Wishing Water

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Stop asking questions,’ Lissa complained, rubbing vigorously at the glass, already sparkling with her efforts.

  Jan tucked her hair behind her ears and grinned. ‘So nothing happened then? How very disappointing.’

  Lissa marched away, chin high, to beat her duster on the door post, setting both girls into a fit of coughing, well mingled with laughter.

  ‘To more mundane matters, have you seen the dragon this morning?’

  Lissa shook her head, not really concentrating on what Jan was saying, her head too full of the delights of her Sunday walk and the way Derry had lingered over his goodbye kisses this morning at the bus stop.

  ‘She isn’t usually late. And she has the stock room key. Until she comes we can’t get in there, not even to make our morning cuppa.’

  Lissa frowned. ‘How did you get in the shop then?’

  ‘Oh, she trusts me to keep a key for that, so we can get in and start cleaning. But we can’t serve anybody until we get the change from the safe.’ Jan was looking worried. ‘I think I’ll nip to the post office and telephone her. She might be ill or something.’

  Moments later she was back, looking more anxious than ever. ‘No reply. What do you think can have happened? This isn’t like her at all.’

  ‘She’s probably on her way right now.’ Lissa started to polish the glass counters. She felt so good this morning, as if a new life had begun, which in a way it had. She and Derry had made arrangements to meet again this evening and her stomach was churning already with the agony of anticipation. How could she wait a whole day before seeing him?

  It was when she carried some old stands out to the narrow dark corridor which ran behind the main shop that Lissa heard the sound. No more than an echo it made her spine prickle, and she wondered for a moment if she’d imagined it. She froze, one hand caught in mid-air. When it came again she knew it must be real.

  It was a groan. Miss Stevens was locked in the stock room. Dropping the stands with a clatter, Lissa ran for Jan.

  ‘I should have realised,’ she mourned. ‘I felt sure something like this might happen one day. She’s probably drunk as a lord.’

  ‘Drunk?’

  ‘Likes a little nip does our Stella. She’s discreet, I’ll give her that, but she can’t count. And she has a bad stomach. Oh, what if she’s been there all weekend?’

  They banged on the door, tried to force the lock but it wouldn’t budge and there was only silence now from within. The two girls gazed at each other in horror.

  ‘What ought we to do? How can we get her out without a key? Is there a back door?’

  Jan shook her head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Who will have a spare?’

  Jan thought about this for a minute then her face brightened. ‘Her solicitor. He has a complete set as a precaution, since she’s a maiden lady with no relatives. I remember her telling me soon after I came to work here.’

  ‘Which solicitor?’

  ‘Derry’s boss. Philip Brandon. There we are then, since you know him so well and have been given the privilege of a sail in his spanking yacht, you can have the pleasure of informing him that his esteemed client is three sheets to the wind.’

  Lissa giggled but then quickly sobered. ‘This isn’t funny. Miss Stevens could be in dire difficulties. Perhaps we should call the police, or an ambulance?’

  Jan looked alarmed. ‘They’d break down the door and she’d be furious. No, fetch Philip Brandon. He’ll have a key and know exactly what to do.’

  Lissa was already putting on her coat.

  ‘Anyway, give you the chance to see our Derry again, won’t it?’ Jan said, grinning wickedly, and Lissa’s cheeks flamed.

  ‘Really, Jan, there’s a time and a place.’ And she dashed off, trying to ignore the fast beating of her heart which had very little to do with Miss Stevens’ predicament.

  When Lissa reached the offices of Brandon and Brandon, there was no sign of Derry. Probably out on one of his many errands.

  Miss Henshaw showed her straight in, and when Philip heard her tale he put on his coat right away.

  So it was that as Derry turned the corner of Benthwaite Cross on his return from the post office where he’d been making yet another of his long-distance calls, he saw Lissa climbing into Philip Brandon’s car. She was smiling up at his ex-boss, apparently thanking him most profusely, and Brandon was preening himself, as he usually did.

  Derry felt as if he’d been kicked in the teeth.

  He hid in a doorway to watch as the car drove slowly past, his face tight with misery. To think he’d actually felt sorry for her, and been nervous about admitting he was going away. She wouldn’t miss him for more than a minute.

  Miss Stevens was found in a crumpled heap in the comer of the stock room, an empty bottle of Milk of Magnesia clutched tightly in her hand and vomit all down the front of her best fair isle jumper. She was still alive, though how she had survived all weekend was considered a miracle. After the ambulance had carried her away both girls gave way to weeping.

  Philip held them gently in his arms, patting, soothing, paying particular attention to Lissa.

  ‘If I hadn’t heard her,’ Lissa mourned, ‘how long might she have stayed there? Oh, I do wish we’d found her earlier. We were so busy talking we never thought.’ And she was off again, borrowing his great white handkerchief and sobbing her guilt into it while Jan recovered sufficiently to pull down the blinds and lock the door.

  ‘We’d best close for today, out of respect,’ she decided. ‘Will she be in hospital long, d’you think? How will we manage?’

  Philip took it upon himself to supply the answers. ‘Who can say? You must carry on as before. I shall leave you with a complete set of keys, and you can bring the takings to me each evening when you lock up. I’ll keep a watch on matters for Miss Stevens, never fear,’ he reassured, delighted with this turn of events that would give him the opportunity to see more of Lissa.

  I’ll bet you will, Jan thought, but only smiled, and agreed to do as he asked.

  The letter was waiting for her when they got back to the boathouse. It lay on the mat, and Lissa picked it up with a soft smile on her face.

  ‘It’s from Derry.’ She hurried off to her room to read it in private.

  ‘Lissa, Lost my job. Can’t explain everything now but am on my way to Manchester. We’ve a chance of a recording contract. Who knows where it might lead? Can’t believe our luck. Will write later and let you know when I’ll be back. Derry.’

  She read the letter through several times before the full meaning of the words finally penetrate, seeking a word, a hint of his feelings for her.

  He hadn’t even signed it ‘with love’. Only his precious recording contract seemed to matter. Yet he promised he’d be back. Lissa, grasping at straws, read the letter for a fourth time. Yes, it definitely stated, Will write later and let you know when I’ll be back. So it wasn’t over between them. She simply had to trust him, and wait.

  During the following weeks the note almost fell to pieces, so often did she read it. Jan kept on reminding Lissa how he would write to tell her when he’d be home. Lissa would smile and wonder why a letter never came. But then she knew all about promises written in letters.

  ‘Don’t give up on him. He’s not the best letter writer in the world but he’s honest. Believe in him.’

  ‘I do.’ Lissa said, trying to be convinced. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you loved someone?

  Not that Jan was around as much as Lissa would have liked. Most weekends she went off to visit this new friend she’d acquired, and since she volunteered no further information on him, Lissa didn’t like to ask for details. But she felt the loss of her company, and a slight coolness sprang up between them for the first time.

  Miss Stevens made good progress following an operation for a stomach ulcer, but would be away from business for some months, recovering. Philip Brandon informed them that she was happy for the current system to continue until she�
�d decided what best to do about the shop.

  ‘You mean she might close it?’ Lissa asked, stunned.

  ‘She may well decide to retire. She is well past fifty and not in good health. But there is no immediate cause for concern,’ he assured them. ‘I trust you will not desert her for some other employment in her hour of need?’

  Lissa was shocked. ‘Of course not.’ But if she lost her job, she could go with Derry. Manchester, London, anywhere. What did it matter so long as they were together, and he wanted her?

  But still there was no word.

  Then one day Tony’s mother came into the shop and told them the recording deal had been a flop, and the band were all coming home. ‘He and Helen are engaged, so we have a wedding to look forward to in the spring.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely!’ Lissa gazed enviously at the woman, so obviously pleased with herself. ‘They’re coming home, you say?’

  ‘Yes, dear. Next Wednesday, on the midday bus.’

  ‘Derry too?’

  ‘Of course Derry too. He said for you to meet him at the bus station. Since it’s your half day.’

  When Mrs Courtney had gone, making them promise to come to the wedding, which was certain to be the most spectacular event Carreckwater had ever seen, Jan gave a loud cheer and Lissa lifted shining eyes to hers. ‘He’s coming home.’

  So thrilled was she, that she even told Philip Brandon the moment he walked into the shop that evening.

  He’d called every day, as agreed, for the takings and to check they locked up properly, often walking the girls home afterwards. Jan’s presence irritated him but he hadn’t quite worked out a way to avoid her. Today she’d left early for once, and gone off somewhere. Nor had Lissa yet agreed to go out with him again, though he’d asked her a couple of times. Now he saw the excitement in her face at the prospect of his ex-clerk’s return.

  Philip felt a deep resentment thinking how patient he’d been, waiting for Lissa to grow up. Then when he’d seen her fix her attention on his clerk he’d set out to beat him in the yacht race and for her heart. In the end he’d been forced to give Derry the sack. Lissa didn’t seem to know about that. Perhaps it was time that she did. Hadn’t he been patient long enough?

  Taking her elbow, Philip steered her across Carndale Road. ‘I hope he’s achieved whatever he set out to achieve.’

  So that he’ll stay in Manchester indefinitely, came the thought.

  Lissa pulled a wry face as she shook her head. ‘Apparently not. Maybe this will bring him down to earth. No more chasing rainbows.’

  ‘You think Colwith will settle down to a steady job?’ There was disbelief in his tone which caused Lissa to bridle.

  ‘ I believe he will.’

  ‘He’ll need to find a job first.’

  ‘Oh, but I thought you’d take him back.’

  ‘I’m afraid I took on a replacement clerk. He told you, I dare say, that I’d been obliged to sack him?’

  ‘What?’

  Lissa couldn’t take in what he was telling her. That Derry, her Derry, would carry out such a criminal act as damaging a boat was unthinkable. ‘He would never do such a thing!’

  Philip looked sad. ‘I’m afraid Colwith is not quite the innocent you seem to imagine. Those clothes he wears speak volumes. You mustn’t let yourself be fooled by his boyish charm.’

  ‘I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. He wouldn’t touch your yacht.’ But her voice trembled, momentarily uncertain. Derry had always disliked Philip Brandon, swearing he’d do anything to beat him and win that race. But he hadn’t won the race, he’d been disqualified, accused of cheating. Was all this because he was jealous of Philip’s attentions to her?

  Tears filled her eyes and Philip handed her a large white handkerchief. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Let me buy you a drink.’ And before Lissa had time to protest, he was leading her into the Marina Hotel, settling her into a comfortable chair and handing her a brandy.

  It shot like fire through her veins, making her head spin. ‘Oh dear, alcohol on an empty stomach.’

  A meal was duly ordered and brought, and Philip was all attention, smiling, handsome, charming, nothing too much trouble. He was really very kind, she thought, if a bit too serious for her taste. He talked a good deal about how Carreckwater was developing as a town, due in part to tourism, and partly to old money and how those people must never be forgotten. She tried to sound interested but her mind was elsewhere. She must keep her faith in Derry. She must. What else did she have? Even Jan had deserted her these days.

  He walked her home, held her hand briefly as he unlocked the door of the boathouse then smiled into her eyes. ‘I’ve enjoyed this evening. Perhaps we may repeat it some time?’

  Lissa smiled vaguely, not quite seeing him. ‘That would be lovely.’

  What would Derry’s explanation be? He must surely have one. She wouldn’t think the worst until she’d heard his version.

  When Wednesday arrived Lissa was so excited she could hardly sit still. She’d treated herself to a smart new suit with a straight skirt and box jacket in a soft powder blue, a small hat to match, with white gloves and handbag. She brushed her hair till it shone and applied a new lipstick in a bright coral, the most daring colour she’d ever tried. She would have set off a good two hours early had Jan not prevented her.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘No, it’ll spoil my lipstick. What time is it? Why didn’t he write himself?’

  ‘Derry hates writing letters.’

  ‘But what if he no longer cares for me?’

  ‘Of course he still cares. Stop worrying.’

  Jan settled herself in the arm chair and picked up the knitting that was rarely out of her hands these days while Lissa went to the window to look out along the shore just in case he should arrive early, though how he could manage that until the bus came at noon she wasn’t sure. ‘You aren’t going out today, are you?’ Lissa asked. ‘He’ll want to see you too.’

  Jan smiled and shook her head. ‘No, I told my friend I couldn’t come today.’

  At the sight of Jan’s face, Lissa forgot her own affairs and, sitting beside her, gathered Jan’s hands in her own. ‘Won’t you tell me who he is, this man?’

  Jan set down her knitting and gazed at the floor, eyes half closed in her familiar squint. ‘We decided to keep it secret for a while.’

  ‘Why? He isn’t married, is he?’ Lissa waited with trepidation as Jan raised brown eyes, so like Derry’s, to meet her questioning gaze and laugh.

  ‘Heavens, no. It’s Nick. We’ve been going out ever since we met that day we visited your family. We love each other and he wants to marry me.’

  ‘Nick? My Nick?’ Lissa could hardly believe her ears.

  ‘Not your Nick any more.’

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’

  ‘You don’t mind?’

  ‘Why should I mind? I’m delighted. You’re really going to marry Nick?’

  Jan nodded, a wide happy smile lighting her face, giving it a new radiance. ‘He wants the wedding to be as soon as possible.’

  Lissa squealed in delight. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s wonderful. But why keep it a secret? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Jan gave a shamefaced little shrug. ‘I know he had a crush on you for years. He never stopped talking about you the first few times we went out. I had to be sure he really liked me and wasn’t just using me to reach you.’

  Her eyes were bright and Lissa’s heart clenched. ‘Oh, Jan. I’m sure Nick would never do such a thing. We were just good friends, family.’

  She blinked. ‘I know that now. He says he does love you, as an honorary cousin, always will. But his feelings for me are…’ She blushed bright red. ‘Different.’ They were laughing now, squealing with delight.

  ‘Heavens, Derry! What time is it?’

  ‘Go on. Don’t be late. He’ll be as impatient as you. Make sure I’m chief bridesmaid, and you can do the same for me.’

  They hugg
ed one last time then Lissa set off, heels clicking on the slate pavements, a spring in her step, face shining with happiness. Oh, she was so thrilled about Nick and Jan, her two dearest friends. How good life was.

  Bus station was rather a grand term for two shelters and a newsagent’s that doubled as a small booking office. These simple structures linked Carreckwater to the outside world. The railway had never got beyond Windermere, despite valiant efforts by eminent Victorians, so without a car, the bus was the only means of transport. It ran several times a day in the summer. But in the winter, as now, it came twice. If you were lucky. The driver had been known not to bother if he couldn’t rustle up enough passengers. Lissa worried that this might happen today. What if he were left stranded in Windermere?

  She paced restlessly up and down, wishing she’d put on a coat over her new suit for it was bitterly cold. The wind swept down from the hills, swirling up toffee wrappings, discarded bus tickets and dried leaves and depositing them in untidy heaps in the open road, before blowing them all away again.

  Would the bus never come?

  And then she saw it. Small, red, and dearly familiar, it rumbled along as if it had all the time in the world. As if she were not waiting for her life to begin, her heart beating twenty to the dozen. Helen came running up, at the last minute as usual.

  ‘Is it here?’ she gasped, flushed and excited, and Lissa tried not to glance at the sparkle of diamonds on the third finger of her left hand.

  The bus drew up and then Tony was leaping out, Helen was squealing and flinging herself ecstatically into his arms.

  Lissa stepped forward, looking for Derry’s dearly loved face, eager for her own turn.

  A touch on her elbow brought her spinning around, face alight with love. But it was Tony, pink with embarrassment. He was holding out an envelope and Lissa was staring at it as if it were poison.

  A letter? She looked into Tony’s eyes and knew that her own were pleading. Tell me he’s here, they said, but Tony only shuffled his feet, thrust the letter into her reluctant fingers and gathering Helen close, walked quickly away into the wind.