Wishing Water

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Because she’s quite old and rich enough to do as she pleases. A state of affairs which will never be a problem for you, girl, if you don’t jump to it, as you will be unemployed and expire of starvation before you reach twenty.’

  Jan hung her head. ‘Yes, Miss Stevens.’ Studiously ignoring Lissa’s giggles, she gathered up a suitable selection and set out.

  Stella Stevens returned to her office, staring at the wad of unpaid accounts in her hand and reaching for her bottle of Milk of Magnesia. Her nervous stomach was really giving trouble this morning, a little sip or two might help.

  She was a large lady with a healthy appetite, a low-slung bosom and hips that were a walking advertisement for her corset department. Her ‘nerves’ were aided and abetted not by the worthy Milk of Magnesia but by whatever liquid the innocent blue bottle actually happened to contain. Today it was brandy.

  ‘Something must be done,’ she informed the Kangol beret poster stuck on the wall above her desk. ‘Clients no longer seem to have the good taste of former years. Turn their noses up at true quality, they do. “Is it in fashion, my dear Miss Stevens?” they say.’ Stella mimicked the warbling tone of a customer and took another sip from the Milk of Magnesia bottle, found it empty and threw it in the waste paper basket. Then realising what she had done, took it out again and went to her washroom to refill it. She was not herself this morning and could do with a bit of comfort. Surprising really how bad her stomach got after the monthly bank statement arrived.

  ‘This is a good little business, no matter what the customers might say,’ she declared to Jan and Lissa as she faced them later that day with the unpalatable truth that despite the high volume of people passing through the door, the takings in the till were pitifully small.

  ‘Course it is, Miss Stevens,’ Jan hastily agreed.

  Lissa privately thought Stevens Drapery had not moved with the times. It fell very much between two stools. The clothes were neither stylish nor classic, merely old fashioned. Admittedly they did well with a few useful bits and pieces of haberdashery, but not enough to sustain a thriving business.

  ‘What I wouldn’t like to do with this place!’ Lissa said, as Miss Stevens retreated to her office like a crab scurrying sideways to bury itself in sand, safe from the harshness of the world.

  ‘Burn it down?’ And they both burst into fits of giggles.

  The girls were thankful when five-thirty came and they could lock the door, hand over the takings and return home to the little boathouse where they took it in turns to make the evening meal. Then they would sit outside by the lake in the evening sun and talk about how blissful it was to be seventeen and free.

  Occasionally Derry came over, declaring himself in need of some fresh air, though he always managed to make a point of rubbing Lissa up the wrong way. Tonight was no exception.

  ‘Not going out then?’ he asked, staring almost accusingly at her.

  ‘No,’ Jan answered for her, eyes closed as she sat sprawled in a deck chair, her neat figure clad in a blue and white swimsuit that sported a dashing skirt about the hips.

  Derry was dressed in a blue check shirt, open at the neck to show off his tan, and tight blue jeans that no doubt sent the young girls crazy, Lissa thought, averting her eyes from his neatly shaped rear.

  ‘Wouldn’t get me leading such a dull life. It isn’t cool to stay in,’ he loftily informed them, and started skimming stones across the lake, yelling with delight when he got a high number of bounces. ‘Out every night, me.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Lissa dryly. ‘How would you know what we do, since you’re never around?’ She lifted violet eyes to his, a challenge blatantly written in them, and felt a curl of delight to see the swaggering arrogance slip slightly into doubt as he frowned at her.

  Lissa’s swimsuit was a two-piece, of a modest cut but revealing enough to give Derry pause for thought.

  ‘You could come with us on our gigs.’

  ‘Perhaps we have better things to do.’

  ‘Who would you go out with?’ He preferred to imagine her sitting serenely here, by the lake, waiting. For him? He wasn’t quite sure. He’d thought at one time that she quite fancied him, now he’d given up hope. Almost.

  ‘None of your business.’ Violet eyes met brown, and held.

  For the first time Derry looked uncertain, almost as if he wished he hadn’t asked. He skimmed a stone with such fierce vigour it bounced half across the lake before sinking.

  ‘Did you see that? Thirteen.’

  ‘Unlucky,’ said Lissa and sank back in her deck chair, closing her eyes as if she wasn’t interested.

  He took out his comb and flicked at his quiff with quick, agitated gestures. ‘This town is boring. You won’t find me hanging around here much longer. I’ll be off and away. Starting to make real good money with the group now.’

  Despite herself, Lissa’s eyes flew open and saw the triumph register in his eyes as he recognised her interest. The thought of never seeing Derry again sent her heart plummeting. ‘Go where?’

  ‘Haven’t decided yet. Manchester. London. Who knows?’

  ‘You were born and brought up in the Lake District. How could you ever be happy anywhere else when you love it so much? There are no mountains to climb in London.’

  He looked thoughtful for a moment then shrugged his shoulders. ‘Life goes on. I’m going up in the world. Good as this is, I could do better. Renee’s a pain, though her cooking has improved, and Dad isn’t too bad. He’s building a boat for me, you know. So I can win the races this year.’

  ‘You’re staying on at Nab Cottage because you get well fed and Jimmy is building you a boat? You selfish, arrogant…’

  Jan lifted her hands in her favourite conducting gesture. ‘Now children, no more squabbling. Why don’t we go for a row on the lake? A little gentle exercise will do us all good. Cool us all down.’

  Lissa was still stinging from his accusations of dullness as they dragged the wooden row boat over the shingle. ‘Where’s your fan club tonight? Deserted you already?’

  Derry stopped tugging at the boat to grin at her, his face so close to hers that to Lissa’s immense fury her heart gave a little flip. Why won’t he stay out of my life completely then I could forget him?

  ‘They do tend to wear a bloke out, it’s true. But I’m between dates, as you might say.’

  A wave of sickness hit her and Lissa would have liked to knock the supercilious expression off his face.

  With strenuous efforts on Jan’s part, good humour was restored as they puffed up and down the lake and were soon squealing with delight every time they ‘caught a crab’ and were splashed with the ice cold water.

  ‘This is fun, we should do it more often,’ Lissa gasped, on a sudden burst of enthusiasm.

  Derry glanced at her in surprise. ‘My, take care. Dangerous to unstuff your shirt and mingle with the peasants.’

  ‘Derry! What a thing to say.’ Jan was horrified.

  He said he was sorry but didn’t look it. Lissa decided she’d been right about Derry Colwith all along. He was perfectly horrid.

  With the fickleness of Lakeland weather the skies had turned iron-grey, promising rain, held off only by the wind which tore through the valley, turning the leaves upside down on the trees, churning the waters and scurrying the ducks into flustered huddles.

  It was a day to be indoors. Renee was spending it defrosting her fridge.

  ‘Drat the thing,’ she screamed, jabbing her knife into the huge lumps of ice stuck fast to its shining surface.

  ‘There’s more water on your kitchen floor than in the lake,’ said Jimmy, watching her wring out cloths and shift bowls about. ‘Our Derry’ll have to swim in for his tea tonight.’

  ‘All the food’s going off.’ Renee almost sobbed her frustration. ‘Why didn’t that salesman tell me it’d take half a day and a night to defrost the damn thing?’

  ‘He told you to do it every week. You do it once every two months, and the ice builds u
p.’

  ‘Looks like the bloody north pole. I wish I had one of those huge American fridges, like on “I Love Lucy”.’

  Jimmy groaned and got up from the kitchen table where he’d been enjoying a bacon and egg breakfast. ‘Aw, don’t start, Renee. Not summat else. Enough’s enough.’

  ‘I only want what I deserve, pet. What I’ve never had.’

  ‘I know, sweetheart, but there’s only so many working hours in a day.’

  ‘We could get it on the Never-Never.’

  ‘Aye, and never bloody pay for it? I thought you wanted a gramophone?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘I’m not a walking bank, Renee.’

  Tears were streaming down her face and Jimmy watched her with a sad expression. It was the nearest they’d come to a quarrel. ‘I’d give you the earth, love, you know I would, but it’d cost too much.’

  The knife jerked in her hand and flew off into some distant recess of the kitchen. Renee doubted she would ever see it again, and didn’t rightly care.

  ‘To hell with it. Oh, Jimboy, I’m sorry. I wanted things to be real nice this evening when they all came.’

  ‘They will be nice. Don’t you always make things nice?’ Then she was in his arms and in seconds the quarrel was forgotten. He was lifting up her skirt, grabbing like a teenager with eager hands. He took her there and then, slipping and sliding in the pools of ice on the kitchen floor.

  ‘I’ll get you a telephone installed, so you won’t feel so alone,’ Jimmy gasped, when he could breathe again. ‘How about that?’

  Renee screamed her delight and hugged his tousled head close to her soft round breast. ‘Oh, I do love you, you soft old fool. Now get off to work, and take care.’

  He smacked a kiss on one damp nipple. ‘When do I not?’

  When he was gone Renee sat for a minute longer on the damp floor, eyes glazed with soft love.

  ‘Mind you,’ she said to the budgie as she went off to change. ‘It’s all very well being a modern woman and Jimmy working hard to buy the latest gadgets, but there’s so much to learn to operate the damn things you need to be a trained mechanic.’

  The little gate had been given a fresh lick of green paint and the tiny garden was crowded with blue delphiniums, hollyhocks, pink rambling roses and pale crinkly honesty as the two girls walked up the path to Nab Cottage.

  Renee loved to invite them for a meal. It gave her a chance to show off her latest culinary efforts, and they were always glad to accept. The electric fire was not switched on since the rain had stopped and a fitful sun was warming the August day, but the little blue budgie was still squabbling noisily with its alter ego in the mirror.

  ‘You’re cooking is really getting very good,’ Lissa told Renee as they all tucked in to delicious lake trout, baked to perfection with smoked crispy bacon. There were plump ripe strawberries to follow, piled high on a meringue nest.

  ‘I’ve you to thank for that. No one else has ever bothered to teach me anything.’

  ‘You’ll have to teach her to knit socks next,’ Jan said.

  Renee looked puzzled, as well she might. ‘Why socks?’

  ‘Lissa’s family are experts but haven’t the first idea how to dance.’

  Nobody else quite understood their hilarity. But that’s the way they were: silly and careless. Joking all the time. Life was fun and Lissa wanted to keep it that way.

  Jimmy Colwith let his eyes rest on his young wife with pride. Dressed in her usual black pencil skirt which flattered her shapely figure, she wore a pink top with raglan sleeves and a wide vee neck that kept slipping off one lovely bare shoulder. Ripe as one of those luscious strawberries she was. It had been a lucky day for him when she’d walked through the door. He’d quite forgotten she’d ever had any connection with his son.

  Lissa hadn’t. She was letting her own gaze stray to Derry’s face and found his warm brown eyes riveted upon his young stepmother. Her heart plummeted. So that was why he was reluctant to leave home? He still wanted Renee. The thought filled her with a sick dread. What a foolish innocent she was.

  ‘She’ll be running the Marina Hotel before she’s done,’ Derry was saying. The expression in his eyes was filled with laughter and admiration and Lissa almost hated him for being happy. But when they turned to her, instinctively sensing her gaze upon him, the eyes narrowed and noticeably cooled. ‘She could hold dances for the Yacht Club set. I’m sure Lissa would love to attend. She likes men in penguin suits.’

  ‘They certainly wouldn’t let you in wearing that jacket.’ she tartly responded. ‘Not to mention the purple shirt. Where did you find it? At a fancy dress party?’

  She lifted her chin with haughty disdain, turning her attention to the dessert as it was placed before her, then found the lump in her throat would not allow her to eat it. She really shouldn’t waste time on him. But Lissa knew, even as she chastised herself, that it wouldn’t have made any difference. Despite all her efforts to keep him at a distance she was falling for Derek Colwith and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  There was a balmy warmth to the evening air as Derry walked the two girls home later that evening. The black mountains huddled about the shoreline seemed to protect them in a secret world all of their own. Soon summer would be over, the visitors would leave and the quiet riches of autumn would be theirs to enjoy, unfettered by overwork.

  Contentment warmed Lissa. What did it matter if Jan had a good looking, infuriating brother? On the whole, taking everything into account, she was happy here in Carreckwater, for all she still missed Broomdale, and Meg. ‘What more could we ask for but a job that puts money in our pockets and friends to enjoy life with?’ She really mustn’t let Derry guess how she felt. She would fight her emotions every inch of the way. If he still had a thing going for Renee, that was his problem. And Jimmy’s. He was the one she should feel sorry for.

  ‘I could think of one or two other things I might ask for.’

  ‘I can guess,’ teased his sister. ‘A Vespa scooter maybe, or a recording contract with Decca?’

  He cast a glance at Lissa across Jan’s head as if trying to judge her reaction. ‘We’re buying a bigger van next week, then we can travel further, to play at other places. Maybe go as far as Manchester.’

  Lissa stared at the ground, not wanting to show that it mattered whether Derry stayed in Carreckwater or not. But the rapid beat of her heart told its own tale.

  ‘What about your job?’ Jan asked. ‘You can’t take too much time off from that.’

  ‘He’s too grand to be a clerk,’ Lissa said, hating the way her voice sounded peevish. But Derry agreed. ‘I’d give it up tomorrow for one chance at the big time.’

  ‘Jan laughed. ‘Fat chance.’

  The boathouse was bathed in a pool of pale moonlight as Jan turned her key in the lock, still chuckling over her brother’s foolish dreams.

  The soft lapping of water slipping over stones echoed magically in Lissa’s ears. Pewter grey, its polished surface reflected a half moon and the need to be alone with Derry was suddenly so compelling that the blood hummed in her veins. She wished Jan would go to bed so she could walk with him along the shore, hand in hand, gazing at that moon, talking softly together, perhaps feeling his lips on hers. Lissa shook the dream away, knowing it to be false and dangerous, and then as if she’d spoken out loud, Jan declared she was tired and would go at once to her bed.

  ‘If you two don’t mind? Goodnight.’ She flashed them a cheery wave then went up the spiral staircase to her tiny bedroom in the eaves.

  Now the very opposite emotions ruled. Cold fear gripped Lissa’s heart. She was alone for the first time with Derry. He stood in the tiny living room smiling at her, hands in pockets, and to her complete shock and dismay she felt her limbs start to tremble. Foolish as it might seem the sensation persisted, filling her with a sudden panic. How ridiculous.

  ‘I’m tired too,’ she blurted out, more harshly than she intended. He considered her for a long mom
ent in silence, and Lissa saw his shoulders tense.

  ‘I’d best be on my way then,’ he said at last, not making a move.

  ‘Yes,’ Lissa agreed through stiff lips, and after a moment found the strength to walk to the door.

  Derry took his hands out of his pockets, wiped the palms on his trousers and slowly followed her. She held open the door, stiff-backed, as she waited for him to leave. Then the panic dissolved into a wave of shyness as he brushed past her and Lissa lowered her chin, unable to meet his shrewd gaze. She was aware that he’d paused in the doorway, that he was looking down at her, waiting for her to say something. But she dare not move, dare not return his gaze. Couldn’t think what to say.

  ‘Good night then.’

  ‘Good night.’ Lissa sounded falsely bright, moved as if to close the door. Derry stopped it with his foot, then catching her chin between finger and thumb, tilted her face up to his.

  ‘I don’t understand you.’ There was a grating quality to his voice that she’d never heard before.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Think about it. Sometimes you give me the real come-on. Slanting those delicious smiles when there are other people around and I can’t do a damn thing about it. The next minute you’re as cold as ice and don’t want to know. You’ve avoided me for months. What is it with you? I hadn’t thought you a tease but it’s looking that way.’

  ‘I - I really…’

  ‘I’m only human, Lissa. Its not fair to lead a bloke on, then freeze him out.’

  She was appalled. ‘I never led you on.’

  ‘You let me kiss you on that walk. You said you’d come again but never did. You danced for me and saved the group from certain death. Then you went off with Philip Brandon. Now you’ve hardly a good word to say to me.’

  Lissa remained silent, hanging her head with shame. She’d never considered the situation from Derry’s point of view and it was unsettling. She’d never thought that he could be hurt by her blow hot, blow cold attitude.