Trigger warning: Domestic violence
Author's note: I feel that the North Yorkshire accent and speech pattern is important to the setting. I hope that doesn't render it too hard to read. If you're familiar with the accent, you should imagine that June's is stronger than shown here, but I wanted to avoid making the words unreadable.
("Siling down" = raining heavily, "summat" = something, "owt/nowt" = anything/nothing, "missen" = myself)
Her hair was long, untidy, and a deep blueish green. That was her most noticeable feature. Broad shoulders encased in blue cotton came next. The sun was only a few minutes above the horizon, ahead and to the right, so her back was in shadow. The sun's trail sparkled, stretched by the inconstant surface of the sea.
June smiled. Nothing wrong with expressing your personality with a dye job. She'd been blonde for a while, before deciding it was easier to let her hair revert to its natural mousy brown. Keeping a good colour in this climate wasn't easy, and she silently applauded the green-haired woman's effort.
Soft grass and low, dark leaves didn't make much sound beneath June's feet, so she scuffed her shoes on the ground to announce her presence. The woman was sitting no more than ten feet from the cliff edge. Not a good idea to startle her.
Even so, the woman didn't show any sign of awareness. It wasn't until June reached her side that she stirred, tilting her head to look up at her. Then June was the one who was startled, by eyes the same green as her hair - easy to see why she chose that dye colour - in a copper-toned face.
"Mind if I sit?" June asked.
Holding her gaze for a moment, the woman gave her a barely perceptible nod, before turning back to her study of the North Sea as June lowered herself to the ground.
"There's not many as'd sit so close to t'edge," June offered.
The woman glanced back at June briefly before her eyes returned to the sea. "This is the best experience," she said. Her accent was subtle, but June thought it might be Norwegian. That was less common, post-Brexit, but not unheard of.
June nodded, though the woman's eyes were no longer on her. "Aye, I reckon. I like to come 'ere to watch t'dolphins. I saw a crowd of 'arbor porpoises just t'other day." There was a long silence before she added, "I live back there." She indicated behind her. The green-haired woman turned her head far enough to see. "Couple 'undred yards. I'm June."
The woman seemed to sense that more was expected than the nod she gave. After a few seconds, she said, "Rowena."
"Rowena," June mused. "That's a nice name."
This time the woman - Rowena - gave her a slight smile with her small nod.
"You backpackin'?"
Rowena raised a green eyebrow.
"Most tourists are with a group," June said. "They don't often venture onto t'cliffs alone." But then someone walking the Cleveland Way didn't usually hike in a blue summer dress. In flip-flops. June felt stupid after saying the words.
Rowena didn't react as if the comment was stupid, though. Her smile was broad and friendly, and June realised that she wasn't a young student, despite the outrageous haircolour and unlined features. Her smile held years. She may even have been older than June's thirty-eight.
"Not backpacking," she said. "Visiting. I haven't been here in some time. There have been some changes."
"Aye, that's right enough," June agreed. She cast her eyes out to the white horses on the choppy water. "Sea dun't change, though."
Rowena looked back at her. This time her smile seemed sardonic rather than carefree. "Oh, it does that."
"S'pose it does, superficially," June conceded. "Still, I'm out 'ere in all its moods. 'Cept when it's silin' down, o' course, or when wind's ready to blow me off t'cliff."
"The sea's important to you?" Rowena asked.
"Oh, aye. It is to everyone who lives 'ere. For most it's love-'ate, but I'm firmly on the side o' love. Me 'usband wouldn't agree, but he fights with it every day."
Rowena's raised eyebrows stated her question without words.
"'E 'as a boat. Lobster fishin'. Used to be 'ere, but 'e's up in Whitby now. Brexit buggered us up one last time. He tried to sell out an' get a job on a trawler, but they're dyin' even faster."
June noticed Rowena's pained expression - a wince, really - at that, but the change was brief.
"Up at crack, out 'til tide turns," June continued. Then drinking until morning. With luck, too drunk to drive home. Otherwise - well, still too drunk to drive home, but he'll do it anyway. "So I'd say 'e 'as good reason not to be too fond of it."
"And you?" Rowena asked, her expression genuinely interested.
"I 'ave a shop," June said. "Near seafront. Tourist stuff, but I like tourists. Driftwood, jet, sea glass, wishin' stones, 'ag stones, polished stones, T-shirts. And postcards, o' course. An' everything for a day at t'beach. All the shops 'ave to 'ave stuff for t'kids. So most o' what I carry comes straight from t'sea, or at least from t'beach."
"So you love the sea because of what you can sell?"
June felt mildly offended. "Oh, 'ell, no. I call t'shop 'Sea's Magic' and it in't because o' the magic stones, which are just bits o' rock. It's because it's allus there, allus unknowable, an' t'changes, t'storms, t'tides, t'currents, the 'eat an' the cold, they're only temporary, and they doan't make it any less mysterious."
She realised from Rowena's curious eyebrow that she was probably starting to sound manic rather than passionate, and felt her cheeks heat.
"An' 'ere I am goin' on about it when I need to open t'shop," she said, pushing herself to her feet. "You should stop by sometime." She grinned. "Tell me if you think there's owt magical about t'stones."
Rowena's smile was captivating, and June found herself wishing she'd said less and listened more. Though that would have required Rowena to speak more.
"I'll do that," Rowena said. "I'll remember the name."
Rowena didn't visit the shop on that day or the next, and June decided she'd only been being polite. So, when the door jingled a couple of weeks later, she was surprised to see Rowena enter.
She hadn't seen Rowena standing. Now she realised that the woman was tall, almost six feet, and her broad shoulders matched the rest of her frame. She wore a different cotton sundress, this one yellow, again with flip-flops. The dress hid her thighs, but her calves were well-muscled. There was a fine silver choker at her neck, with a small amber stone at its centre, and she carried a purse half the size of anything that June would judge useful.
"Oh, 'ey, Rowena! 'Ow do? You found us alright?"
"I had no trouble," the woman replied, in her faint Scandinavian accent.
"Alright! 'Ave a look around. Would you like to go get a cup o' tea in a few minutes?" She turned to her assistant. "You'd be alright to look after t'place for a while, right, 'Olly, luv?"
"I've got you, Mrs. Jackson," the young woman said. "I can allus call if summat's up."
Most of the items for sale were produced by local craftspersons, artists and silversmiths. Sea glass is beautiful in itself, and plentiful, but set in silver filigree, or with multiple pieces in different colours in a silver and glass frame, it can compare to art created with fine jewels. These were the most expensive pieces in the shop. Books on whaling, fishing, and local history did not sell like they had before ebooks and audio books became the norm, but well enough to justify keeping the bookshelves.
Several of the less-glacial sales were books of local magical legends, some delicate, others brutal. Unlike their authors, June had no belief in their historicity, but admired their authors' imagination.
Rowena was looking at a set of tarot cards created by a local artist. One box was open for examination, and she was studying the faces of each card critically. The rear of the cards were phases of the moon symbols in dark blue, while both the minor and major arcana suggested coastal or nautical themes. Some of these seemed to elicit the same kind of pained expression June had seen on the clifftop, while others made her smile.
Returning the cards to their case, Rowena made no comment, but turned immediately to the tray of hagstones.
"We doan't make much from 'em," June said, "but they're allus popular, and when the kids decide they want a stone with 'ole in it, their parents are lookin' at what jet jewelry or other trinkets to buy."
Rowena smiled at her. "Well, you did ask me to evaluate them for magical properties."
"Aye, but that were only to get you to come an' see me. I'm glad you did."
"Still..." Rowena said, picking up one of the stones. She held the hole to her eye and turned around. "Well, either this one doesn't work, or there are no fae creatures in your store, June."
June laughed. She was surprised at the warmth she'd felt when Rowena had said her name. "Both, more likely."
"Probably," the tall woman agreed. "But, you know, a stone you buy or someone gives to you doesn't have the power of one you collect for yourself."
June blinked in surprise. "Oh, you know summat about 'em?"
"A little," Rowena agreed. She looked through another stone, then set it aside. "That one has potential. I'm sure none of these were created by serpents."
"Right."
Rowena picked up another stone, scanned the room through it, and then used it to look directly at June, who felt a strange inward flutter at her action.
"This one, too," Rowena said, after a moment. She set it down with the other stone she'd put aside.
"Oh, you like that one?" June asked. "I recognise it. It's one I found missen."
Rowena raised an eyebrow. Taking the stone, she pressed it into June's hands. June's fingers curled around it automatically, brushing against Rowena as she withdrew her hand. "You should not sell this one. You collected it yourself, and it has some power. Tie a red thread to it and hang it on your door to protect your home from evil."
June's hand tightened further around the stone. She hoped the woman hadn't noticed. She didn't believe in any magical effect, but protection from evil... yeah, she could use that.
"I'll do that," she said, her voice sounding unsteady to her ears. She picked up her purse from behind the counter and tucked the stone into it. "Shall we, uh, go get that cuppa?"
The sharp, not unpleasant odor of freshly boiled shrimp collided with the warmer aroma of fish and chips which hung around the row of beachfront shops. June set the two paper cups of tea she carried down on the open-air table before the tea shop kiosk, but still winced as she lowered herself into the metal and canvas chair.
"Are you hurt?" Rowena's question was immediate; her concern clear.
"I, uh, smacked me leg against t'dishwasher," June lied. "I 'ave all sorts o' bruises there, now. Bloody mod cons, right?"
Rowena continued to study her for a while, frowning, before paying attention to her own tea.
When June next saw Rowena, the small stone had been hanging from her front door by a red thread for over a week. It didn't seem to have helped.
This time they walked. Rowena wasn't comfortable with crowds, so they headed away from the front, up the slope to the clifftop. It was a mistake. Walking along the street was fine, but the effort of the steep rise made her favour her right leg.
"You're hurt again, June."
Even though she liked hearing her name on Rowena's lips, she wished the woman hadn't spoken.
"I tried to take a shortcut through me oven," June said, with a nervous laugh. "It's only been there since before I were born. So I banged me 'ip." She rubbed her right hip ruefully. It was quite close to the painful spot.
They sat a few feet from the cliff edge again. The tide was higher than the last time, but the sea was almost calm. Some vast container ship was breaking the skyline. A few small fishing boats plied closer waters, perspective making them seem speedy compared to the distant monster.
"You seem very pensive today, June," said Rowena, her gaze on the horizon.
June wasn't sure if she should brush the comment off. Finally, she said, "I 'ave a lot on me mind."
"What's on your mind?" Rowena asked.
June considered her reply. The woman was becoming a friend, wasn't she? She didn't want to lie to her, and it would be okay if she didn't go into too much detail. So after some time, she replied.
"Colin - me 'usband - wants us to move closer to 'is work. I don't want to leave. An' if I do, I won't 'ave a car, so I won't be able to manage t'shop. Colin dun't like to take no for an answer."
"Does the shop make a profit?"
"Aye. It in't a lot, but it's better'n nowt. It'd be 'ard to manage without it."
Rowena had turned to observe her now. June didn't seem able to tear her eyes from the woman. She thought that Rowena's glance flicked down to her mouth for a second, and the movement seemed to free her. She forced herself to look straight ahead.
"Colin doesn't understand that?"
"I don't know. It's 'ard to argue with 'im when 'e's in that mood." June didn't need to specify why it was hard to reason with him, did she?
"What mood?"
Shit. June had walked into that one. "In an arguin' mood," she said. Before Rowena could tie her in further knots, she added, "We should be going. 'Olly needs 'er own break."
On Rowena's next visit, June persuaded her to get an ice cream, which involved navigating more tourists to the kiosk beside the tea shop, but the crowds were small. On tasting the cold confection, Rowena's eyes lit up.
June was shocked both at her friend's delight and at the thrill she felt seeing it. "You've never 'ad ice cream?"
"I never had a reason to try," Rowena said.
That seemed strange. Wouldn't her parents have allowed her an occasional treat when she was a child? But then, some parents were arseholes.
Her musings didn't prevent June from watching the joy in Rowena's distinctive sea green eyes. She was surprised at the warmth she felt as she watched her scrape every last streak of now-melting goodness from the tub, and had no notion of why her heart seemed to race as her friend's tongue scoured the spoon or circled her lips to find every drop.
Grinning nervously, June rose from the table, returning a moment later with paper cups from the tea kiosk. She removed the lid and blew on her tea, which returned the dark aroma of a brew that was fresh but far too strong. Seaside tea, her mum used to call it. It was everyday tea for June, but she loved it just the same.
"Nowt better'n tea by t'sea," she said, another gift of her mum. To Rowena's evident amusement, she took a goodly mouthful of the dark liquid, still slightly too hot, before fastening the lid back to the cup. She wondered briefly if the woman liked watching her as much as she appreciated observing Rowena.
Did her heart race, too?
"Next time you're 'ere I'll get you a ninety-nine," June said. "If you 'an't 'ad ice cream, you definitely 'an't 'ad a ninety-nine."
Rowena raised an eyebrow.
"It's ice cream with a Flake. Chocolate, that is," June added, seeing that Rowena showed no understanding. Her parents must have been a right pair of pillocks. "Don't worry about it. You'll like it."
"Next time..." Rowena frowned. "It will be closing day for your shop. Will you not want to spend the day off with your husband?"
June hoped she kept the sudden stab of pain from her features. "No, 'e'll be workin'. Usually is, unless t'weather gets up. 'Appen we can get a cup o' tea at the 'ouse."
June had arranged to meet Rowena at the ice cream kiosk. True to her word, she bought two ninety-nines. Only after they started to walk towards the house did she realise that if Rowena had never eaten an ice cream before, that meant that she'd never eaten an ice cream in a cone before. And now she'd presented her with the additional problem of handling a crumbly chocolate stick while navigating ice cream and cone.
The day was overcast and chilly, so, fortunately, the ice cream was slow to melt as they walked up the hill. Rowena's efforts were adorable. She tried dipping the Flake into the ice cream and eating the chocolate from it as they walked, but the surface was hard and the Flake crunched with the cold, so chocolate dust flew. She didn't seem to mind. Her expression was as rapturous as it had been when she'd had her first taste of ice cream.
Her fascination with the cone distracted her from noticing the limp that June wasn't quite succeeding at hiding.
At the top of the hill, June suggested that they finish their cones on the clifftop. "I already brewed tea. I'll bring it out wi' summat for your sticky bits," she said, with a grin, glancing at Rowena's fingers, which had taken on a glaze with embedded chocolate fragments.
"That'll prevent me from spoiling your furniture," Rowena said, with a nod.
She turned towards the cliff path, while June headed for the house, returning in a few minutes with two heavy mugs and a kitchen roll. She found the tall woman holding about half of her original cone, pushing ice cream down into it with her tongue. Seeing her friend's tongue extended with a rapt expression on her face gave June an unexpected thrill, which only intensified when Rowena looked up and caught her eye. June willed her breath to steady as she set the mugs down on the grass and sat beside her friend.
Rowena nibbled on the edge of the much-diminished cone. "It's good that you didn't bring me inside," she said, splaying the fingers of her free hand for inspection.
June laughed. "It'll get easier wi' practice," she said.
"I hope that's an offer," Rowena said, her expression playful.
"Oh, aye, lass, I like watchin' the way you enjoy it. 'Appen we'll try some different flavours. Or an ice lolly."
June had a vision of the woman's extended tongue sweeping over an ice lolly, and her heart raced again. Whatever showed on her face caught her friend's attention, and her unique eyes seemed to darken. June looked away, feeling embarrassed. When she turned back, Rowena was feeding the last of the cone between her lips, which didn't help her racing heart in the slightest. She picked up her mug and took a large swallow of her tea.
Rowena held up both hands. "So, now...?"
June grinned and put her mug back down. "Now the cleanup. I don't know as I've seen children as messy as you now."
"As you say, I need to practise."
Taking a sheet of soft paper from the roll, June reached for Rowena's right hand. She should just hand her the paper, but she found herself wanting to do this for her. The coating of ice cream was drying, though, and she couldn't do much with the paper alone.
Almost without thinking, she slipped the woman's index finger between her lips to suck it clean of sticky ice cream and chocolate. Only when the finger was engulfed by her mouth did the reality of what she'd done crash into her. Guiltily, she raised her eyes to her friend's, seeing shock, and... something more, behind wide pupils. No sign of distaste, though. Quite the opposite.
It would be doubly embarrassing to acknowledge her mistake, so she continued to suck the finger, until she could feel nothing but skin against her tongue.
Nervously, she glanced at Rowena before moving on to the next finger. Her friend made no move to stop or to encourage her, so, for the same reason, she pressed it between her lips.
Rowena's lips parted slightly as she slid the finger in and out of her mouth. It tasted of vanilla and chocolate, with the gentlest hint of salt. She'd never tasted a woman's skin before - except her own, for the same purpose. It was strange to realise that another woman had a different flavour.
As June worked her way through the fingers of her friend's left hand, she noticed that Rowena's face seemed a little flushed. She thought she might have heard a soft moan, but it could have been a trick of the gusting breeze.
When she'd released Rowena's last finger, she handed her the kitchen paper.
"Th - thank you," the woman said, her stutter making June's breath catch.
Now Rowena seemed the nervous one. Her face again seemed flushed. June's eyes roamed over her, noticing for the first time that her sun dress was failing to hide the shapes of long, wide nipples. Had it always looked like that? Had the feelings growing within her made her more observant of the woman's shape?
"There's just one place remaining," Rowena said. Her tone seemed a little diffident, and deeper than it had been a few minutes ago. When June looked up, she ran a finger over her lips and the front of her cheeks.
June's heart rate bumped higher. "You want me t'lick your face clean?" she asked.
"Only where it's sticky," murmured Rowena. "I think you can tell where that is."
"Uh, alright." June leaned in close, her shoulder pressing against her friends. She reached out to grip her knee for stability, then extended her tongue and began to lick around her lips. The skin was definitely sticky, but nothing like her fingers had been.
Along with the aromas of the ice cream cone, she sensed Rowena's delicate fragrance. There was no bottled artifice, just the scent of a fresh breeze on a cool day.
As her tongue travelled over Rowena's lips, she sensed the woman panting softly. Feeling something damp touch her tongue, she froze, then felt a rush of desire as Rowena's tongue stroked hers.
It wasn't a kiss. It was less than that, and more, a tentative caress that June finally responded to, letting her tongue move against Rowena's. The desire in her chest bloomed, and she felt her own breathing becoming heavy. She needed to close the distance, to press her lips to Rowena's, but she held back until the urge became overwhelming.
Moving her hand from the tall woman's knee to the grass beside her, June turned her upper body towards Rowena, beginning to lean in...
And yelped in pain.
Rowena instantly leaned away. "What is it?"
"It's..."
But need and confusion robbed her of her ready-made excuses. "It's..."
Rowena's strong hands gripped her upper arms. "June. Is it your husband?"
June panicked. She thought that she'd had better control of her situation. But she'd already decided that while she was okay with keeping her secrets from Rowena, she wasn't going to lie to her.
In a small voice, she said, "'E... 'e in't a bad man."
Rowena pressed a finger under her chin, and lifted her face, forcing her to meet her eyes. "June. One thing I've learned over the years. Good men don't hit women. Ever."
"But 'e works so 'ard, an' I'm the one as won't move."
"Then he should move by himself," Rowena stated. "Anything but hit you."
"Aye, I know," June finally admitted. "I really do. But I can't change 'im."
"Then you should leave. You need to protect yourself."
"But t'shop... an' town. This is me 'ome."
June shifted to look out over the clifftop. The secret was out, now. She felt a deep sadness that her friend had been brought into it. She picked up her mug. A moment later, Rowena did the same, then shuffled up to sit beside her, their bodies touching.
The breeze on the clifftop was fresh. White horses dotted the sea surface, forming, sometimes colliding, vanishing, only for others to arise. A lone fishing boat rode noticeable swells. A different cargo ship moved slowly, this one short of the horizon. Gulls skirled and screamed below the cliffs. One adventurous bird eyed them from the ground, a few feet away, but without the cones there was nothing for it to plunder.
"How long has it been going on?" Rowena asked.
"On an' off... years," June admitted. "Mostly from when 'e 'ad t' move. 'E started drinkin' more in town. Lately it's been... mebbe every few weeks. Summat sets 'im off. It might not even be me not movin'." After a pause, she added, "Yeah, it's gettin' worse. An' I doan't know what t'do, 'cause I doan't want to leave with 'im or without 'im."
"Can anyone take over the shop for a time?"
"You offerin'?" June asked, feeling a touch of her usual humour.
"I can't," her friend said. "I can't be here most of the time."
"Aye, I noticed that. Your visits are allus spaced out."
"I have other commitments," Rowena said, her expression resigned. "I can stay a day or two longer, if I need, but I always have to leave." She sipped at her tea.
As curious as June was, she didn't pry. If Rowena wanted to tell her about her life away from here, she would.
"You need to find a way to get away, somehow," Rowena added.
"Aye, I reckon I do," said June.
They remained silent for several minutes. The tea had cooled quickly in the breeze, and Rowena's must have been as cold as June's when she finished it.
"D'you want t'come in for a warmup?" June asked, eventually. "You 'ave to be freezin' in that dress."
"My inner passion keeps me warm," Rowena said, and though her tone was pure irony, June felt an echo of her earlier feelings. "Do you want me to do something about your pain?"
"What could you do?"
"In spite of your store name, you don't believe in magic," Rowena said, "so let's say I have talented fingers. For dealing with hurts, I mean," she added, quickly.
June glanced out over the choppy sea one last time, then picked up both mugs and the kitchen roll, turning to lead the way to her house.
Rowena glanced at the hagstone in the door with some consideration before following June into the dark brick terraced house. Perhaps she was wondering if there was any way the stone would protect from physical harm. Perhaps, like June, she was thinking that magical protection was crap.
Before doing anything else, June brewed more tea, and only when she'd refilled their mugs did she sit with Rowena on the small couch, waiting for the inevitable interrogation.
It didn't come. Instead, the green-haired woman asked only where she was hurting.
"Here," said June, running her fingers down her outer left thigh, below her hip.
Rowena's hand approached her leg, her eyes asking permission. When June nodded, the hand followed the path June's fingers had taken, causing her to wince in pain.
Then the hand moved away, and Rowena leaned back.
"I... didn't think this through."
"What d'you mean?"
Rowena was clearly flustered. "I need to touch your skin. You'd have to take your trousers off."
"Oh." June understood her friend's reticence. "Oh, um, right, then."
She reached for her belt buckle, but Rowena touched her arm. "Do you want to cover up? I only need to touch the injury."
"Alright." She stood, stepped out of her shoes, then left the room, returning in a moment with a large towel. Rowena looked away as she stripped off her jeans, then sat, adjusting the towel to hide her thighs and black knickers. She peeled back the towel on the left to show what was still an angry bruise. A long splotch of purple and red stretched out over her thigh. It was hard for June to see. It would be harder for her friend. "I'm ready."
Rowena turned around. June was right. Her eyes flared with anger, and she was clearly holding back on saying something they might both regret. Instead, she took a deep breath and extended her hand. "May I?"
June nodded, not wanting to speak, and Rowena's fingers stroked along the bruise.
The touch didn't cause pain to flare this time, even when her friend's fingers pressed more firmly against June's skin. Rowena added her other hand, stretching out the skin in different directions, and making complex firm caresses. Over the next ten minutes, June felt the pain fade, to be replaced with a soft warmth. She thought it was the warmth of Rowena's hands, but it seemed to be growing within her injured muscle. A glow of healing. It left her relaxed, and a little aroused. Or maybe that was just Rowena's closeness and the games they'd played on the clifftop.
"That feels amazin'," June whispered, as Rowena withdrew her fingers. She could barely remember the pain now. The towel was sliding down to cover her leg, but she pulled it back far enough to look at the bruise, finding that it had faded to a pale yellow. "You said it in't magic?"
Rowena laughed. "You said it isn't magic, because magic isn't real."
"I said the sea's magic." June argued. "'Appen you're a piece o' driftwood, or a wishin' stone. Think you might wish away the one on me back?"
"I was going to ask if there were more," Rowena said. "You've been going through this for a long time."
"Aye, I 'ave." It was easier to confess now that her friend knew the truth. She squirmed around to face the back of the couch, one hand on the towel to keep her knickers hidden. Then she tugged up her T-shirt, exposing the bruise on her upper back. "I don't know 'ow this looks anymore. It's older."
"I see that," Rowena agreed. She traced her fingertips over June's skin. Some places still twinged, even with a light touch.
"Is the band too 'eavy? Shall I undo me bra?"
"That would help, yes."
So June reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, leaving the straps dangling. Rowena could move them aside as needed.
Then fingers began to move against her skin. Just as before, the touch became heavier, and even the places where Rowena's exploratory touch had brought pain no longer did so. Instead, heat suffused her back.
This woman could make her fortune as a touch therapist. But then, maybe that's what she did for a living. June still knew nothing about her life, and she suspected that she never would.
Rowena's healing touch must have been making her blood flow faster. Building on the feelings that grew when Rowena's tongue stroked hers, that might account for the way the warmth made her heart race, and her nipples and clit grow firm and sensitive.
Remembering that near kiss made her heart speed up further, and she had to suppress a moan. June didn't recall ever being so turned on. Surely with Colin, in the early days? But if so, she didn't remember it, and now, thoughts of him helped stifle her arousal. The idea that she'd found a use for him almost made her laugh, but she held back, not wanting to have to explain to her friend.
Eventually, the fingers left her back. June let out a breath of relief, willing it not to turn into a moan, then reached behind to fasten her bra. One hand on her towel, she stood, caught Rowena's hand and drew her close.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Rowena's eyes were dark, the blue-green of the depths. They seemed to be drinking in the sight of June's face, as close as it was to them. "I'm glad I can help," she said, softly.
June needed more. She needed to show Rowena how grateful she was, not only for the healing touch, but for her empathy and friendship. She stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the side of her mouth.
Either her mind betrayed her, or Rowena turned slightly to see what she was doing, because her lips met Rowena's directly. Her desire to taste the woman wouldn't let her admit to a mistake and back away, especially when Rowena's lips parted to welcome her, and her free hand slipped around June's back.
An upwelling of desire filled June's chest, and she pressed into the kiss. The meeting of their tongues fulfilled the promise of their earlier games. She moaned, her excitement doubling when Rowena did the same.
June dropped the hand she was holding to move both of hers to the tall woman's back, ignoring the towel, which slowly slipped from between them. She caressed every inch of Rowena's back, discovering that there was nothing beneath it. No bra. No knickers. Nothing but skin, which felt as silk-smooth as the part she could see.
She'd never kissed a woman before. Certainly never made out with one. Yet her hands were drawn forwards by the magnetic pull of the other woman's breasts. Rowena moaned again as she cupped them, drawing her thumbs over the protruding nipples she'd noticed earlier. They were hard like chalk pebbles, and flicking them made her friend groan.
Not being able to touch Rowena's skin directly was suddenly intolerable. June bunched up her friend's dress, lifting it up to her hips. She was grateful when Rowena's arms rose for her to pull it off and toss it aside.
The woman before her was magnificent. Clad in nothing but her silver choker, her breasts were high and firm, her skin unblemished, and her build athletic. Her copper-toned skin held no trace of tan lines anywhere. Even in the most dour Yorkshire summer, it was hard to avoid the sun completely. Nor was there much opportunity to even out a tan by exposing your all to the sun's rays.
Rowena's sex was entirely hairless, as were her legs. She had the form of a goddess of ancient Greece or Egypt, and June had never seen a sight so beautiful, apart, possibly, from the wild beauty of the sea itself at its most intimidating.
Reaching back, June unclasped her own bra. Again. She was nervous about continuing, not from modesty, but because of how poorly her body compared to the lithe woman's. Still, Rowena's eyes seemed to be telling a different story, so she pulled the straps down her arms and dropped the bra to the floor. The other woman's expression told her she needn't have been concerned.
She wrapped her arms around Rowena again, burying her face in the woman's neck. Rowena's scent was a stiff breeze over the breakers, and her skin, when June kissed her neck, had a taste entirely different from a man's - delicate, with a hint of salt.
From here, June didn't know what to do. Should she confess her inexperience? But fingers tugged her knickers down, then slid between her thighs. It seemed that Rowena did know.
Rowena eased her onto the sofa. After pulling June's underwear all the way off, she parted June's legs, then slid into place beside her, their mouths meeting as her fingers caressed the fur of June's pussy. The feelings those fingers brought to life were like nothing June had ever experienced. Desire built in her chest and need between her legs as she moaned into the kiss. Rowena's breast brushed against June's, sending electric charges through her sensitive nipple. Her world contracted to her awareness of Rowena's mouth, breast and fingers, and her body responded on its own, thighs squirming and hips rocking.
Rowena's fingers slipped inside her, exploring, and her hand ground against her clit. June panted. She could barely recognise what was approaching as an orgasm. They were never so intense. So consuming. But when it crashed into her, she knew it for what it was. The pulsing sent warmth into her body - warmth not entirely unlike Rowena's healing touch.
The warmth stayed with her as Rowena withdrew. June reached out for the woman's hard nipple, toying with it lazily.
"Bugger me, Rowena," she said, softly. "'an't ever felt nowt like that. Can I do it to you?"
Rowena leant in to give her a soft kiss. "Next time, June. I should be going."
June pouted. "Next time won't be closin' day."
"Can Holly cover for longer?"
"Oh, aye, I reckon she could run the shop by 'erself. I doan't think I want 'er to know that. What day will it be?"
After a moment's thought, Rowena said, "Thursday, the week after next." Then she stood and picked up her sundress, slipping it on in one motion. No bra, no knickers, naked to fully dressed in less than five seconds. Thanks to her inner passion, she claimed.
June chuckled. "I'll see you then."
June spent the rest of the afternoon in a near trance. The afterglow of Rowena's touch stayed with her, the feelings she'd had, naked with her new lover, never far from her thoughts. She'd never felt attracted to a woman before, but the thrill of Rowena's tongue touching hers felt so perfectly natural that not for a second had she felt any kind of discomfort between them.
After sunset, she brewed herself a large mug of tea, then took it out to the clifftop. As close to the edge as she liked to sit, this wouldn't be a good place to be if Colin came home and tried to find her. This place had always been special to her, but her green-haired, green-eyed temptress had made it magical . It was here, she was coming to believe, that her life had begun to change.
Dusk became full night, and the air chilled enough that memories of eating ice cream should have been uncomfortable. Instead, they warmed her.
The lighthouse on the headland flashed its unceasing sequence with perfect regularity. Other, fainter lights pulsed their own rhythms. When June was younger, she would imagine the lighthouses and beacons were talking to each other, as their signals drifted into sync, then diverged. Now she felt that her life was being pulled into sync with her lover's visits. Even before the ice cream, she now realised, she'd been craving Rowena's company, waiting for the next day their patterns aligned.
Her mug had been empty for over an hour when she returned to the house.
As promised, Rowena arrived at the shop late on Thursday morning. She immediately noticed June's dark glasses. Striding angrily across the floor, she stood where her back would block Holly's view of her actions as she raised a finger to touch June's eye socket. Her expression darkened further, and June looked away.
"You're okay for a few hours, right, luv?"
"Aye, aye, cap'n! We're all shipshape 'ere!"
June grinned at her assistant's behaviour, in spite of her friend's angry glare, then left the shop.
"He's getting worse, isn't he?" Rowena hissed.
June took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. She nodded once. "It were a bad 'un. Last weekend."
"You have to get out," Rowena said.
"Let's get tea for t'walk," June said. "We can talk about it at 'ome."
The day had been cold and especially blustery. The ice cream kiosk hadn't opened, and with the way waves were cresting the sea wall, June thought the tea shop might close soon, too. Not before she'd acquired two paper cups of strong, brown liquid, fortunately.
Some children were standing by the railing on the sea wall, waiting for the splash when a large wave met its end at the concrete. Their mother was keeping a safe distance from the spray. When the kids were splashed, they screamed at the cold and ran to her, but they soon returned.
Visibility was poor, and they couldn't see any fishing boats, but Colin would be out there. He didn't lack courage, even if he did lack restraint.
They stayed on the dry side of the street. June wasn't averse to a little splashing herself - just another aspect of her mysterious sea - but Rowena wore only her dress, and there was no way her purse could hold an umbrella or raincoat. The tea kept June's hands warm in the strong breeze, but Rowena seemed barely to notice the way her dress flapped around her.
"Do you have anywhere you can go?" Rowena asked. "Anywhere you'd be safe from him?"
"I could go to me mum's," June said. "She lives in Bradford now. But it's almost 'undred miles. I couldn't keep t'shop."
"Could Holly keep the shop open by herself? She seems capable."
"Aye, 'appen," June said. "I could trust 'er wi' cash, an' do t'books for 'er. She'd need 'elp, an' I can't afford another assistant."
"For a short time? Until you get some legal protection from your husband? Sit down."
June obeyed, sitting on the small couch. "Mebbe? It wouldn't be easy.."
Rowena took off June's dark glasses, set them aside, then traced her fingers around her eye. "It would be better than being dead. And you know it's going that way. I can help with this bruise, but I can't help you with dead."
June sighed. "I'll start workin' on it. I know you're right. I do. But leavin' might bugger me up anyway." She brightened for a moment. "Could you visit me in Bradford?"
Rowena shook her head, sadly. "It wouldn't be possible. But you'll come back here. I'll wait for you."
June felt the heat rising around her eye. She hoped Rowena could work through tears, because they were rising too. "I 'ope so."
"Are you angry wi' me?" June asked, when Rowena's fingers left her face. There was no trace of the pain around her eye, or the headache she'd been dealing with for days after the injury.
Rowena laughed softly. "I wish I could be. I wish I could yell at you and make you change. But you're doing the best that you can."
"Good," said June, "because you promised I could touch you."
"I did." Rowena gave her a look that June could only think of as mischievous. "Don't you want to brew tea first? You always want tea before anything."
"I'll wait. 'Cause I'm sure I'll need tea afterwards."
Knowing the day of Rowena's visit in advance had allowed June to prepare. She'd tidied the bedroom in the past few days, moving any of Colin's possessions out of sight, then replaced all of the bedsheets in the morning. Yes, she knew this was cheating, and just a couple of months ago she'd have felt guilty for even considering it - not that she'd have considered cheating with a woman - but since Colin's decision to lash out at her for being unwilling to move, he'd lost any right to her body, her love, or her respect.
So she led this mysterious woman, who had so bewitched her - without the bewitching part, of course, into the bedroom, wrapped her arms around her and kissed her.
Rowena responded enthusiastically, and June felt her desire for the woman rising.
Instead of removing her lover's single item of clothing, June stepped back and began to unfasten her own blouse. Rowena's reaction to June's less-than-pristine body had been so positive and so exciting, she deserved to experience a show.
June removed the belt of her skirt and her heavy shoes before parting her unfastened shirt. She'd selected the sexiest bra she owned - nothing exotic, just a flowery, quite heavily-constructed demi-cup - and now she slid the blouse off her shoulders to reveal it.
She ran her fingers around the outside of the bra, then asked, softly, "Do you want to remove it, or do you want me to do it?"
Rowena seemed tongue-tied. She nodded, then, apparently realising that wasn't an answer, said, "You do it."
Unfastening the back, then slowly pushing the straps down her arms, June obliged her. When it was gone, she grinned at Rowena for a moment, hands behind her back, before unhooking the catch of her skirt.
Sliding down her knickers was the hardest part. Rowena had done that last time, and June didn't know how she'd react. Especially with the woman's flawlessly hairless pussy compared to June's lightly-trimmed bush. She felt her cheeks warm as her lover's gaze remained every bit as fascinated with her as it had been last time.
Before she could begin to undress Rowena, the woman was kissing her again, passionately. June felt a little overwhelmed by this response, and deeply aroused by it. She could feel a tingling in her pussy, and a single pass of Rowena's fingers over it showed how slick she'd become.
When Rowena lowered her face to June's breasts, kissing them and lightly biting her nipples, June's arousal spiked so high she felt she'd lose her footing. Perhaps sensing that, Rowena guided her to the bed, making her lie on her back, before she shrugged out of today's dress and lay against her.
"You'll 'ave to show me what to do," June said. "I 'an't ever done this before. I just remember some o' what you did to me."
"You'll be fine," Rowena said, "but of course I'll be happy to help you."
Soon, with very little guidance from her lover, June was kissing Rowena's hard nipples, while grinding the heel of her thumb against her mons, the sounds Rowena was making turning her insides to jelly. She did pause to ask how to put her fingers inside, but to her surprise found she mostly already knew. The questions seemed to add to Rowena's excitement, so June told her what she wanted to do and followed her instructions.
"Kiss me," Rowena groaned.
June did, her fingers still buried inside Rowena, her thumb caressing her clit. When Rowena came, she cried into the kiss, her arms wrapped around June so that she couldn't break away, and June's affection for the woman soared.
Rowena held her hand as she came down from her orgasmic high, her thumb brushing against June's fingers. After a time, she turned towards June with a devilish smile. "Now I'm going to show you something you've never tried alone."
Twenty minutes later, June lay on her back. Aftershocks still made her body twitch occasionally, and she was convinced that cunnilingus was God's greatest gift to womankind.
Hours later - she was really going to have to give Holly a bonus - June brought up the thought she'd had earlier. "Did you bewitch me?"
"What?" Rowena's voice sounded amused.
"You 'ave this 'ealin' touch that I don't think can be magic, but you act like it is, right? Did you use summat like it to put t'fluence on me so I'd fall for you? 'Cause I reckon it's workin'."
Rowena grinned at her words. "No, June. I swear I never did anything to you beyond calm some of your aches."
"Aye, that's what I thought, but it's going to be bloody 'ard to be away from you, you know?"
Rowena sighed. "I told you, I'll wait for you. It's not going to be easy for me, either."
June grinned. She turned towards her lover. "Well, if you did use t'fluence, you buggered up both of us."
Rowena joined her soft laugh.
They'd both dressed, and June was ready to return to work. Rowena wasn't quite done with her, though.
"You're going to have to be extra careful until you leave," she said. "Especially if he's growing more violent."
"Aye, I know. You make me feel less scared, though. I know I can do it."
"Do you have a pen and paper?"
June found a pen and a small notebook. In perfect copperplate, Rowena wrote down a local business name and number.
"I can't give you a way to contact me directly, but they can get messages to me. If anything happens, tell them. I won't be able to come, but I might be able to arrange for help. I can't promise anything, so you really need to be careful."
"You must be a secret agent or summat," June said. "I've wondered about your mysterious life. This is MI6, right?" She grinned.
"Something like that," said Rowena.
When June next saw her lover, she told her she'd made some plans. She couldn't tell anyone else, not even her mum or Holly, but she'd arranged for her bank to pay Holly directly. She already had keys. She'd need to find a way to rent a car, pack what she needed, and drive to Bradford.
"When do you plan to do it?" Rowena asked.
"Soon. I should 'ave all new accounts by t'end o' week."
Rowena glanced at a nautical calendar on the wall. "I could be here on closing day in four weeks if you need help to pack your belongings and give you some support."
"Oh, that'd be grand. It should give me plenty o' time for last minute problems. I can keep Colin in t'dark until then. Pretend I'm reconsiderin' movin' or summat."
"If he does seriously hurt you, I'm going to find him. He's going to answer to me," she said, calmly.
"You and MI6?" June joked.
"Something like that," said Rowena.
Closing day arrived, and a storm was coming in. It had been predicted to be a few days out, but had moved faster than expected. Not an unusual phenomenon.
Rowena had arrived at her house in the late morning, her simple dress a bright red, and they'd spent a couple of hours wishing each other goodbye, even though that meant that the storm would be bad when June would be leaving. There was no way to know when - or even if - they'd see each other again, and they deserved the time.
Then they'd worked through checklists of what June had needed to pack, ensuring it was in the rental vehicle, and what she needed to do before leaving. Everything took longer than she'd hoped. She was about to give Rowena one last kiss before driving away when the front door opened.
Colin was medium height, but burly, muscled from spending dawn to dusk fighting the sea. His hair was prematurely grey; his face already heavily lined in his early forties. His clothes were soaking wet from the heavy rain. He glared around the room.
"What's goin' on?" Colin's roar had been developed in force eight gales.
"Why are you here?" June asked, panic rising.
"Fuckin' storm," he said, sharply. "We can't put out in this. Fuck's goin' on?" he asked again. "An' who's she?"
"I'm going away for, um, a few days," June said. "I need some time by missen."
"Are you fuckin' leavin' me?" The volume of his voice rose even higher. "I told you I'd fuckin' kill you if you ever tried to leave."
Colin had come all the way into the room. June had edged towards the door, but there was no way she'd be able to get out.
"Go, June," said Rowena, stepping between them. "I think this is your last chance."
June glanced between them, then nodded and ran for the door.
"Who the fuck are you?" Colin yelled. "If you've put her up to this, I'll fuckin'..."
Any other words were cut off by the shriek of the gale. June leapt into the rented SUV, checked that she had her keys and her purse, then started the engine and locked the door.
Rowena might be close to a match for Colin in strength, but not in brawling. If she restrained him long enough for June to get away, he would kill her. She dithered, not knowing whether to drive away at high speed or wait for her.
A moment later, her husband left the house, followed by a limping Rowena. June lowered the car window a couple of inches, then yelled, "Get in the car!" to Rowena. She left the passenger door locked, in case Colin moved to that side, but as she expected, he came straight for her, grabbing the partially open window.
"Get out of the fucking car!" he roared.
Rowena had run to the passenger side. Taking great care not to press the wrong button, June unlocked the passenger door, then hit the button to raise the window. Colin released it before either the window motors or June's driving away severed his fingers. He ran to his own small Fiat.
"I'll drive through t'town. If I get on t'main road, 'e's crazy enough to 'it us," June said. "Get your seatbelt on."
Rowena was staring at the belt, trying to decide how it worked.
June didn't know what the problem was with the seatbelt, but she didn't want to lose Rowena to an accident while she was being chased by a crazy driver, so she brought the car to a stop, dragged the seatbelt around Rowena, and slammed her foot to the floor. They were both soaking from the run to the car, and June hoped she could avoid being distracted by the way her lover's wet dress had glued itself to every curve.
She could have Rowena call the police, but that would leave her trapped in her small town, and Colin would probably find a way to get to her.
She thought she could lose him in the streets. She knew the place far better than he did. The problem was, there weren't many streets to choose from. And the rain was falling fast enough now to make it hard to see, even with the wipers at maximum.
After a few turns, she relaxed a little. There were no lights in the mirror. From here, the way out of town was back up the slope near her house, but as she approached it, she saw the Fiat waiting. She steered left instead of right, putting her on the beach road.
The lights of the Fiat immediately started moving, approaching faster than she could safely drive. Fuck!
And then there was worse ahead. It wasn't just gale force storm winds. The tide was high, and a high tide at this time of day meant it was a spring tide. Extra high, with waves driven by the gale. She could see that water had topped the sea wall and flooded the street.
She might be able to make it through. The water across the road didn't look deep, but she'd have to slow. So would Colin. Maybe his car would founder - it was smaller than her rental - but she couldn't pin any hopes on that.
He did slow, but not enough. June was moving at less than twenty-five when the lights closed with her. The impact was from behind and to the side. Quite gentle, but the Fiat continued to push, spinning the SUV sideways, so it headed towards the businesses on the side of the road. When it stopped, she had no room to manoeuvre. She tried for a moment, but pushing back on the Fiat only seemed to lock the SUV into position.
Colin had opened the Fiat's boot. A moment later he was hefting a large hammer, heading for the SUV.
Rowena was clearly as panicked as June. "You need to run away," she shouted to June. "I'll get that away from him, but you have to leave the car and run!" She leapt out of the car, running around the back in her flip-flops in over six inches of water, to grab Colin's hammer. Using it, she dragged him away from the vehicle.
"Run!" she screamed.
Colin tried to punch her, but she was fast enough to avoid it, if not strong enough to disarm him.
June grabbed her purse and stepped out into the water, but she just couldn't leave Rowena in danger. Could she help her? If she tried, she'd probably get in the way. If Colin got that hammer anywhere near her, she was dead.
And the simple truth was, she was terrified of the man. She had been for years. She couldn't run away from Rowena, no matter how she insisted, but she couldn't approach Colin. Not like this.
Rowena had managed to drag Colin all the way over to the safety rail. She was clearly trying to make him drop the hammer into the waves, while he seemed to be trying to push her over. She mostly dodged his blows, including one which hit the rail, making him scream, but she was slowing. The red dress, showing every curve and crease of her body, might as well not be present. She was fighting naked for her lover.
Each crash of the waves sent water sheeting up, white foam scintillating with the sickly yellow storm light. Each sheet collapsed around them.
Rowena seemed to be on the point of prying the hammer from his grip when another wave dashed itself against the wall. It was a monster. Spray exploded from the impact in all directions rather than up, engulfing the struggling pair. When it retreated, only one figure remained.
Colin.
Fucking Colin.
In the blink of an eye, Rowena was gone, taking nothing but the hammer from his hands.
No one survived the undertow of a wave like that. No one survived the swell, the current heading relentlessly back out to sea. No one survived the rocks. At best, her battered body would be washed up in a few weeks. More likely, no one would ever see any part of Rowena again.
She'd fought so that June could run, but June had already wasted that chance, and even if she could run, she wouldn't.
She heard sirens in the distance. Someone must have seen the crazies driving and fighting in the flood. If she ran now, there was a chance that Colin wouldn't catch her before the emergency vehicles did.
She didn't care. She ran towards her husband, driven by something stronger than terror, attempting to rain blows on him. "You killed 'er! You fuckin' killed 'er!"
Few of her punches landed, and the ones that made it through did no damage. She kept trying.
"Don't you say a fuckin' word about 'er. She's gone. What 'appened to 'er wasn't me fault. I don't even know who the fuck she was!"
"She were..." June screamed. "She were..."
If she was about to die, she was going to hurt him in the only way left to her. "She were a better fuckin' lover 'n you ever was!"
Her husband's fist hit her so hard she wasn't aware of reaching the ground.
Between her broken jaw and concussion, June was in the hospital for three days. When she'd finally become alert enough to give a statement, she said she'd been trying to get away from her abusive husband. He'd caught up with her and beaten her up. No mention of Rowena, just as Colin wanted. What could she say? A woman who walked around practically naked in the rain, no other details at all, no surname, no place of abode, no employment history? She was there, then she was gone. My husband killed her, but we don't have her body or any witnesses.
Maybe if she washed up somewhere, June would change her statement. Until then any mention of Rowena would complicate her life more than it already was.
The police were looking for Colin. She didn't think they were looking very hard. He'd be in Whitby. If he returned home, she'd call them and he'd become a priority. She'd changed the locks and kept her phone charged. She didn't think he'd be stupid enough to show up.
The first time she'd seen the hagstone tied to the door handle, she'd cried. It hadn't protected her from evil.
Holly had received the message about opening the store. Since June hadn't made it to her destination, she hadn't sent any explanation, so Holly went about business as normal, other than closing the store for lunch every day. After June was released from the hospital, she explained everything, and asked Holly to continue to be in charge of the store for a week or so longer, until June could begin to recover enough from her jaw surgery and her loss.
She was on a soft food diet, since she could barely move her jaw and couldn't stress it. But tea was allowed! After speaking with Holly, she walked to the sea front to pick up tea from the kiosk she'd visited so often with Rowena. She moved to lean on the rail rather than sit at a table, looking far down the road to the site of the confrontation with Colin. The place where she'd lost the woman she'd come to love.
The road had been cleaned up after the flood. By the time June had left the hospital, all traces of the flood had been dealt with.
Maybe not all traces. A patch of red caught her eye, fluttering behind the tea shop. It was trapped behind an uneven board. She reached behind the back of the kiosk, stretching until she could pull the fabric free.
It was quite a sizable piece of red cotton, the exact colour and thickness of the dress Rowena had been wearing when the sea had taken her. June stared at it before, for the first time, losing herself to grief over her lover. She'd cried when she saw the hagstone, but this wasn't a mediocre display like that. This was a full-throated ugly cry, embarrassing herself and everyone who saw her. She waved away the few sympathetic tourists who tried to help. Her tears continued all the way home, and beyond. Rowena was really gone.
The phone call came after her first day back at the shop. She didn't recognise the number.
"That Mrs. Jackson?"
"Aye, it is, who's this?"
"Gareth, missus. I work on your 'usband's boat. Uh..."
Fear spiked within June. What had he done now? She looked towards Holly, who was ringing up a very pretty pewter and sea glass candle holder, and pointed to the door to the back office. Holly nodded at her.
"What is it, Gareth?" she asked as she entered the office.
"Uh..." he said again. He sounded frightened, too, she realised. "Uh... 'e's gone, missus."
Oh, fuck. Gareth knew what he'd done, and he was gone. On his way to get her? Fuck!
June grabbed the back of the office chair for support. "Gone?"
"Gone, missus. Ovver the side. It were a whale, missus. A fuckin' orca. Well, a few o' the fuckers. Beg your pardon, missus. They kept throwin' 'emselves out o' t'water, bashin' up t'boat when they 'it it. Colin - your 'usband, missus," as if she'd ever forget that, "'e were tryin' to keep t'boat steady, but 'e went ovver. We saw 'im for a few seconds, 'e were a good swimmer, an' 'e 'ad 'is gear on, but summat grabbed 'im from beneath, an'... an' e's gone, missus. 'E's just gone."
There was no word for what she felt. Fear, panic, outrage, relief. All of those, and more. She pulled the chair out and collapsed into it. Her whole body shook. "God."
"An' then they just left, missus. The boat's okay. It's a bit bashed up, but seaworthy enough, for now. We steamed back to Whitby an' I called you."
Fuck. Rowena was gone - and now Colin was gone. She should be pleased that he'd never be able to threaten her again. And she was. But he'd been part of her life for well over a decade. She'd loved him, once. And he was just... no longer there.
Repairs to the boat wouldn't be cheap, but the boat itself was worth much more. June sold it to Gareth and his partner - or at least to the bank that loaned them the funding. The way fishing was going, the boat would only be worth half as much in five years.
It was enough of a nest egg that she'd be able to eke out the income from the shop for a long time. And with Colin not drinking his share, maybe longer.
She was surprised that Gareth would want to continue after his experience, but as he said, "Fuck else am I goin' to do? An' it might 'a been weird and deadly, but believe me, missus, there's more weird shit than that goin' on in t'sea."
That, she believed. It was all part of the mystery.
Her hair was long, untidy, and a deep blueish green. That was her most noticeable feature. Broad shoulders encased in yellow cotton came next. The sun was invisible, only a sight pearlescence in a grey sky, far to the right, stealing the shadow from her back.
June crunched lightly over the frost-coated grass and leaves. She sat down beside the woman without asking permission.
Visibility was moderate. The horizon was hidden in grey, but June could see into the middle distance, where the strong northeast breeze whipped wave tops into spray. The lack of holidaymakers on the strip of sand made the view seem more bleak than normal. This might be her favourite North Sea mood. As might any other, on any particular day.
"I reckon your 'air is its natural colour."
Rowena turned to give her a small smile. "No artificial colour survives the water for long."
"An' I guess I understand why you doan't wear pants. Or undies."
"Underwear is your own personal trawler net during the Change," she said.
"Ah! I'd missed that 'un. That's why you 'ate trawlers."
"Trawling is evil," Rowena said.
June sighed. "There goes me ever eatin' fish 'n' chips again."
"I wouldn't ask that sacrifice of you. It wouldn't make a difference, and you've already lost so much. How long did it take you to work it out?"
"The orcas were a bit of a giveaway. A fishin' boat in't a Gibraltar yacht. But it still took a while. I were lookin' at t'calendar in t'shop. It 'as phases o' t'moon. The day you said you'd be around were a full moon. Spring tides. You can only Change at t'spring tide, right?"
"At spring tide, and I can stay Changed for up to two days, maximum."
"So anyone who falls in love wi' you could only 'ave you for two days per fortnight?"
"If she's on land, yes," agreed Rowena. "We hadn't got that far. We hadn't got to falling in love."
June sighed. "I 'ad."
Rowena smiled, though her expression was sorrowful. "So had I, but we'd never had the chance to talk about it."
"So..." June didn't know how to continue.
"You're wrong about one thing," Rowena said. "The sea does change. It's poisoned from above and below. Its currents are being perverted, and the balance of life that has taken more than my lifetime to build has already been shattered. When I lose my home, I'll die, like everything around me. I can't live away from it."
"How old are you, Rowena?" June asked.
"I remember when the loudest sound was the song of whales. When your ships creaked as they hissed through the water, before the first metal ships brought noise and poisons. Ever greater noise and ever more poisons. I remember when this sea was free of the flavour of the black sludge from beneath, and when ships brought sounds of death to find the sludge. I remember the tastes of wars and the screams of humanity. And now, I will see the death of seas, and my own as part of that."
"God," June said. "An' I was feeling sorry for missen for losin' someone I used to love, an' someone I were just startin' to."
Rowena gave her another sad smile.
"Rowena..." June began.
The woman raised a green eyebrow.
"I love you. It's why I contacted your friends to get a message to you. But you took me 'usband. I know 'e 'ad it comin', an' I know t'world's a better place without 'im in it. It's a much safer place for me. But it'll take me some time to get past that."
Rowena nodded slowly "I told you I'll wait for you. There's no time limit on that. Except for the death of the seas, that is."
"I won't be outlivin' that missen, I reckon," said June. "But it won't be long. I promise."
"Come down with me to the shore and kiss me goodbye. It will make the time until then pass more lightly."
"Aye, lass," said June. Standing, she held out her hand for her lover, and the two walked hand in hand down the slope, this time turning away from the very few tourists, all wrapped up in winter coats, and the locals keeping their hands warm around paper cups. They threaded their way carefully over the rocks, between the tide pools and patches of seaweed, until they were beneath the cliffs, where Rowena turned to embrace her.
Their kiss lasted for minutes, before June drew back. "I'll call your friends soon. Be patient wi' me."
"Of course," Rowena replied, adding softly, "my love." Then she stepped out of her flip-flops and walked towards the frigid North Sea.
When the water reached the top of her thighs, she dove forwards. A moment later, and a hundred yards further out, June caught a glimpse of the yellow dress, then a silvery tail lashed once before vanishing beneath the waves.