Chapter 1

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)

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…

Rowena instantly leaned away. “What is it?”

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.

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.”

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.