, stood Elodie. Perfectly still. A white fish-and-chip parcel in one hand, her phone raised in the other. Eyes bright, mouth curved in a slow, deliberate smile.
Lowering her phone, Elodie tilted her head, her expression remaining perfectly calm, perfectly knowing.
And as Rita watched the French intruder stride toward the car park, if her stomach had been doing somersaults before, it was now performing a full-on gymnastics routine.
TWENTY-ONE
The next morning, with goats and chickens fed at dawn so as not to bump into Cass or anyone else for that matter, Rita sat with her feet up on the window seat in the den, cradling a ginger tea, her eyes red from crying. On seeing Kelly’s name flash up on the screen she grabbed her phone as if her life depended on it. She had even been missing her irreverent mother-in-law, who had messaged late last night to say she was back at Eric’s place and would be coming home to the farm tomorrow.
‘Thank God, Kel. Where have you been?’
‘Reet, darling, what’s the matter? You just said to call, not that it was urgent. I showered and got ready for work and here I am.’
‘Everything is shit. I’ve hardly slept. Cass tried to kiss me, and I think Elodie saw and Sunday night wasourfish supper night.’ Rita started to cry. ‘And I feel sick and I look like a bloater fish with features.’
Kel couldn’t help letting out a little laugh. ‘I’m sure you don’t. One sec, let me connect to the car. Can you hear me all right?’
‘Yes, yes. Oh, Kel, I can’t feel if a baby is in there.’ Rita sniffed and made a little wailing sound.
‘That’s because it’s the size of a pea,’ Kel said matter-of-factly. ‘What are you now –
eight weeks at most?’
‘Twelve, Kel, nearly twelve. I have my first scan tomorrow and I’m scared I’ll be on my own and I fucking hate Jago Jenken.’
‘Oh darling, why don’t you just tell him!’
