Hilda looked under her glasses at her. ‘Theywillbe coming but yes, OK, smartypants.’
Rita put it back in the envelope next to it. ‘I’ll take it with me now and we can get it sorted when the time is right.’ Rita paused for a second. ‘How’s Eric?’
Hilda raised her eyebrows. ‘Eric who?’
Rita’s lips twitched. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘No, you’re not,’ Hilda sighed. ‘And I’m nobody’s fool. I wanted the younger company. It’s not as easy when you get to my age to find a companion who wants to be so spontaneous.’
‘Do you think he’s used you?’ Rita asked softly, a hint of worry in her voice.
‘It’s been a joint effort.’ Hilda gave a small shrug, turning back to her papers. ‘Anyway, that’s enough airtime for bollocking Eric Poxley; you’ve got a wedding to run and burnt hand or not I have to choose which one of these funerals will have the best buffet.’
Rita smiled. ‘And I will happily give you a lift toanyyou need to go to. We don’t need pesky men to make us happy, Hilda.’
‘Says the woman who I’m guessing is fully back ensconced with a Jenken.’
Rita didn’t make a squeak. Hilda cleared her throat and with all sincerity announced, ‘I love you, Rita Jory, always have, always will.’
A bubble of emotion rose in her chest, and Rita wasn’t sure whether she was going to laugh or cry. Finally, she let out a shaky chuckle. ‘Now I really do think you are going to croak!’
FORTY-THREE
Rita pulled into the harbour car park. The bride and the rest of the wedding party wouldn’t be arriving until eleven, and Sennen had tasked her with fetching some pastries to offer in the Nook on arrival. A sugary treat she knew would set the perfect tone for the day.
After parking up, she rounded the corner and almost slammed straight into someone. Rita staggered back, heart jolting violently into her throat. Chloe Brimble. Of all people.
The young woman’s eyes widened, first wary, then edged with anger. Rita’s gaze immediately flicked to the young woman’s enormous pregnancy bump, softening her instinctive caution for just a moment.
‘Snap,’ Rita said gently. ‘I didn’t realise… Sennen never mentioned it.’
Chloe’s Cornish accent was as strong as Stan’s. ‘Well, she wouldn’t have, would she? It seems like she’s too busy pinning my family to that fire at yours.’ Chloe’s lips trembled. ‘I may be a Brimble, and we may not have always been white as white, but I would never harm anyone… or put my own life’ – she rubbed her bump – ‘or little Alfie’s here, at risk.’ Tears brimmed in her eyes. ‘And yes, what happened at the solicitors’. Well… I onlyhelped Jago Jenken with your husband’s will because I needed the money. I could see what he was doing was out of love for his family. I’d do the same. He offered me cash for information. But it backfired on me. I’d been out of work before, due to my grandfather’s reputation, and then was out of work for months after that.’
Rita hadn’t expected this. Chloe spoke with a raw, urgent conviction, as if she’d been waiting forever to clear her name. Against her better judgement, a flicker of compassion stirred. She knew Jago had acted with good intentions, but Chloe had paid the price, losing her job in the process.
Chloe lifted her gaze, trying to stop the tears from falling. ‘That bloody article didn’t help either. I guess that was down to you too?’
Rita could feel the electricity of raw emotion in the air. ‘It wasn’t, actually. I had no idea. Yes the writer was a guest at my retreat… but she didn’t tell me she was an undercover wedding reporter. She wasn’t too complimentary about us either, if you read it again.’
Chloe was silent, but her fury was still coming off her in waves as she stared at Rita and then turned and walked away.
Rita watched her go. And as she pushed open the door to Betty’s, a sudden wave of nausea rolled through her. Because as much as she wanted to believe that Chloe Brimble wasn’t connected to the fire, something in her gut told her that she shouldn’t.
Rita placed the goodies from Betty’s on her front seat and was just pulling on her seatbelt when a movement on the sea wall in front of her caught her eye. There, perched on the edge with her legs swinging gently, was Chloe. She looked different toearlier, Rita thought; the aggression had gone, more a sense of fear or indifference. The tide lapped lazily against the harbour steps, gulls wheeling overhead, their cries sharp in the chill morning air, carrying the young woman’s shrill voice to her through the open window of the Jimny.
‘Rita, Rita, have you got a minute?’
Rita hesitated, then on sensing the young woman’s obvious distress, got out of the car. As she walked towards her, Chloe’s eyes met hers, wary and pleading all at once.
‘I’d rather you heard it from me first.’ Chloe’s voice was now trembling. ‘Before the old bill work it out. Itwasan accident… but yes, it was me at your place. But I meant what I said, that I would never put anyone’s life at risk. I didn’t mean to start the fire. I promise.’
Rita looked at her questioningly. Chloe took a deep breath. ‘I lit a candle in one of those lanterns of yours… I’d forgotten my torch, see, and my phone battery was low. There were matches, I just… I just wanted to see what you had on offer, how you were running your weddings. I wanted to make ours the best it could be, especially after that article came out. And then Hilda came in… and I panicked. I dropped it. It caught on the tablecloth, and it went up like nobody’s business. I ran, ran for my little one, for my family… and I am truly, truly sorry.’
Rita realised she was holding her breath. ‘And a few weeks before, was that you snooping around too?’
‘Yes.’ Chloe replied quietly.
Rita’s chest tightened. ‘You could have killed someone.’
