Secrets of the Tides Read Online Free PDF Page B

thought we’d taught him better than that.’
    ‘What’s clear to me is that we’ve taught him a sense of responsibility. I’m proud of the way he’s handling it.’ Alfred tried to cheer his wife.
    Daphne lowered her voice, but Helen could still make out the words that followed. ‘I mean, how well does he really know her? He’s a good catch. How does he know that the baby is even his? Do you think she’s playing games . . . trying to trap him?’
    Helen flushed an angry red but she couldn’t pull herself away.
    ‘He’s no fool, love. And he says he loves her.’
    ‘But Richard as much as admitted last night that they’ve only known each other for a matter of weeks. It’s sheer madness if you ask me.’
    ‘You’re forgetting though, buttercup, I knew with you from day one,’ Alfred replied, holding Daphne’s gaze.
    ‘You old softie, come here.’ As Alfred leaned in to the tender embrace of his wife, Helen withdrew from the window, an ugly churning feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.
    How dare they presume she was nothing more than a grubby gold digger? How dare they think she had deliberately trapped their son? There she was, trying to do the right thing by the baby – by their grandchild – and they stood there accusing her of that ? She was enraged. After all, things for Richard would carry on as planned. He would finish his Architecture degree. He’d still be able to work at the family firm and carve out his illustrious career. No, it seemed obvious to Helen who was really trapped. It was she who would be giving up her dreams of travel and teaching, she who would be swapping smoky Parisian cafés and sultry Spanish sunshine for dirty nappies and sleepless nights. How dare they think her so pathetic and impoverished that she would stoop so low? Helen flung the rest of her belongings into her overnight bag. She couldn’t wait to get away from Clifftops and bloody Daphne Tide.
    Things had moved quickly after that; Helen had graduated in the summer and she and Richard were married soon after in a quiet register office ceremony in London. Cassie was born just a few months later – a tiny bundle of wrinkled pink skin, blue eyes and fuzzy golden hair. As soon as she clapped her eyes on her daughter, Helen knew she’d done the right thing. There would be plenty of time for her career, later. Then, it was simply enough to just hold her baby close and breathe in the warm, sweet scent of her. Motherhood brought with it an intense love like no other, organic and pure, and Helen felt transformed by it.
    Their daughter had an equally softening effect on Daphne Tide. To Helen’s surprise, she appeared at Helen’s bedside in London the day after the birth, carrying with her a small arrangement of late summer flowers.
    ‘From the garden at Clifftops,’ she’d explained to Helen as she handed them to a harried-looking nurse. ‘Put these in some water, would you?’ She turned back to Helen. ‘May I?’ she asked, holding out her arms for the baby and Helen, swallowing back the urge to clasp her daughter even closer to her breast, handed her over.
    ‘She’s beautiful,’ Daphne cooed, offering the baby her little finger. ‘She looks just like her father.’
    Helen allowed herself a thin smile of triumph and watched as Daphne pulled an extraordinary range of clownish faces at the baby.
    ‘Tell me, Helen, why did you choose the name Cassandra?’
    Helen shrugged. ‘I’ve always loved it. We’ll call her Cassie.’
    Daphne gave a sniff. ‘I don’t know my Classics as well as you, of course, but wasn’t Cassandra rather a tragic figure?’
    ‘Yes, in the end. But she was a princess, one of King Priam’s daughters . . . and a prophet. Besides,’ added Helen, seeing Daphne’s scepticism, ‘it’s only a name, after all.’
    The two women fell into silence, both gazing admiringly at the snuffling bundle in Daphne’s arms.
    ‘I’ve something else,’ Daphne said suddenly. ‘Something you