The sun shone down over Seahaven Farm as if knowing that today had to be exactly right for the grand opening. Even the goats and chickens had surprisingly behaved themselves at feeding time, which she had managed at record speed.

  Rita had checked on all the yurts, which were now looking so homely and comfortable, and had just met with Zenya and Teo in the food marquee, which had been signposted by Stan as the Snack Shack, to go over final arrangements.

  Once she felt everything was in order, she showered (keeping her hair dry as it still looked so beautifully styled from the night before). She donned a long flowery midi dress that she’d found at the back of her wardrobe and old white leather pumps, which she’d cleaned up with hot water and a cloth. Putting on a smudge of pale pink lipstick and a swipe of mascara, she took a look at herself in her bedroom mirror and smiled. For the first time in ages, she felt that she looked good, which meant she felt good too.

  She was just about to knock on Kelly’s door to check she was getting ready when Sennen phoned, voice panicked but trying to stay calm.

  ‘Mum, you’re not going to believe this. The groom’s mum has accidentally sent the cake to the wrong address. Apparently, it’s sitting in someone’s fridge in Brighton. The wedding is in Brampton! The bride just found out. She’s losing it. I’m trying not to. A courier is going to cost a fortune, and as it’s a replica of the Eiffel flipping Tower, they are saying that they can’t guarantee it won’t get damaged. So, I said I’d drive there and get it.’

  Rita couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Well, at least it’s not the wedding dress, I guess.’

  ‘Bless you being so jovial.’ Sennen sighed. ‘But it means I really need to sort this and by the time I’ve driven to you it will be late and…’

  ‘Sennen. My beautiful girl. Take a breath. I’m glad you’re not coming; how about that.’

  ‘What?’ Sennen sounded slightly perturbed.

  ‘I know you’re super busy and wanted to make an effort for me, but it’s too much driving all this way when you’ve got so much on. Wait until you get a proper break and see me then. Teo and Zenya are doing me proud, and I’ve got Kelly here for a few days. I’m totally covered.’

  ‘Oh, Mum. I love you for always making things easy.’

  ‘That’s kind of my job.’ Rita felt herself welling up at the appreciation. ‘How’s your new flat, quickly before you go?’

  ‘I love it. It’s small but I’m still Reading central, can walk to the station now, so it’s worked out brilliantly.’

  ‘I’m so pleased. Now go and get the Eiffel Tower. Oh, and any word from Thom?’

  Sennen hesitated. ‘He called me. Erm…’

  ‘And…’ Rita felt uneasy.

  ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘Sennen?’

  ‘He’s fine, Mum.’

  ‘Did he say anything about opening day?’ Rita pushed.

  ‘Mum, just have the best day ever and I will call you as soon as I can to find out how it went. Love you!’

  All of a sudden, Kelly charged past her towards the bathroom, all white towel and wobbling bosom, with a loud, ‘I won’t be long, Reet, pinkie promise.’

  Rita was just walking downstairs wondering why Sennen was keeping such a close allegiance with her brother when the doorbell rang. She went to open it but there was nobody there; just as she was about to close it again, something fell against her feet. On seeing it was a beautiful bouquet of long-stemmed pink roses, and sweet-scented white freesias, her heart did a little leap. She ripped at the mini envelope poked inside and then put her hand to her chest at the handwritten note.

  Some things are better felt than said. Good luck today. Jago x

  With a sudden feeling of being watched, Rita looked in the direction of the annexe to see a stern-looking Hilda slowly shaking her head.

  Rita was adjusting her hair for the fifth time, as cars – including the only three taxis that serviced the bay – crunched one after the other up the gravel drive. She had asked them all to arrive at three thirty and remarkably all five of them had turned up bang on time.

  Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was really happening. Actual paying guests. For one terrible moment, she wondered if she’d completely lost her mind, but then she saw people stepping out, stretching their legs, pointing at the sea view with delighted faces. The nerves loosened, just a touch, and excitement rushed in to take their place.

  Stepping out of the Snack Shack marquee, she fixed a beaming smile, quietly repeating under her breath, ‘You’ve got this, girl.’

  She mouthed, ‘Take a seat’ to each of them as they filed in whilst Teo arranged their luggage at the back of the marquee ready to take up to the yurts in Archie’s Land Rover.

  Kelly appeared from the side door, precariously balancing a tray dotted with champagne flutes filled with pale, fragrant elderflower fizz. She nodded to Rita, who signalled back to her to start handing them around.

  Rita took in a huge, visible breath. ‘Welcome, everybody, to the Seahaven Bay Retreat. I’m Rita Jory and this place is my new baby, so to speak.’ Another deep breath. ‘The plan is to run it like clockwork, of course, but you need to bear in mind we are on a farm, where the animals don’t respond to “No noise please.”’ She paused to add, Especially Nigel the cockerel, then sadly remembered his demise.

  A ripple of polite laughter moved through the group. ‘And, secondly, we are in Cornwall where our microclimate doesn’t respond to’ – Rita assumed a thick Cornish accent – ‘“no rain or mizzle please”, either.’

  More polite laughter.

  ‘As well as chickens, we’ve got goats. Camilla, the pure white one, has a knack for escaping. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she told me she was pregnant by the end of the week. So, if you do see her on the run, please let one of the team know.’

  Stronger laughter.

  Rita lifted her glass. ‘A little something to celebrate new beginnings for us all – non-alcoholic, may I add. To get you going before the real work begins.’

  ‘Work?’ a big-busted woman in a flowery kaftan repeated. ‘I’m only here to have a good time and maybe find myself a handsome distraction, if I’m lucky.’

  Rita chuckled to herself, but when one of the two men in the group took a swig of the fizz and then casually slipped a tiny bottle of vodka from his pocket to top it up, she couldn’t help but wonder exactly what she’d let herself in for.

  Zenya and Teo had now joined her up the front.

  ‘I’d like to introduce you to Zenya and Teo.’ The beautiful pair smiled broadly. ‘You will be seeing a lot of them around the place. Teo is our yoga guru, and as well as some stretching and soul work, he will be taking those of you who like a wildlife hike on some amazing walks, plus tempting you to dip in the ocean down at Seahaven Cove for some cold-water swimming. Zenya here will be in charge of our gong and breathwork classes, plus moonlight mantras which we hope will open up some soul searching and meaningful conversations. There is a leaflet with all of the classes and times in your yurts, so don’t worry about remembering all of this. Plus, there is a map of the local area and plan of the site here. My mobile is on there, too, should you not be able to find anyone to ask.’

  ‘Sounds like a blessed army camp if you ask me,’ Vodka Man snorted. The other four guests all gave him a look. He harrumphed. ‘Sorry, sorry. Let’s just say I’m not here of my own free will and leave it at that for now, shall we?’ The man’s deep voice boomed.

  ‘Jesus,’ Zenya whispered in earshot of Rita and Teo.

  ‘Zenya and Teo will be taking your luggage up to your yurts, so goodbye for now, you two.’ The pair left with a smile and a wave.

  Rita cleared her throat. ‘Gosh, I feel like I’m going on a bit.’

  ‘No, it’s great you are so organised,’ a thin, bespectacled woman in her early thirties added quietly.

  ‘Fabulous.’ Rita smiled at the encouragement. ‘So, bear with me while I rattle through the rest.’ She checked her notes. ‘Oh yes… The six…’ Kelly kicked her gently. ‘I mean, seven areas you need to be aware of are as follows: High Meadow, where your yurts are positioned. I don’t think even the most cynical person would be able to complain at the view up there.’ She didn’t dare catch Vodka Man’s eye. ‘The Singing Tree, located near to where your yurts are positioned, is a beautiful old sycamore under which you can get some shade and rest and meditate. Here, which is the Snack Shack where we will serve cold lunches and hot dinners. Breakfast will be a hamper full of Cornish goodies, plus a healthy option and various beverages. It will be left outside your door at seven a.m. every morning with the choice of eating alone or on the picnic tables up there.’

  ‘I take it there will be coffee?’ Vodka Man shouted out.

  ‘Yes, and I can promise it won’t be instant.’ Rita gritted her teeth. ‘All food served at the retreat will be vegetarian, with no alcohol provided. But for those of you who can’t bear the thought of no fish, meat, or booze then there’s a great pub called the Winking Pilchard, plus other eateries down in the bay which is a short bus or car ride down the hill. And for which I have discount vouchers.’

  ‘The Winking fucking Pilchard. Fucking genius,’ Vodka Man announced, causing everyone to hesitantly laugh.

  ‘What about vegans?’ an overweight girl with purple hair and a septum piercing piped up, her phone held high, as she filmed the proceedings.

  ‘All kale the vegans,’ the distractor boomed. Everybody ignored him.

  ‘And, sorry… I don’t know all your names yet…’ Rita addressed Vegan Girl.

  ‘Lola,’ she replied, pressing a stop to her recording.

  Rita’s voice remained calm but firm. ‘I’d rather you didn’t film now. I think it’s important we respect guests’ space. Some people might not want to be on camera. After all, I can imagine a few of you are here to take a break from the madness that is social media.’

  Lola lowered her phone with a small, theatrical pout.

  ‘Thank you.’ Rita reinstated her smile. ‘And of course, we have you vegans covered.’ But inwardly, she cringed at her own blatant lie, realising that some guests would almost certainly expect vegan options. She was sure Zenya had the cooking skills to manage it, but Rita wasn’t about to start stocking every milk alternative on the supermarket shelf or catering to every fad diet going. Plain old cow’s milk had always been enough for her and her family.

  ‘I didn’t want this to feel like some kind of wellness prison,’ Rita noted. ‘No juice-only regimes here. What’s the fun in that?’ She smiled and caught the eye of a laid-back-looking man with straight, shoulder-length mousy hair, annoyingly perfect teeth and sunglasses. He gave her a slow nod and a little half smile, as though the comment was meant just for him. Rita felt a flicker of heat rise in her cheeks – for heaven’s sake, was she actually blushing? Get a grip, woman.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Back to buildings of note. The Splash Stop is in the annexe next to the farmhouse, with a shower, bath, and proper loo. There is also an outside toilet, shower of sorts and sink in the outbuildings down by the orchard, signposted “Number Two”.’ Another small ripple of laughter. ‘The Serenity Barn, adjoining this building, really is our peaceful go-to space and where most of the sessions will be held. The Orchard is where we will run yoga sessions if the weather holds like it has been. Or you may simply want to read or chill there. There’s a resort guide book in each yurt that covers all of this, plus local walks, restaurants, bus times and timetables, cinema listings, everything you might need for Seahaven Bay. I’m sure you’ll have loads of questions, but for now, I’ll let you go and settle into your new home for the month of July.’ Rita looked to Kelly, who mouthed, ‘Guest slot.’

  ‘Oh, yes and at the Seahaven Bay Retreat we like to mix it up a bit and have a special monthly guest slot, details of which I will enlighten you with during your stay.’

  Having delivered the guests’ luggage to their yurts, Zenya and Teo rushed into place at the back of the tent. ‘Up to you if you’d like to walk up to High Meadow. It’s around half a mile from what I’m calling Yurt Avenue. Zenya here is happy to show you the way. Or Teo will be outside in the Land Rover if you’d prefer to get your bones rattled.’ People began to stand. ‘Oh, and one more important thing. Zenya, Teo and I will be under the Singing Tree at six p.m. tonight where the plan is a really informal meet and greet circle, where you can ask as many questions as you like. We’d love to see some of you, ideally all of you, there.’

  As the guests slowly filed out of the marquee into the steaming July afternoon, a soft buzz of anticipation hung in the air. Four of the guests followed Zenya on foot towards the High Meadow, chatting quietly, whilst Vodka Man, to Teo’s complete confusion, heaved himself into the Land Rover, shouting, ‘To the High Meadow, lad, and don’t spare the horses.’

  Rita stood outside the marquee with the afternoon sunshine warming her shoulders, Kelly by her side, now laughing aloud.

  ‘Bloody hell, Reet, can we open some wine now, please?’

  Rita smiled, emotion catching in her throat. ‘You can. I want to stay sober until at least after the meet and greet. Weirdly, in all the preparation for this retreat I never thought about who might book onto it; I didn’t realise quite what having five different personalities under one roof might bring to the proceedings.’

  Kelly smirked. ‘Well, we know someone who won’t be staying sober. Hilarious. I can’t wait to hear his story. And who’s the guest slot for July?’

  Rita laughed. ‘I’ve no idea but I’m sure something will come to me.’

  They made their way inside the cool farmhouse. This was it, a new beginning, a new venture. The Seahaven Bay Retreat was officially open, and Rita Jory could finally release some of her money worries and, hopefully, begin to grasp a new lease of life.

  TWENTY-THREE

  By six o’clock, the late sun was slanting golden through the branches of the Singing Tree, a slight breeze setting the wind chimes on their dance of heavenly tinkling. The grass was warm, the bees were heading back to their hives, and Teo had just finished arranging some hay bales in a wonky semicircle.

  Rita stood at the front, her nerves disguised beneath a cheery smile. Zenya sat, legs crossed and barefoot, in the grass. Teo leaned against the trunk.

  Rita was happy to see all the new retreat guests were gathered, each clutching a biodegradable welcome cup filled with more of the fizz from earlier.

  ‘Welcome, everyone,’ Rita said brightly. ‘I hope you’ve settled into your new temporary homes – they have a pretty amazing view, won’t you agree?’ Nobody said anything. Zenya and Teo shared a quick ‘brace yourself’ glance. ‘You’ve officially survived your first few hours at Seahaven Bay Retreat, so well done. Tonight, as we are such a small group, I thought we’d do a gentle welcome circle under the Singing Tree. My personal favourite place to just be.’

  A few hesitant glances passed amongst the group.

  ‘Optional but encouraged,’ Zenya said, standing up.

  Rita continued, ‘We’d love for you to introduce yourselves – just your name, maybe why you’re here, or what you hope to get from the retreat. Or you can say nothing at all.’

  A woman perched confidently on a hay bale in a cheetah-print kaftan and gold wedges, her thick blonde hair curled to perfection, didn’t wait for permission.

  ‘I’ll go first. I’m Annie. Fifty-nine. Former cabin crew where I spent thirty years serving tea at thirty thousand feet while avoiding turbulence and terrible pick-up lines. Not much has changed. Serial dater. Serial heartbreaker. And seriously terrible at Tinder. I’m hoping to find inner peace or a man with a decent pension and a bad heart. Either will do.’

  Zenya nodded graciously, as if the extroverted Annie had just announced she was here to study philosophy.

  ‘Well, don’t be looking at me with pound signs in your eyes,’ Vodka Man quipped.

  ‘I do have some standards,’ Annie spat back.

  Everybody was now smirking.

  Next to Annie was Lola, looking glorious in lemon yoga pants, smelling of patchouli oil, her purple hair in a single plait this time. She beamed enthusiastically. ‘Hi! I’m Lola. I’m twenty-five, a Virgo sun, Pisces moon, and I run a plant-based wellness brand called Vibe & Thrive on Instagram.’

  She paused for dramatic effect, expecting recognition. She wasn’t deterred when it didn’t come. ‘I’ve just come off a five-day liquid chlorophyll cleanse and I’m hoping to spiritually realign, emotionally detox, and maybe lose the last stone that’s clinging to my aura.’

  Vodka Man groaned audibly and then luckily only in Teo’s direction, whispered, ‘To her fat arse, she means.’

  All heads turned to the middle-aged man with a pot belly, red nose, and perfectly coiffed silver-grey hair with tidy matching beard. He was slouched with a suspiciously large reusable water bottle between his legs and a scowl miserable enough to turn the weather.

  ‘I’m Michael,’ he muttered. ‘Divorced. Divorce lawyer. Old enough to know better. Recently detoxed from own marriage and now actively retoxing with spirits and I don’t mean the ethereal kind. There will be no singing. Or tree-hugging. And don’t even think of sticking a blessed herbal enema anywhere near any of my orifices.’

  Lola blinked. ‘Maybe that is exactly what you need. I think you might be holding a whole lot of stagnant energy.’

  Rita, realising this probably would be the only thing Michael would be holding on to, quickly intervened. ‘Well, welcome, Michael, and let’s hope we can release some of it in other ways, eh?’

  Michael muttered and took another swig from his potent water bottle.

  Next came the chiselled-featured long-haired, good-teeth man. He wore dark sunglasses even in the shade and hadn’t spoken much since arriving. He pulled them down slightly now, revealing tired, kind eyes.

  ‘Call me Paul. Here to write music and escape the industry and the world for a bit.’

  He gave a lazy shrug. Rita felt her stomach flutter as his gaze lingered on her just a fraction too long. He carried a sexy arrogance that made her pulse quicken. What was going on with her? She hadn’t seen Jago for a while, but out of sight had not meant out of mind. Something had stirred within her, and she wasn’t sure how to navigate her feelings. She shifted slightly, self-conscious, and cursed herself for noticing Paul’s unnerving charm. Annie eyed him with interest and the others looked like they were trying to place him. Then came the awkward pause. All eyes shifted to the small, mousy woman on the end who had been pretending to be part of the tree trunk.