Free Secrets of the Tides by Hannah Richell

he asked, and Helen gave a small, serious smile and smoothed the furrowed lines of his brow with her fingers.
    ‘Stop worrying,’ she said. ‘We’ll make it work. We have to.’
    They drank tea out of Daphne’s cups and saucers and watched as the removal vans disappeared down the drive and it was only then, as the radiators clicked and groaned and the cardboard boxes towered over them that the enormity of the move began to sink in.
    It surprised Cassie how quickly she adjusted to her new life. Once she’d unpacked the last of her possessions, got used to the scratchy new school uniform and attuned to the sound of the sea lulling her to sleep at night, she found that there was a lot to like about her new home. There was a simplicity and freedom that came with living in the countryside. In London her parents had always wanted to know exactly where she was and what she was doing, but somehow, by the coast, they didn’t seem as tense or cautious. Cassie revelled in her new-found freedom and as winter gradually receded, she took to pounding the cliff-top tracks, often stopping to perch on a creaking stile or a fallen tree while she watched the waves and daydreamed.
    Dora was still a pain, bounding around, snooping through her stuff and always wanting to follow her or know what she was doing, but whether it was the space of their new home, or the vast openness of the landscape around her, Cassie found she didn’t mind her sister’s stealthy pursuit quite so much any more. It was actually fun to wander down to the village shop together on Saturday mornings, spend their pocket money on penny sweets, and then sit on the sea wall, watching the crashing waves and the seagulls flap and spin above them on the breeze.
    Their father seemed to love it too. He did his best to balance his weekly commute to London, and while there were plenty of evenings when he couldn’t make it home, he always walked through the door on a Friday night with bear hugs for each of them and a beaming smile spread across his face.
    It appeared that all of them had adapted easily to the change. All of them found the transition to their new home relatively straightforward. All of them, except Helen.
    Helen, it seemed, was riddled with regret. Almost as soon as the boxes had been unpacked her mood changed. She stomped around the house like a stroppy teenager, grimacing as she opened yet another closet or wooden chest to be faced with teetering piles of fine bone china, crystal wine glasses, or bags of old clothes no one had the heart to throw out. She reminded Cassie of a caged tiger, frustration and bristling anger rolling off her in waves.
    ‘What on earth are we going to do with all this stuff ?’ she would moan, despairing of all the dusty relics.
    ‘Whatever we like, my darling,’ said Richard, attempting to pacify her with a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘This is our home now.’
    ‘So why do I feel like I’m living in some kind of museum?’ Helen shrugged him off. ‘I feel as though your mother is watching me.’
    ‘It’s bound to take us all time to settle in. The kids seem to love it though?’ he offered, glancing hopefully at Cassie and Dora who nodded back obediently. ‘I know it’s daunting, Helen, I feel it too, but I owe it to my parents to look after this place. It’s their legacy, after all.’ Helen didn’t reply, so he persevered. ‘And I know it’s a little cluttered and that not everything is to your taste, but you should consider it yours now. Treat it like a project, if you will, now you’re not working. It could be exciting, don’t you think? Do whatever you need to, to make it feel like your home.’
    Helen looked at him sceptically. ‘A project?’
    ‘Yes, my darling. Whatever it takes for you to be happy here.’
    And Cassie watched as her mother folded her arms across her chest and turned her gaze back towards the room, noting the dangerous glint in Helen’s eyes.
    While the Tides adjusted in their