Free Secrets of the Tides by Hannah Richell Page A

individual ways to the move, some things stayed the same. Bill Dryden remained a familiar face around the estate, his hunched figure often visible from the house, stooped over a flower bed or digging in the vegetable patch, just as he had when her grandparents were alive.
    Cassie liked Bill, he was what her grandfather would have called a good egg , and sometimes, when she was bored with roaming round the big house, she would wander out, following the lazy drift of his tobacco smoke until she found him. She liked to sit and watch him work, sometimes in companionable silence, sometimes engaging in easy conversation. He didn’t treat her like a little girl. He talked to her like a grown-up and always seemed interested in her opinions.
    She was heading out to find him early one Saturday morning, when Dora caught her by the back door.
    ‘Where are you going?’
    ‘Just out.’
    ‘ Where out?’
    ‘Nowhere special.’
    ‘Can I come?’
    Cassie sighed. ‘I suppose so. You’ll need your boots though, it’s muddy.’
    Dora was already rummaging in the pile by the back door for her red wellies. ‘Got them!’ she called. ‘Let’s go.’
    Cassie held the door open for Dora and they began to clomp their way down the lawn towards the stream, their boots squelching in unison through the wet grass. It had finally stopped raining. There was a freshness to the air that made their cheeks sting but every so often the sun appeared from behind a fast-moving bank of grey clouds and showered them in a pale, golden warmth. Cassie could see clusters of bright yellow daffodils dancing in the flower beds.
    ‘Where are we going?’ asked Dora after a little while.
    ‘I don’t know. Just around.’
    She took a running jump over the narrow stream and then continued along to the old rusting gate that led into the fruit orchard at the bottom of the garden. The first buds were just emerging on the tips of the branches, a faint green hue against the brown bark. For a while the two sisters wandered amongst the trees aimlessly, companionable in their silence, until the sound of metal against wood carried towards them on the breeze.
    ‘Listen!’ Cassie said. ‘It’s Bill . . . come on!’ She set off at a run down the hillside, leaving Dora to chase after her, and arrived in the clearing at the bottom of the orchard just in time to see the stooped grey-haired man hefting a large axe at a gnarly branch of wood. ‘Bill!’ she called out. ‘Bill, it’s us!’
    The elderly man turned and squinted before breaking into a broad smile. ‘Well, if it isn’t my two favourite girls. Hello there, how are you both?’
    Dora rushed past Cassie at full pelt and launched herself into the man’s arms.
    ‘Whoa there, Nellie!’ he cried, taking the full, buffeting embrace of the little girl. ‘You nearly knocked me for six!’
    Dora giggled. ‘I’m not Nellie. I’m Dora!’ It was their little joke.
    Cassie caught Bill’s eye and smiled.
    ‘And Cassie too,’ he said in his West Country lilt. ‘Aren’t I the lucky one. My Betty is still on at me to have you round to the house. She wants to make one of her chocolate cakes especially . . .’
    ‘We’ll come,’ said Cassie readily. Betty Dryden’s chocolate cake was legendary.
    ‘Good-oh,’ smiled Bill.
    ‘What are you doing?’ asked Dora, poking at a pile of logs with the toe of her wellington boot.
    ‘Just clearing up after winter, chopping firewood for next.’
    ‘Maybe we could help you?’ said Dora hopefully.
    ‘Well, you’d be welcome to. I’ve got plenty of branches to clear still. It’s hard work, mind.’
    Dora did a little jig of excitement. ‘I’ll start over here.’
    She raced off and Cassie watched with amusement as her little sister began to fight with an oversized branch lying in the long grass.
    Bill chuckled. ‘She’s nowt but determined, your sister. Reminds me of a young pup. More energy than she knows what to do with.’ He reached for a handkerchief and