Freya North 3-Book Collection: Secrets, Chances, Rumours

Tess wondered why she wanted to say, and have you a Giselle there too? ‘Tea?’ she said instead.

‘Ta.’

‘Resolution.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Your home – it's a good name. Different.’

‘Next door is Endeavour.’

‘That's different too. But I prefer Resolution. I like the meaning.’

‘Not that up on British history, then?’

‘What?’

‘Resolution? Endeavour? They were the ships James Cook sailed on his voyages of discovery. This is Cook Country – he was born not far from here, just outside Middlesbrough. He sailed from Whitby – just down from here.’

Tess grasped the information. ‘Where did he go to on the Resolution? Where did he discover? When was that?’

‘1772. Cook sailed the Resolution for three years, disproved the southern continent by sailing round Antarctica and discovered Tonga and the New Hebrides. 1776 was his third and final voyage – off to the North Pacific on the Resolution to find the end of the North-West Passage which of course he didn't. But he did sail through the Bering Strait and he did discover Hawaii where, on a return visit, the natives killed him.’

Tess felt shy for her ignorance but she thanked Joe and said that Resolution was a beautiful name for a house.

‘Better than Dun Roamin',’ said Joe who appeared to Tess to be oddly immune to the romance of it all.

She thought about the house, inside and out. ‘All the windows,’ she said. ‘It's like a compass – views from every point.’

‘Well, your maritime analogy is strengthened by the fact that there are mice in the cellar and in a raging storm, the rain finds its way in through the lower windows.’ With that, he let Wolf out into the garden from the boot store off the utility room. Tess realized this must have been the way he'd come in just now. She followed him.

‘Does Wolf always go in that patch – over there? You know, “go”?’

‘Yes, he's very particular.’

‘Could you fence that part off, then?’

Joe looked at her. ‘How about I put a sign up instead. Like in municipal parks – you know, like Keep off the Grass.’

‘What – No Dogs instead?’

‘I thought more along the lines of No Children.’

There was a loaded pause between them.

‘Em can't read,’ Tess said, and her tone harked back to when she first saw Joe's dog. ‘She's only eighteen months.’

‘Wolf can't read,’ Joe said bluntly. ‘He's only a dog.’

‘You didn't say anything about a dog,’ Tess muttered.

‘Ditto child,’ said Joe. He felt curiously irritated. Not because of the child or the dog or the shit, just because this girl was doing it again. Unnerving him. Maybe it was sharing his space that caused it. Maybe those house-sitters who did the job unseen and not heard, suited him better. ‘I'm going to go to France early – tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Very good,’ she said because then she could have the place to herself.

The chill between them lasted a few moments longer but then Joe watched a whisper of vulnerability cross Tess's face.

‘Tea?’ she said though he hadn't finished his first cup.

‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘I need to crack on. We'll go through my diary in a while.’

Alone again, Tess looked out to the garden. Wolf was mooching around like a hairy metal-detector, never far from the buggy. Em's little fists were agitating the air around her.

They'll be OK, those two, Tess thought, they'll get along fine. It's not that relevant if Joe and I don't. He won't be here that often.

But she was appalled that her mind's eye had returned to the smatter of dark hair running from his stomach down to his jeans that she'd seen when he had reached up for the jug of keys.

Get your mind off that, she scolded, and fix your eye on your child outside.

And, though she had no reason to glance again at the photo on the dresser, she was helpless not to. It wasn't the hard hat or the bridge or the bare chest, it was the smile. A blend of euphoria and tenderness and utter focus. There had never been a time when someone had smiled at her like that.

Who were you smiling at, Joe? Where is she now?

‘It's a peace offering.’

Tess turns around, mortified. She is stooped over the bath with her bottom in the air and she knows her jeans are not the most flattering at the best of times. From this angle, there's no escaping builder's bum.

How long has he been standing there, holding the bottle of red wine?

‘A peace offering?’

‘I was arsey,’ Joe says, ‘before – about Wolf and the garden and Emmeline.’ He takes his eyes off Tess and focuses on the slippery pinkness and the foam Afro demarcating her daughter.

Tess scoops Em out of the bath and cocoons her in a towel. She sits down on the side of the bath not knowing what to say. ‘Well, that's OK, Joe. I was a bit – demanding. I'm just the house-sitter anyway. Not a house mate.’

Joe considers this. ‘Well, whoever you are, would you like to share a glass of wine? Save me from drinking the whole bottle?’

She felt herself ricochet between desire and reticence like a ball caught on a bagatelle. Yes, Tess wanted to say, yes please. Adult company. Someone to share an evening with. Someone with a nice stomach. Who can smile so well. Someone currently standing casually against the doorway of the bathroom just a foot or so away. But it is easier to be harsh on herself, lecturing herself as she lowers her head and rubs Em dry that she is here for a very different purpose than sewing seeds of friendship or being charmed by a member of the opposite sex. She's been rubbish at so much else over recent years, but this house might provide the fabric for her at least to be an excellent mummy and a fine house-sitter. And that'll do. That'll really do. She is not going to ask for more than that.

‘Thanks,’ she says, ‘but I'd better not. I'm a bit headachy. I'm going to have an early night.’

Chapter Five (#ulink_2b16619e-4e5b-54db-9590-be173476e65b)

When Joe shut the front door and Tess watched, unseen, as he drove away at eleven o'clock the next morning, she mourned the glass of red wine that had never been. But then Wolf sauntered by and headbutted her and Em was squawking and Tess told herself to get a grip and get on with it.

‘What'll we do, gang? Fresh air?’

Wolf, it soon transpired, would be taking Tess and Em for a walk. She didn't dare let him off the lead so he plunged and strained, dragging her and the buggy in his wake. The steep downward gradient of the hill on tarmac was onerous enough but when Wolf led them into the woods and the path became an uneven assault course of hairpin bends, it was quite terrifying. How safe she'd been in London – nothing more than the occasional raised paving stone to negotiate.