The Sea Between by Carol Thomas

hold good.’
    ‘If it doesn’t, there are places where we can shelter,’ she said. If it came to a pinch, she’d much rather be wet outdoors with Richard than dry indoors with Isobel.
    ‘My daughter knows these hills like the back of her hand,’ John stated proudly. ‘Take Richard up to Shelf Rock, Charlotte—there’s a magnificent view from there.’
    ‘Yes, I will,’ she said. It was quite a long ride, but what did that matter?
    Ten minutes later they were riding across the hills together. A light easterly wind was blowing, making the flush of spring grass ripple like waves. All around, in the valleys and on the hills, ewes were feastingon the tender new shoots, their fleeces heavy and thick with winter growth. They were due to be shorn. Intermingled with them were the new season’s lambs. At this time of year, the hills rang ceaselessly with their bleats and the answering calls of their mothers.
    ‘How long has your family lived here, Miss Blake?’ Richard enquired. He glanced across at her and smiled.
    ‘Eight years,’ she replied.
    ‘Do you like living here? It’s very isolated.’
    ‘It is, but I’ve grown used to it,’ she returned. ‘I’ve no great desire to live in a town.’
    ‘Nor I,’ he agreed.
    ‘But you have no desire to live on a farm either.’
    ‘No. My father wanted me to be a farmer, but I had no interest in it.’
    ‘You’re lucky you were allowed to make your own choices,’ she commented, thinking of her brother Edwin. As the oldest son, it had gone without saying that he’d work on the farm. George, the second son, had been allowed to make his own choice of profession.
    Richard shrugged. ‘My father was in a difficult position. When I started insisting that I wanted to go to sea, I was fourteen and my grandfather was still alive. His health was poor, so he was living with us. He’d been the captain of a barque for most of his working life and was delighted that I wanted to follow in his footsteps. It made it very awkward for my father to raise objections, when my grandfather was so strongly in favour of it, particularly as my grandfather had let my father pursue the profession of his choice, breeding cattle. I’ve my grandfather to thank for quite a few things. When he died, seven years ago, he bequeathed me some money and said it was to be used towards the purchase of a vessel. It enabled me to buy the Nina. ’
    ‘You’re very fortunate,’ Charlotte remarked. ‘Not everyone’s dreams come to fruition as effortlessly as yours have.’
    ‘I’ve worked hard for what I have.’
    Ignoring the mild rebuke in his voice, she said, ‘I’m sure you have, but there are people who work far harder than you do, whose dreams will never be realized as yours have. Your crew, for instance—I’m sure some of them dream about owning their own ship. But how many will?’
    ‘Very few,’ he conceded, then added, with a smile: ‘You’ve inherited some of your aunt’s bluntness, I see.’
    She laughed. ‘If my aunt were here, she’d challenge you to define the difference between bluntness and honesty.’
    ‘Why? Does your aunt think they’re the same?’ he asked.
    ‘No, not at all,’ she said.
    ‘Then how would she distinguish between the two?’
    ‘Aunt Isobel says that if people don’t like what they hear, they call it bluntness; and if they do like what they hear, they call it honesty.’
    Richard laughed. ‘Well, there’s certainly some truth in that. How would your aunt distinguish between bluntness and rudeness?’
    Knowing what he was alluding to, she tossed him an apologetic smile. ‘She doesn’t, I’m afraid.’
    Obviously agreeing with her, Richard nodded. ‘Well, despite her abrasive way of speaking, she has some interesting points of view. D’you think many women feel as she does and want the laws changed?’
    ‘I’ve no idea,’ Charlotte replied honestly. ‘I doubt many women feel as strongly as Isobel, but if my aunt is to be believed a