Kelly was lounging on the sofa, legs curled up, a glass of wine in hand, when Rita stumbled into the living room, streaks from tears evident on her cheeks.
‘Oh, Reet… he didn’t take it well, then?’ Kelly asked, sitting up and raising an eyebrow.
‘He didn’t take it at all,’ Rita choked out. ‘Elodie… she just appeared and told him that Amélie,herkid, ishis.’
Kelly nearly spat out her wine. ‘Well, fuck me sideways and call me Marjorie! You have to be joking, surely?’
Rita couldn’t help it; through her tears, a shaky laugh burst out of her. It came out half sob, half giggle, mostly hysterics and she shook her head.
‘Marjorie it is,’ Kelly declared, settling back into the sofa with a huge sigh. ‘Honestly, Reet… some things in this life you just can’t make up. So, what are you going to do?’
Rita sighed deeply and then quietly replied. ‘Stan said leave him be and I think he’s right. So, for now, I’m going to do absolutely nothing.’
TWENTY-FOUR
Two days later, the early morning air was crisp and fragrant. Rita strode with purpose up to the High Meadow to greet the guests for the planned Seal Watching Walkalong the cliff path. Zenya was already there, delivering the Easter baskets Rita had been late in preparing thanks to everything life had thrown at her, while Teo was busy giving the inside of the barn a fresh coat of white paint in preparation for the wedding of the year.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see yet another of Jago’s messages. Reassurances stacking up faster than she could ignore them, all of which she had been refusing to reply to:
Hope you’re OK. Amélie is my priority for now, whilst I sort out what’s best. Just her, nobody else. But I’m thinking of you ALL the time x.
Rita stared at the screen. Priority. Just how much didshematter to him? And how carefully should she guard her own heart? And yet, the kiss at the end… it tugged at something she couldn’t ignore. God, love was a tricky fish. One minute itswam quietly beside you, the next it thrashed about, leaving you soaked and unsure where you stood.
She hovered over the reply button, fingers poised, mind spinning. Should she just reassure him? Should she let him know she was fine? Should she just continue not acknowledging him at all until he was back banging her door down? Each option felt like opening a doorshe wasn’t sure she wanted open, not yet. He needed to be certain of her because this time it wasn’t just about her anymore. She came as a package now. As did he.
With a sharp exhale, she dropped her thumb. Not today. Not now. She shoved the phone back into her pocket, letting the annoyance prick at her chest. He could think of her often if he wanted, but she was not going to be pulled into his orbit again, not while she tried to hold on to herself.
She lifted her face to the sunlight and managed a smile. It was a relief that her morning sickness had subsided. Instead of fish fingers and Nutella topping her craving wish list, she had taken to oranges and apples. She also couldn’t get enough of gherkins, which she ate straight from the jar. She had had the same hunger for gherkins with Sennen and Thom. She put her hand to her tummy, wondering, two girls, two boys, or one of each like before? She found herself quietly hoping for a matching pair, imagining them playing side by side instead of the endless girl-and-boy bickering she remembered, and still encountered. The refereeing, the negotiations, the lifelong argument over whose turn it was.
And then there were names. Twins needed names thatbelongedtogether, that sat comfortably side by side without one outshining the other. Thomas had always been their first choice. A strong name. Whilst Sennen was true to Cornwall. In Rita’s mind, they felt like balance. Like land and tide. None of this lark was easy, was it? People went on as if having twins was all double prams and novelty outfits, but really it was double thethinking, double the work, double the worrying, and already her mind was doing cartwheels with what was to come.
When she was minutes away from reaching Yurt Avenue, she stopped to catch her breath. It was quite a climb up and from here the ocean stretched in endless blue, sunlight scattering across it in glittering diamonds, waves rolling rhythmically toward the rocks below. Seabirds wheeled overhead, their cries sharp against the surf, swooping and diving with effortless grace. The scent of salt and wildflowers mingled with the faint tang of seaweed clinging to the rocks far below.
‘This is incredible,’ Rita murmured to herself, taking in a huge, exaggerated breath of clean air.
Awash with self-doubt and sadness about Jago, breathing in nature was just what she needed. It had always helped to take her mind away from itself. And it felt good to keep fit. Especially as she knew she was going to need every ounce of stamina she could muster with two little munchkins to run after.
‘All right, let’s go,’ Rita shouted once the group had finally emerged from their yurts. Zenya lifted her arm and started to lead the way along the narrow cliff path.
‘No Imogen again?’ Rita looked to Zenya.
Odette intervened. ‘I don’t know why she bothered to come away at all, to be honest.’
‘She has a headache,’ Zenya added.
Odette tutted. ‘Not bloody surprising if you stick your head in a tablet twenty-four hours a day! It sounds likeshe’styping a novel!’
Cass fell in step beside Rita, scanning the edge of the cliff with quiet intensity. Then he laughed, a little embarrassed.
‘I haven’t been avoiding you, honest.’ Rita didn’t admit that she’d been doing exactly that.
‘Sorry about the kiss,’ he said, glancing at her. ‘I mean… I am. But I’m not taking back that I think you’re hot.’
Rita shot him a look, half mortified, half amused. ‘I’m old enough to be your mother.’
His grin widened. ‘Makes it hotter.’
‘Still not happening.’ Rita laughed, suddenly feeling a spring in her step. She needed this, needed to feel desirable again, properly seen, not just useful, maternal, or sensible.
