Secrets of the Tides by Hannah Richell Read Free Book Online Page B

for dinner,’ Richard called out at her departing back. ‘Mum’s cooking a roast – my favourite, apparently, and we both know how terribly malnourished I am, don’t we.’ He patted his ample waistline and Helen smiled in spite of herself.
    Tensions between the two women simmered gently all week, but Helen was careful never to let them reach boiling point. And, if she were honest, Richard was right: it wasn’t so dreadful being back in Dorset. The family slowly began to relax into their surroundings and a new pace of life gradually washed over them. The girls roamed the grounds, filling their lungs with fresh sea air and their bones with sunshine. They played poohsticks in the stream at the bottom of the orchard, tramped out across the cliffs on long scenic walks and were allowed to stay up later than usual, playing cards with Alfred or watching old movies in the den. Helen found time to curl up on a window seat with one of the dusty novels lining the bookshelves in the library, or even to just sit and watch the clouds drifting across the endless sky. Daphne cooked up a storm in the kitchen, the Aga churning out a seemingly endless parade of cakes and pies, delicious casseroles and roasts. On the Sunday, Alfred and Richard rose early and hid chocolate eggs all over the garden for the traditional Easter egg hunt. Helen wore her green silk dress and forced the girls into matching embroidered dresses too, just for Daphne. And with the weather on their side for once, they spent hours down on the beach, flying kites, combing for shells, paddling in the rock pools and sharing picnics on rugs strewn across the pebbles.
    The sea was too cold for swimming but on their very last day, for a dare, Richard stripped down to his underpants and threw himself into the waves. Helen sat on a rug and watched him for a while as he splashed about in the water, the girls giggling at him from the shore. It was hard not to admire the strong muscles in his shoulders and his long, lean legs. He was a handsome man, and really not all that changed from the one she had met at university over a decade ago; a little less hair on the crown of his head perhaps, and a few crows’ feet around his eyes, but that was all. He was aging well. Watching him, she imagined his wet arms around her, his cold salt-water skin pressing against her own, and was surprised to feel a sudden rush of desire. It had been a while since they had made love. Perhaps she would make an effort later, put on some decent underwear and persuade him to have an early night.
    As Helen watched from the beach, Richard raced out of the waves, his skin pink from the cold. He held a long strand of seaweed above his head and chased first after Dora and then Cassie, making them scream with delight as he flapped the slimy green kelp at them. Helen smiled and reached for the camera lying beside her. It took her a moment to focus the lens and the three of them were almost upon her when the shutter finally snapped; a single image captured for ever. Cassie loomed in the foreground with her blond hair wind-whipped across her face and serious eyes staring straight down the lens, Dora a little behind, all rosy cheeks and wide laughing mouth, and Richard furthest away, grinning from ear to ear as he shook the water from his hair like a dog. It was an innocent moment captured and bottled for posterity like a fine wine and as Helen watched them she realised with a sudden start that this, after all, was happiness. It might not be quite the life she had imagined for herself, but it wasn’t half bad.
    As she sat on the pebbles, her arms wrapped around her knees, watching her husband and daughters dart about the beach with carefree laughter, Helen smiled to herself. The saying was true: when all was said and done, it was family that mattered most of all.

DORA

    Present Day
    The rain falls steadily on London all week, until Saturday dawns with a tentative new light. Dora draws the curtains to see the sun