He turned to her and found she had tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, crikey, listen to me playing the philosopher. Still, life isn’t about where you came from, only where you’re going.’
‘I can’t believe that. I believe who you are and where you start out determines where you are going.’
‘But a lot of it’s up to you. When my mam was dying,’ he said, fixing his eyes on the middle distance. ‘She told me not to remember her as sick and unhappy. “If you must look back,” she said, “think of the happy times when I was healthy and full of life. Better still, look forward. Live your life to the full. Live for tomorrow.”’
He was silent for a moment, then he said. ‘So that’s what I try to do. Much as it hurts at times.’
Lissa gazed at him, and at the land before her. Could he be right? Had she spent too much of her life looking back, worrying about other people? Should she push herself forward more? Anything seemed possible with Derry beside her.
He was looking at her with the kind of intent gaze that made her shiver with longing. ‘I wish I could be brave like you. Dream. Make plans. Do anything I wanted.’ She slanted a glance up at him. ‘Perhaps I even wish I dared to let myself love you.’
Lissa wanted to take back the words the instant they were out of her mouth. But they were spoken now, bursting out of her, answering a need in her.
His response was everything she might have hoped for. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a deep, loving kiss that went to the heart of her. ‘Why can you not?’ he softly asked. ‘If you want to?’
‘Because I’m afraid.’
‘Of me?’
‘Of rejection. I expect people not to want or care for me, except out of duty. I’ve decided they’re really only concerned about their own feelings, not mine.’
He looked shocked. ‘What, because your mother didn’t want you, you imagine everyone else is the same? Even Meg? Even me? That’s a bit strong.’
‘It’s how I feel. So unwanted.’
He was cradling her in his arms, smoothing back tendrils of hair from her brow, kissing the tears from her cheeks, telling her that he loved her and would do so for as long as he lived. Excitement mounted inside as his words soothed her, making her grow weak with the need to surrender to the compulsion of wanting.
Their kisses were growing ever more passionate and he suddenly stopped, to put her firmly from him. ‘Hell, we’d best stop now. We’ve a long way to walk yet.’ His eyes were warm and loving and she reached for him, kissing him of her own volition, heard his groan, and her own soft sigh of pleasure as they sank upon the sweet grass.
‘I won’t hurt you,’ he murmured against the fevered warmth of her skin. ‘I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.’
‘I’m not cheap,’ she said, aware in that moment that there was little she didn’t want him to do.’ I want you to respect me.’
‘I do respect you, silly.’
Her heart exulted when she felt the muscles in his arms tighten about her. Lissa had never felt more alive, more wanted in her life before. They rolled and clung together like young puppies, teasing, touching and kissing as they explored and discovered the joys of love. She stuffed bracken down his neck and he tickled her mercilessly, stopping her squeals with increasingly demanding kisses.
It was meant to be no more than harmless fun. They’d neither of them intended to take it too far but Derry couldn’t disguise his hunger for her, nor she her need for him. Though he was a young and inexperienced lover, a little clumsy in his eagerness, they came together quite naturally and made love without restraint, pulling off clothes which got in the way, ignoring others till a tide of passion took them over and the laughter faded. Their loving seemed right, the most natural thing in the world. Lissa gave herself to him freely and with all her love, cleansing herself of the pain of broken promises. There was a tender sweetness and sensitivity in their loving that moved her to tears and brought Derry to a shuddering climax.
Afterwards they lay upon the yielding bracken staring into the wide arc of a brilliant blue sky, stunned by their emotions and shaken by the result. ‘I shouldn’t have let you do that,’ Lissa murmured, filled suddenly by the enormity of what had happened. What had she been thinking of? She hadn’t been thinking at all, that was the trouble. Now that the passion had faded she began to worry. ‘I can’t think what came over me.’
‘Me neither.’
A dreadful thought struck her and she sat up, all hot and bothered. ‘Oh lord, what if I get pregnant?’
Derry took her hand and squeezed it consolingly. ‘You won’t get pregnant. I’m not daft. I was careful.’
Violet eyes gazed pleadingly into his. ‘But what if?’ It didn’t bear thinking about. ‘I’d die. I’d just die.’
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her brow with great tenderness. ‘I promise you, Lissa, you’re quite safe. I’ll look after you.’
‘I love you,’ she said.
‘And I you.’
‘For ever?’
‘And ever.’
They were sitting on Kidsty Pike. Not too far, had they but known it, from where Jack Lawson had proposed to Meg nearly twenty years before. Where he’d given her his mother’s engagement ring and she’d kept by her promise to wait for him throughout the long years of war that followed, through all the pain and suffering, the realisation of his betrayal and her love for another man.
Lissa and Derry were children of a different world. There was no fear of their young lives being torn apart by Hitler’s ruthless ambitions. They believed it would be an easy world to live in because of that simple fact.
‘We should go,’ he murmured, kissing every contour of her delightful, beautiful face. ‘How smooth and silky your skin is.’ She felt warm and languorous, heady with the joys of the tenderness that flowed between them, pushing aside her niggling worries. She wouldn’t get pregnant, she wouldn’t. Not from just one mistake.
Neither could bear to break the spell, and as they were quite exhausted, they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Lissa woke to find the clouds had gathered and darkened, clotting the skies like thick cream. She looked beyond his beloved face and stared into a blank, soft white nothingness. Then she was pushing him away, trying desperately to wake him and examine the seriousness of their situation.
‘Do wake up, Derry. The mist has come down. We’re smothered in cloud.’
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, gazing about him as worried as she. The last thing anyone needed on a mountain walk was to be engulfed in mist. He cursed quietly under his breath though the face he turned to Lissa was reassuring, fixed with a careful smile.
‘It’ll be all right. We’ll just have to sit it out until it’s gone.’
‘Sit it out? Here?’ She was pulling her sweater over her blouse, reaching for her coat. The golden moment had faded, leaving cold reality in its wake. ‘We must go home, before we freeze to death.’
‘We can’t see where we’re walking. One wrong step and we’d be tripping down the cliff into Riggingdale. That’s a fair drop and I’d prefer not to make it, if you don’t mind,’ he said, making a joke of his anxiety.
Lissa hesitated, understanding the sense of what he said but unwilling to accept it. ‘We can be careful.’
‘It’s easy to lose any sense of direction in thick mist like this. Much safer to stay put.’
The argument went on for some time, but in the end Derry won. They put on every item of clothing they’d brought with them and waited, cuddled up together for warmth.
‘It’s lifting.’
‘I don’t think so.’ A soft rain had started, sweeping in, as the old farmer had warned, from the west. ‘I’ll keep you safe, I promise. All night if need be.’
‘All night?’ The last time she’d stayed out all night Meg had lost her baby. Lissa felt the same cold panic. ‘We shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It’s all your fault,’ she accused, with no sense of reason as fear took root.
‘Oh, sure. I ordered the mist by mail order and told it not to be late. Calm down, Lissa. You’re getting hysterical. Come here, love. You can have my coat as well if you’re cold.’
She hated to be told to calm down. She’d been a fool, she told herself. He’d coerced her here, persuaded her to believe in him, seduced her, but how could she trust his promises? How could she trust anyone, even Derry? Oh, what had she done? What had she been thinking of to let things go so far? ‘If we stay here all night everyone will know. It’ll be all around town that we’ve slept together.’
‘Well, it’s true. We have.’ He laughed and she felt suddenly exasperated with him, almost crying with frustration.
‘I don’t want anyone to know.’
‘Why? Are you ashamed of me?’
‘Don’t be silly. It should be our secret. Just between us. What will people think? They’ll say I’m no good.’
‘To hell with what people think. That’s their problem.’
Now that the sun had gone and the beautiful green grandeur of the fells swallowed up by ghostly mist, Lissa felt cold and vulnerable and alone. All her worries exploded in her head, numbing her with their implications. ‘Oh, what if I do get pregnant?’ She was as bad as her mother. Wicked. Wanton. A harlot. She’d proved her grandmother right.
‘You won’t get pregnant. I promise, Lissa.’ He was stroking her hair, smoothing her cheeks, trying to reassure her. ‘It’s all right, love. You’re quite safe.’
But she wasn’t listening. ‘What will Meg say? She must have guessed I was really wicked inside. Just like my mother.’
‘It’s not wicked to love.’
The mist seemed to be thickening, pressing against her like soft padding hands. Lissa was slapping his hands away and the next instant she was on her feet, running and stumbling in her desperation to find her way back.
He called out to her, urging her to take care. To one side of her, smothered by the thick cloud, was the perilous drop to Blea Water, two hundred feet or more below. She ran the other way to avoid it, became disoriented, then her foot caught on something, there was a loud crack and blackness closed in.
‘Lisa. Wake up, Lissa. Are you all right? Please open your eyes.’
Derry’s voice came as if from a great distance, then his face swam into view before her eyes.
‘Thank God,’ he said when he saw her blink. ‘You tripped and hit your head against a rock. Are you all right?’
He helped her to her feet and they huddled together, wrapped in each other’s arms in a small hollow they found beside a rock until she felt recovered enough to go on.
‘I’m sorry I panicked,’ she murmured, snug against his hard chest. ‘Only shows my foolish insecurity. I will learn to trust you, really I will.’ Her teeth were starting to chatter with cold. ‘You’re very, special to me, Derry Colwith, d-do you know that?’
‘We’ll have to risk going on now,’ he said, trying not to show his concern. ‘You’re cold and it’s starting to rain. Come on, love, hold on to me. If we can find the cairn that marks Nan Bield pass, there’s a shelter there and we can rest up for a while, until the weather improves.’
But search as they might they missed the cairn, smothered as it was in the mist. With visibility so bad and the rain running down their necks it soon became plain they had gone too far and were almost on the Longsleddale ridge which went ever higher and miles out of their way.
‘I should have brought my compass,’ Derry mourned. ‘There’s nothing for it but to go back and try again.’
Lissa almost sobbed with tiredness and frustration. What was she doing on this mountain top with Derry Colwith who didn’t seem to have the first idea where he was? Could she really trust him with her life? For that was what this could amount to. Worries about lost virginity seemed small by comparison.
‘Can you find it this time?’
Sure.’ Less certain than he sounded.
Turning back and retracing their steps was the worst thing Lissa had ever done. The rain was in their faces now and the grass grew slippy underfoot. After another hour Derry admitted they must have missed it again.
‘We’ll have to go down the scree into Kentmere valley,’ he suggested, and Lissa’s heart jolted. Scree walking was dangerous at the best of times. In mist, late in the afternoon, it was very nearly foolhardy. She said as much, protesting vigorously.
‘This bit isn’t too steep, I promise.’
Lissa said she didn’t wish to hear any more promises. Not right now. But he wasn’t listening.
‘We can’t go west over Kirkstone in this weather and Longsleddale would be a long, hard walk in the opposite direction. Much too far. Kentmere is the best bet. There are farms down there, houses and people. Trust me.’
What choice did she have? Lissa slid her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. ‘ All right, I will.’
It took them three hours to get down off the fells. It was the worst three hours of Lissa’s life. Sometimes the mist lifted, giving them tantalising glimpses of the way ahead. At other times it blanketed down, sweeping them with rain so that they were soon soaked to the skin despite thick woollen sweaters and waterproofs. It ran down their necks and into their socks, making puddles between their toes. It soaked right through their clothing and plastered their shirts to their backs.
Underfoot it was treacherous, slipping and sliding over rain-slicked grass, patches of scree, and jagged stones where a cricked ankle seemed inevitable and could have been a life-threatening catastrophe.
Lissa felt certain they would never reach the soft meadows of the valley below, but at last they did, almost stumbling with relief on to the long flat road. Drenched and shivering, Derry knocked at the first door where a light showed.
‘Eeh, na then,’ said a warm friendly voice as the door opened, letting light spill out into the gloaming. ‘What have we here?’
‘I wondered if perhaps you could provide us with a cup of tea?’ Derry held fast to Lissa’s hand, shaking violently in his.
The farmer’s wife stood on her slate doorstep, her mouth agape, and gazed at the two miserable young figures before her. ‘Well, I never. George, see what we have here. Come in, the pair of you, afore you turn into a couple of puddles.’
Mrs Bowker wouldn’t hear of them settling for anything less than a substantial spread. Fresh bread was brought and scalding hot soup, followed by thick slices of ham, pickle, spiced sausage, and enough tea to float a battleship.
Their clothes steamed on the rack above the big farmhouse fire while Derry and Lissa snuggled sleepily into huge blue-checked dressing gowns that smelled of pipe smoke and cold cream respectively.
‘I’ve made up two beds,’ she told them, whisking away empty plates and gathering up the tablecloth to flick the crumbs out the back door for the hens.
‘Beds?’ Lissa managed weakly.
‘Thee doesn’t think I’d send you bairns out on a night like this, do you?’ She grinned at her husband. Happily ensconced in the chimney corner he had said not a word, happy to leave these domestic matters to her judgement. ‘It’ll be right by morning, George, won’t it?’
‘Aye,’ he said, and returned to his pipe.
‘I’ll take the young lady up first then,’ Mrs Bowker said, in a voice which said she would stand no nonsense, not in her house, thank you very much.
‘We’re truly grateful,’ Lissa said as she followed her up the broad oak staircase.
Lissa was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. She wanted to go over in her mind everything that had happened that day, and its possible implications. But the moment her head touched the pillow, she was fast asleep.
Derry, however, lay wakeful for some time. He couldn’t help wondering what he had got himself into. He did love her, at least he felt almost sure that he did. But he was young, with all his life and his ambitions before him. He wasn’t ready for responsibility. Not for himself even, let alone another person.
How can I tell her now that I’ve lost my
job? How can I say I’m leaving, after all of this? he worried. She’ll think it sure proof that I didn’t mean what I said, that I don’t care for her. His eyelids began to droop. Perhaps next week, he thought, when I’ve finalised everything in Manchester. It’ll be time enough to tell her then.
And so they each slept, with reasonable contentment, in their chaste beds.
Chapter Twelve
‘How did the walk go?’ Jan wanted to know as they polished the windows and swept out the shop. Lissa made no reply, merely smiled as she worked.
‘Ah, that good, eh? About time you two got together.’ Jan spoke if she had arranged it all. ‘And you only got home this morning? Well, well.’ There was a question in her voice and Lissa flushed, unable to prevent herself from looking guilty.
‘There was a mist and we got lost. Derry thought it safer to go down into Kentmere where we were offered accommodation by a very proper farmer’s wife. Mrs Bowker, she was called. She was lovely, dried our clothes, and wouldn’t even take payment for the accommodation, and excellent breakfasts she provided. Said it was a poor do if you couldn’t do someone a good turn.’ Lissa knew she was over-explaining, but somehow felt she should fill the silence.
Jan’s eyes danced. ‘I’m sure. Very sensible on the hills. our Derry.’
‘Weren’t you worried when we didn’t come home? We thought you might call out the mountain rescue.’
‘Er, I stayed over at a friend’s house myself,’ Jan said. ‘So, come on. Tell all.’
‘Stop it, Jan. It was very...’
‘What? Innocent? Sweet? Passionate?’
Wishing Water Page 17