‘Can’t wait. We have so much to catch up on.’
‘We do.’
I stared out of the window. Jo’s news had hit me like a thunderbolt. She was pregnant, about to be married, everything I’d hoped would have happened to me with Jack. I decided I couldn’t face her or Ally or Sara. Neither could I summon the courage to call and say I wouldn’t be there, hear the disappointment in her voice. I felt ashamed. I was going to let her down. If she knew the whole story, she might have understood, but it was too late to tell her and I couldn’t cast a shadow over her happiness with my tale of woe. She’d always been so soft-hearted; she’d have wept for me and I couldn’t do that to her at the happiest time of her life. No. Best I stayed away, I convinced myself, kept my story buried. All the same I felt guilty as hell. I sent a card to the address she’d given me, apologizing but explaining that I couldn’t get away at present, nor for the coming weeks. I knew it was a pathetic excuse.
*
As the weeks went on, there was little time to dwell on Jo or missing her wedding and, after a month, Hazelmere House was unrecognizable. I’d created order out of chaos and there was some satisfaction in that. I’d saved the day and discovered I had a skill. I was a born organizer. Who’d have guessed it. Once my plans had all been set in motion, no one had too much to do or too little.
But the accommodation was still a problem, the commune life no longer provided the escape it had back in London and I began to feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I missed the atmosphere of inspiration in London, and I missed my friends there. It felt like all work and no play where I was. For the first time, I had a chance to think about all I’d given up and realized that I missed my home comforts. I wanted a bed to sleep on, not a floor with no mattress. I wanted a lie-in, a decent cup of coffee and some less worthy company. The longing for a home became a physical ache in the pit of my stomach. But where was home? I didn’t have one. Maybe now would be a good time to leave and start a new life, I told myself, still supporting the Rainbow Children but not living in the commune.
Making plans to leave filled me with hope and a sense of relief but then came a call from Andrew …
‘We need you here, Mitch,’ he said. ‘As you know, the movement is expanding so we need a central office. I’m setting it up and getting the gang back together. Rosie’s already here. Pack your bags and get up here.’
I found out later that the school at Hazelmere House never did open. The teachers couldn’t decide on policy and, in the end, most of them left disillusioned and disappointed. Some left to take jobs in the nearby villages, and the farmhouse was taken over by Hugh and Minna, who went on to run it as a very successful B & B.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sara
Present day, March
A week later, I called Harvest again and, happily, we heard that Tom Riley was not only home from his holiday, he was at the shop that very day. Without wasting any time, Ally, Jo and I headed along to the food emporium. It was a vast high-ceilinged place selling fresh and packaged food, the accent being on local and organic.
Ally went over to the nearest counter and spoke to the young man with a goatee beard who was serving there. ‘Please could you tell us where we might find Tom?’
The man jerked a thumb towards the back of the store. ‘He’s in the office, past the bread counter, right-hand corner.’
We made our way through, found the office and knocked on the door.
‘Come,’ said a voice.
I opened the door. Inside was a tiny office crammed full of shelves laden with files, books and paper. An attractive older man with a mane of grey hair wearing a Mexican shirt and jeans was sitting behind a desk.
His face lit up when he saw me and he stood up. ‘Sara Meyers, well I never. I’ve seen you on the telly. I loved the series you did on health spas last year. I saw every one. How can I help?’
Jo stepped forward. ‘I’m Jo and this is Ally. We’re looking for a friend of ours and wondered if you knew her.’
‘Name?’
‘Michelle Blake. You might have known her when she was a member of the Rainbow Children.’
‘Mitch, course, we were mates. I remember her well.’
‘Do you know where she is?’ Jo asked.
Tom shook his head. ‘Ah, now of that I can’t be sure, it’s been a while, a long while. I’m sorry but I have no idea where she is.’
‘Do you know anyone from the Rainbow days who might still be in touch with her?’ Jo asked.
Tom thought for a moment. ‘Maybe Rosie Mason. They were good friends back in the day. They may well have stayed in touch.’
‘Do you have a number for her?’ I asked.
‘I might have, though I haven’t seen her for years either. Give me a moment.’ Tom opened a drawer and rummaged through, pulled out a shabby-looking address book and flicked through. ‘Yep, here we are. Rosie, Muswell Hill, here’s the last number and address I had for her. No idea if she’s still there.’
Jo wrote down the details he gave and moved towards the door. ‘Thanks so much and, just before we go, can you tell us any more? I know it’s a long time ago, but how was Mitch when you last saw her? We lost touch with her in the Rainbow Children period.’
‘Friends of hers were you?’
We all
