Wishing Water

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Wishing Water Page 36

by Freda Lightfoot


  ‘As you wish. Two-thirty then for the twins, on the dot.’

  ‘Two-thirty.’

  She had the twins ready in their new hooded jackets when Nanny called. Lissa kissed each in turn, making sure their mittens, hanging on a tape threaded through their knitted coat, were fitted on each small hand. ‘No taking them off now,’ she warned. ‘It’s quite cold out.’ Lissa smiled at Nanny Sue. ‘Watch Beth, she might be starting with a cold. Perhaps she shouldn’t come with you.’

  ‘Fresh air never did a cold any harm,’ said the starchy nanny, well wrapped up in her grey overcoat, hat and warm scarf. ‘Come along girls, Daddy is waiting.’ And with a wave and a kiss, they left.

  That Sunday afternoon Derry was saying goodbye to his sister. They’d enjoyed a substantial roast lunch and she had issued her usual list of instructions about not leaving it so long next time. Hugging her, Derry made his promises.

  ‘I’ll walk up to Broombank and say goodbye to Meg and Tam, then stay with Dad tonight and be off first thing in the morning.’

  Jan looked sorrowful. ‘You’ll say goodbye to Lissa before you go?’

  Derry drew in a quick breath and briefly shook his head. ‘We’ve said all there is to say. Stop your bossing, sister dear. Produce lots more nephews and nieces for me.’ And dodging her slap he went off, laughing. If he hadn’t, he might well have cried.

  Meg was far more blunt and to the point. ‘I was wrong about you, lad,’ she said as she met him at the door and kissed his cheek. ‘I’m sorry. If I hadn’t interfered that day perhaps things might have been different for you two.’

  Derry shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Mistakes have been made, and there are complications.’

  Meg stood with him in the old porch at Broombank, her grey eyes troubled. ‘Lissa isn’t happy about your leaving though, is she?’

  Derry gave her a quizzical look. ‘She’s told you that her marriage is over?’

  Meg gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Eventually she did. She’s so proud, bottles everything up. Always has. Oh, but I grieve for her, I really do. Not that I was surprised. The cracks have been showing for a while. Only this will make her feel even more unwanted and rejected.’

  ‘She left him, not the other way about.’

  ‘Even so, divorce represents failure, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Philip won’t give her grounds, so...’

  ‘So you have to go or you’ll complicate matters?’ A small silence fell as Meg nodded her understanding. ‘We’ve made up our difference, Lissa and me, but I often think she’d have been so much happier if she had at least visited Kath in Canada, if only once. A girl should have the chance to get to know her own mother a little. I can see now that it might have helped, perhaps to understand who she was a bit better.’

  ‘Would it bother you if she visited her?’

  Meg shook her head. ‘Not now.’

  ‘Why did Kath make all those promises, but never came?’

  Meg wrapped her arms about her body, rubbing them with work-worn hands as a chill breeze rattled around the porch. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps she thought it was for the best not to interfere, and she was racked with guilt. She wasn’t a bad girl, you know.’ Meg gave a wry smile. ‘Funny, I still think of her as a girl. We were good friends once but life played a few tricks on us. All in the past now.’

  Derry had meant to keep away, but he couldn’t. He had to see her one more time, for all his determination not to. An hour after leaving Broombank, he called at the shop and found Lissa jubilant.

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad you came. I’ve been frantically ringing everyone, trying to locate you. You won’t believe what’s happened.’

  She was bubbling over with excitement and they sat together on the old sofa, holding hands while she told him her news. ‘So you see, you don’t have to go. You can stay for ever. Philip has agreed to give me my divorce. I’ve signed the papers.’ Blushing now, dropping her gaze in a sudden rush of shyness. ‘I’m free.’

  He lifted her chin with a caressing hand that very faintly shook, brown eyes ablaze with love. ‘And what will you do with this new freedom, do you reckon?’

  Lissa felt transfixed by him, held a willing captive by his gaze. ‘Have you any suggestions?’

  Derry chuckled softly. ‘How long will the children be out?’

  She pretended to consider as she got up and drew the curtains, unbuttoning her blouse as she moved quietly back to him. ‘At least three hours.’

  They were both far too eager to worry about going to bed. Derry took her there and then, on the rug, with only half her clothes off. Later they bathed together and made love again, teasing and loving for the rest of the afternoon. Lissa discovered in those what it was to be truly loved by a man. Not for Derry a selfish, cruel coupling. He stroked and kissed, loved and caressed her, and they made love with joy, quenching a long held thirst.

  Afterwards, they wrapped themselves together in a sheet and talked by the light of the fire.

  ‘I’ve waited so long for you. Never thought this would ever happen.’ Derry’s arms were sheltering her nakedness beneath the sheet while he kissed her hair, her face, her eyes and ears, making her giggle with delight.

  ‘Darling, darling Derry. Don’t ever leave me. I’d die if you left me now.’

  They talked of everything and nothing, as lovers do, and every touch set them on fire for more, breathless with fresh desire. And they talked of a future together.

  ‘I’d give this all up for you,’ she said. ‘If your work is more important, or you could find a job here. I don’t mind, the decision is yours. So long as we’re together, I don’t really care where we live or what we do. I shall be yours, completely.’ Violet eyes shining, translucent with love. ‘Mrs Derry Colwith. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?’

  Derry pretended to frown. ‘Did I ask you to marry me? When was that? I must have missed it.’

  She playfully slapped him, straddling him so she could pretend to beat him on his chest. ‘OK, have it your own way. You aren’t the only man in the world.’

  ‘Vixen.’ Then he rolled her over, taking her again in a paroxysm of passion that left her gasping and spent. ‘What was that about other men?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  Only slowly did Lissa drag herself back to the present, as if coming from a distant country, her mind drugged with love, her senses aware of nothing but the warmth of his body against hers, the sweetness of his mouth, the slick of his sweat mingling with her own.

  She made tea and they forgot to drink it, still endlessly talking and planning. In the distance the church clock began to strike and they lost count of the chimes. But Lissa began to worry. ‘You ought to go. Nanny Sue will be back with the twins any minute. They mustn’t see you here. It would ruin everything.’ She saw his quick frown. ‘We must be patient and keep away from each other for a little while longer until the divorce is through. It will be worth it in the end, my darling. Then we can be together forever.’

  Lissa helped him to dress which took an uncommonly long time, then hastily pulled on a skirt and blouse, desperately tidying her hair. ‘I must try to look normal, as if I’ve spent the afternoon doing my accounts.’

  ‘You look as if you’ve been happily tumbled in the hay.’ He grinned. ‘I’d splash some cold water on those hot little cheeks if I were you.’

  Giggling and concerned, she hurried off to the bathroom as the church clock chimed six.

  ‘Heavens, you must hurry.’ She was desperate now to persuade him to leave. ‘Oh, do go,’ kissing him, clinging to him a moment longer as she pushed him through the door into the cold, empty street. ‘Any second and they’ll be here. Hurry.’

  When she was finally alone Lissa flew about the small flat tidying and titivating, making it look neat and calm, as if she’d spent a quiet, lonely day instead of one that had changed her life for ever.

  By seven o’clock when there was still no sign of the twins she reached for the phone. Where were they? Why didn’t s
omeone answer? Fear grew like cold molten lead in her stomach. Philip couldn’t have taken them, could he? She’d done everything right, everything proper to keep them safe. Apart from this afternoon.

  Surely Philip couldn’t know that Derry had been here with her? Could he?

  Oh God, what if he did? What if he had seen Derry leave? She should never have let him in, never have let him make love to her. She’d wanted him so much how could she help herself? And they’d been so thrilled by Philip’s agreement to a divorce. He couldn’t be so cruel, could he?

  Fear overwhelmed her and Lissa felt suddenly, desperately alone. If she lost the twins her life wouldn’t be worth living. Hadn’t she always put them first? Why on earth had she taken such a stupid risk? Now she might have ruined everything.

  For some reason it made her think of her own mother. Perhaps Kath too had tried to put her child first, and failed. Perhaps she’d wanted to keep her, and in the end couldn’t. Dare she be so quick to judge others when she was capable of mistakes and selfishness herself?

  The door bell rang and Lissa jumped as if she’d been stabbed. She was there in seconds, flinging open the door.

  ‘I’m so sorry they are late, Mrs Brandon,’ said Nanny Sue, looking unusually breathless and rumpled. ‘The car broke down and we had to wait for the garage to come out and rescue us.’

  Lissa dredged up a smile as her arms greedily gathered her children to her breast. ‘That’s all right, I wasn’t worried.’

  But as she lay in bed that night, curled up and weeping, Lissa recognised that she was still vulnerable after all. Perhaps she always would be.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A figure stepped out of the shadows on Fossburn Street as Derry approached Nab Cottage. His skin could still feel the imprint of Lissa’s touch, his mouth was still curved into a smile. He’d even started to whistle an old favourite melody, ‘Young Love, First Love,’ as if he were a boy again. Now he stood and stared, his whole body alert.

  ‘Whistle away,’ said the voice. ‘This is your last night in Carreckwater.’ Philip Brandon blocked his path, mouth twisted in malice.

  ‘Who says so?’

  Philip smiled and Derry was filled with foreboding. This man never looked happy without good reason. ‘You’re taking the train tomorrow. For Manchester, London, America, Timbuktu, I don’t care. Just make sure you catch it.’

  ‘I’m in no hurry to leave.’

  Philip slipped his hands into his pockets, to indicate he had no need to resort to fisticuffs. Physical violence was not his style. ‘I think you will be. If you’ve been with my wife this evening, as I suspect, you’ll know she was very anxious over the fact the twins were late home.’

  What game was Brandon playing? Had he deliberately brought the twins back late just to prove a point? ‘I’ve been to the Marina Hotel as a matter of fact, for a drink.’ It was true, only he’d gone there after he left Lissa.

  Brandon gave a shrug of contempt. ‘As you wish. I thought it prudent to demonstrate to my wife that I still hold the power. She may keep the twins only so long as I allow it. And there are rules. One of which is she is not to have anything to do with other men, particularly you.’

  ‘That’s only until the divorce is finalised,’ Derry said, gritting his teeth on a fast disappearing patience.

  Philip Brandon looked mildly surprised, dark brows lifted in polite enquiry. ‘What divorce? I’ve said nothing about divorce.’

  ‘You took a paper to her to sign. She told me.’ Derry groaned as he saw Philip’s smile broaden, for he’d carelessly given away the fact that he had seen, or at least spoken to Lissa today. ‘She rang me,’ he blustered, with little conviction. Philip only laughed.

  ‘Then she must be confused. She often is. Haven’t you noticed how very incompetent she is? Sweet but rather stupid.’

  ‘I don’t see her that way at all.’

  ‘Then perhaps you would like to see the paper to which she refers?’ Brandon held it out and Derry found himself scanning the small print with growing horror.

  ‘These aren’t divorce papers.’

  ‘I never said that they were. I merely acknowledged that Lissa wanted a divorce and perhaps we should be mature, modern people and end this sham of a marriage. But in my own time, if all else fails, and on my terms. Perhaps I forgot to add that small rider.’

  Derry was tearing up the paper and throwing it all over the pavement. Philip laughed, a bitter, hollow sound in the empty street. ‘That’s only a copy, of course. I have the confession of her adultery with you, for that, as you see, is what it is, safely locked in my safe. If you want her to keep her beloved children, and you know how precious they are to her, Lissa herself being only a foster child, then you will leave Carreckwater without delay.’

  Derry could feel his stomach shaking with rage. He had never felt more helpless in his life. ‘And if I refuse?’

  Philip shrugged. ‘Then I will remove them from her care. A married woman with a lover is not considered a fit person to have care of young children.’

  Derry took a half step towards him but Brandon didn’t even flinch. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you. I am within my rights - as their father.’

  ‘You’ve never been a father to them. Lissa has told me how you simply issue orders, expect them to be neat and perfect to gratify your ego. You don’t even love them, not as Lissa loves them. You leave them with the nanny all the damn time.’

  ‘Hardly unusual. Half the aristocracy was brought up that way.’

  Derry was clenching his fists in fury, desperately preventing himself from smashing one in Brandon’s face. ‘A child needs a loving family. You’re twisted and sly and yes, dammit, for all your charm you’re evil and cruel.’

  Brandon burst out laughing. ‘How very melodramatic you sound. The point is, I will choose their future, not Lissa. And what I decide depends very much upon you, Colwith. When Lissa finds that you have gone, without a word, she will see that you are as unreliable as ever. As I warned her you would be. She’ll be more than ready to return home.’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘As you see, I have ways of making people do exactly as I wish. I can’t say it’s been pleasant knowing you, but it is certainly a pleasure to say goodbye. First train in the morning, remember.’

  Meg rang Lissa on Monday morning to ask her to come up to Broombank. ‘I have a problem I’d like to talk over with you, it’s rather urgent.’

  Lissa arranged for Renee to take the twins to school and pick them up at lunchtime if she wasn’t back in time. ‘I’m sorry to dump them on you but there seems to be some sort of emergency at Broombank.’

  She was smiling, untroubled as her mind replayed those hours with Derry. Yes, she had broken her marriage vows, and the twins being late had given her a scare. But Philip had agreed to a divorce and soon she and Derry could be together for always. Then they could lie together and love every night, without restraint or fear. Lissa’s stomach clenched with excitement at the prospect. How long would the divorce take? she wondered. She could hardly wait, making a mental note to ring her solicitor and ask him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Renee was saying. ‘We can manage fine. I welcome any excuse to play with those little terrors - sorry - treasures.’

  Laughing, Lissa kissed the twins and went on her way. There was a lingering tang of autumn still in the air as she drove through the wooded valleys, the bite of winter coming fast on its heel as she climbed higher. The mountains looked paler than usual against the blue sky, as if already glazed by a coating of hoar frost. Meg met her at the farm gate and Lissa saw at once that something was wrong. She looked weary, older somehow.

  ‘You should have talked to me. I’m your mother,’ Meg scolded, putting her arms about Lissa and drawing her close.

  ‘I know, only I wanted to decide first what I was going to do. It’s sorted now. Everything is going to be fine.’

  They walked together over the heaf as they so loved to do and Lissa struggled to open her heart. Fo
r such an instinctively private person it wasn’t easy. She told Meg of the papers she’d signed, how she would soon be free.

  ‘Philip has agreed then to a divorce? I’m surprised it was so easy. However, your marital problems are not the only reason I asked you to call.’ Meg handed Lissa a letter. ‘Take a look at that.’

  They sat on the drystone wall of the old pack horse bridge while Lissa read, and as she did her heart sank. ‘I never thought he would do it.’

  Meg turned startled eyes upon her. ‘Never thought who would do what?’

  ‘Philip. He threatened to bribe the water consultant into choosing Broombank as a suitable site for the reservoir, if I refused to stop seeing Derry.’

  A small, dreadful silence. ‘And you did refuse?’

  ‘No, but I didn’t really believe he’d do it.’

  Meg’s grey eyes seemed to darken and grow bleak, for all her tone still rang with her indomitable spirit. ‘Look at this land.’ She lifted one hand in a gesture partly possessive and partly indicating despair. ‘It’s mine; and has been these last twenty years and more.’

  ‘I’m aware of that, I never meant this to happen.’

  ‘Most of this dale is good, sound land, productive enough to grow a little corn during the war. Admittedly my sheep spend most of their time high on the fells but the intake land is important to keep them in good heart at lambing times. I could never leave here, Lissa. It is a part of me: the house, the land, everything.’

  ‘Meg, I know.’

  ‘I drained some of the wet parts,’ she went on, as if Lissa had not spoken. ‘It was back-breaking work. But there are still patches of bog where no bracken or good grass grows. In the spring and summer you’ll find those pale mauve marsh orchids, kingcups and bog myrtle. There are the troublesome sedge rushes, yes, but even they have their uses, building up the silt, holding it together.’ Her voice took on an edge of passion. ‘The larks and meadow pipits love it too, as do the thrushes and merlins, the deer and the stoats, the tiny fritillary butterflies who depend on the sweet violets for their survival. We all depend on this land. And no one, no one, must be allowed to harm it.’

 

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