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He stirred enough to pull her closer and kiss her slowly, properly, the kind that reminded her they were still them underneath the exhaustion and routines and endless responsibilities. Outside, the wind moved softly around the farmhouse while downstairs the boiler hummed and somewhere in the distance a sheep called out into the night.

For a little while, the world narrowed only to warmth and familiarity and the comfort of being wanted.

Then, inevitably, one of the twins let out a sleepy cry through the monitor.

Jago groaned and pushed himself upwards. ‘I’ll go.’

Rita caught hold of his arm. ‘No. You’ve got the cows at dawn. I’ll do it.’

With a sigh of relief, he sank back against the pillows as she slipped from the bed.

And as Rita padded quietly along the landing towards her babies, she thought how strange life was really. Up at High Meadow, a group of people were trying to untangle themselves from grief, heartbreak, addiction, loneliness, fear. Yet here, in the middle of ordinary interruption and half-slept nights and the morning’s jobs already waiting, life simply kept moving forwards anyway.

The sun would come up over Seahaven Bay in a few hours’ time. And tomorrow would be another day.

THIRTY-FOUR

The next morning, Chloe breezed into Rita’s kitchen looking as though she’d slept for approximately three minutes. Her hair was scraped into a messy bun, oversized sunglasses perched on her head, and she punctuated her entrance with a jaw-cracking yawn.

Rita glanced up from preparing the twins’ breakfast. Noa and Nathan sat in their highchairs, each armed with a plastic spoon, enthusiastically thwacking the trays in what had become a daily competition to see who could make the most noise.

Rita raised an eyebrow over the cheerful din. ‘You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

Chloe laughed and dropped her things onto the worktop. ‘And a very good morning to you too.’ She sounded bright and breezy considering.

Rita smiled and slid a mug of coffee towards her. ‘Let me guess. Alfie kept you up all night.’

Chloe’s cheeks pinked, but she grinned rather than looked embarrassed. ‘You know what they’re like.’

‘Where is your little man today anyway?’

‘The neighbour I’ve become friends with said she’d have him. I offered her money, but she’s got a little one of her own, so she said she’d just like one of my shell wind chimes in return.’

‘Aw, that’s kind of her.’

Rita took a steadying breath. Was Chloe’s lack of sleep down to the fact she was sleeping with her son? The thought of whether Thom was lying to her sent a familiar knot of unease twisting in her stomach.

Still, she had to be fair. There was no denying Chloe had changed over the past few weeks. Yes, she had been acting a little odd, but today she seemed lighter somehow, happier in her own skin. If Rita was honest, that change hadn’t affected her work one jot. The twins were thriving, the house ran smoothly, and Chloe cared for Noa and Nathan as though they were her own.

And that was what mattered, wasn’t it?

She had hired Chloe to help with the children. Her own maternal nosiness about who might or might not be sharing her son’s bed should be secondary.

Before she could dwell on it any further, Stan knocked loudly and, with an ‘it’s open’ from Rita, he ambled in, bringing with him a gust of chilly air. The loyal farmhand’s woolly hat was pulled down over his ears, his rosy cheeks even rosier than usual.

‘Morning, fair maidens.’ He grinned.

‘Morning, Stan,’ the ladies responded in unison.

Rita checked the clock. ‘I’d offer you a coffee, Stan, but I must get a shift on. I want to greet the new retreaters at breakfast. It’s their first day.’

‘Don’t be silly, young Rita.’ Stan’s deep Cornish accent sang as he dug around in his wallet.

He peered over at the twins properly for the first time and his expression softened instantly.

‘Well now, look at these two. You’re double trouble, aren’t you?’

Nathan responded by banging his spoon with extra conviction, delighted to have an audience. Noa squealed in delight.