Free Secrets by Freya North Page A

like a zip. With the two tiny tramcars stationary midway up, it appeared the cliff's flies were half down. To her right, far along the beach, she noted the industrial chimneys of Redcar, the sunlight today investing the scene with the hazy romanticism of Monet as much as the prosaic charm of Lowry. Some distance to her left, the great lumbering mass of Huntcliff Nab commanded the beach to end in a perfect cove. So much to explore, she thought. How long before all this newness becomes my stamping ground?
Her visit to what she now thought of as the Everything Shop brought increased conversation with the proprietor today. Tess asked for rosemary and a shoebox full of packets of dried herbs was produced.
‘Sorry, love. No rosemary, but how about this – fines herbes . Sounds exotic, doesn't it.’
Tess agreed.
The lady continued. ‘Mind you, the way I pronounce it, sounds like a Scandinavian lurgy. Finiz herpiz.’
Tess laughed and had to agree again. ‘Well, I'll risk a packet anyway,’ she said. ‘Oh, and I need two more types as well.’
Between them, Tess and the lady went through the packets of herbs before Tess decided on tarragon and sage.
‘You cooking up a treat then, pet?’
‘I'm restocking. The old ones had creepy crawlies in them.’
‘You vegetarian, then?’
It was said so deadpan that it took a long wink from the proprietor to release Tess's laughter.
‘Would you have a nice vinegar? Try where? Real Meals – is that the deli on the corner of Station Square? Thanks for the recommendation. I'll have some of that jam, please. And do you sell wire wool? Of course you do – you're the Everything Shop.’
There wasn't much change. Tess calculated that balsamic vinegar might have to wait.
‘Stopping here a while, love?’
‘Stopping here, full stop,’ Tess told her. ‘I'm still finding my way around, still finding my feet. I met someone today who told me about a mums and toddlers group.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘London.’
The woman nodded her head gravely. ‘Why?’
Tess was stuck. ‘Why what?’
‘Why London – and why here?’
‘My sister lives in Edinburgh.’ But that was just the pat reason Tess had decided to use when the time was right to finally inform her friends where she was. She smiled at the lady as she prepared to leave. ‘Actually, why not here – it's good.’
The lady nodded.
‘I'm a house-sitter,’ Tess said. ‘Up the top. Anyway, I'd better go. I'm dying for a cup of coffee and it's a steep hike home with this old buggy.’
‘You want to take yourself to Camfields, pet. It's near the car park by Cat Nab, the funny little hilly mound near the beach – bottom of the Gardens. It's your kind of place, I would think, coming from London and all. You'll get your cup of chino there, or a latty or whatever. It's a café – you know – not a caff.’
‘I might just try it,’ Tess thanked her. And the next day she did just that. And the coffee really was excellent.

Chapter Seven
Nathalie stretched. She didn't really need to, there were no sore muscles or nagging joints to necessitate it. She did so because she was well aware how it presented her figure to its best advantage. So she stood in the front room of her apartment, on a Thursday evening, her hands clasped above her head, a slight hitch to one hip, knowing that her top, skimpy enough, was now stretched over jutting breasts as well as having ridden up to expose her toned stomach. She'd kept her high heels on because they elongated her legs and she'd locked her knees to increase further the sleekness of her limbs. Holding the pose a moment longer, while casting a nonchalant gaze out of the window, she then sighed as if she'd just had a satisfying yawn and she let her body go soft, her hands coming down to rest on her hips, one knee now cocked, breasts still up and out there.
‘So,’ she said, letting it hang, her lips maintaining a perfect ‘o’ of the word. ‘You will miss me, Joe?’ She did the same thing with