Wishing Water

by Freda Lightfoot

  Renee was astounded, gave a false little laugh, determined not to let him see how her heart was pounding. ‘You expect Lissa to come back?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll be back all right, once she realises what is best for her, and for the twins. Once Lissa realises she could lose them, and her precious Broombank, if she doesn’t. She’s confessed to adultery in her futile efforts to gain a divorce, and compounded her sin by permitting your precious stepson to visit her yesterday afternoon while sending the children off with nanny.’

  Renee gasped. ‘Were you spying on her?’

  ‘It was quite by chance that I saw him, but the courts will take a very dim view of such loose behaviour. She’s unfit to be given custody of the children. Whereas I have done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. Tell Lissa I will forgive her all her indiscretions and she may return at any time.’

  ‘You dirty, blackmailing bastard. You’ll get no help from me. You can deliver your own damned messages.’ Renee was stopped by one finger pressed against her lips, silencing her most effectively.

  ‘I dislike people who disagree with me,’ he said, so pleasantly they might have been discussing the weather, except for the feverish glitter in his dark eyes.

  My God, he’s up the pole, Renee thought. Stark, raving mad.

  ‘I won’t have it. Not from Felicity, not from Lissa, and certainly not from you. Do you understand?’

  The finger slid from her lips and trailed down her throat, tracing a path to the cleft between her full breasts. ‘Ere, gerroff,’ Renee choked, knocking his hand away. No wonder Lissa had left him. He was creepy. ‘I’m taking them nippers back with me. Soon as I can lay my hands on them,’ she said, with more bravado than she felt. He had beaten her, as he did them all, in the end.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Derry was waiting at the door when Lissa got home that evening. She wanted to fling her arms about his neck and kiss him but he led her into the little living room and turned her to him, his face serious.

  ‘You must listen carefully.’ He made her sit down and fold her hands on her lap instead of about his neck and concentrate on what he had to say. ‘Philip cheated Elvira Fraser of most, if not all, of her money. I believe he took it, bit by bit, from her accounts, assuring her that he was investing it safely when all the time he was feeding it into accounts of his own.’

  Lissa stared at him, bemused. ‘What are you saying? What is all this?’

  ‘I even remember acting as errand boy for him, only I was too young and green to understand what he was up to. And who is there to check on him, a solicitor in sole practice?’ He explained about attending Elvira Fraser’s funeral, and of his visits to The Birches and the council home.

  ‘I spoke to her grandson, David, and he’s going to do some investigating.’

  Lissa said, ‘Elvira Fraser? I met her once. She was old, and sick. We bought her house, which is all very sad, but how does that affect me, or Philip?’

  ‘I’m not sure she was even aware at the time that she was selling it. Philip had her sign so many papers, her mind was probably spinning. And she was old, vulnerable, and at odds with her family. A perfect candidate for an unscrupulous solicitor. Perhaps there were other clients, equally vulnerable.’

  Lissa stared at Derry as if she had never seen him before. ‘Are you saying that Philip is a fraud?’

  He put out his hands, stroked her arms, urging her to remain calm. ‘I have more news for you, Lissa. And it isn’t good.’

  He hunkered down beside her, gathered her hands warmly into his own, and her smile, so full of trust and love, almost made him change his mind. But no, she must be told, and he was the only one to do it.

  He revealed what Philip had told him, that she’d signed a confession of adultery, and not the divorce papers at all. Lissa sat in stunned silence, her confidence crumbling before his eyes.

  ‘I signed a confession?’ Her voice barely had the strength to reach her lips. ‘It wasn’t the divorce papers?’

  Derry shook his head, stroking her hands, wishing he could do anything to take this pain from her. ‘Philip intends to use it to blackmail you to return to him.’

  Lissa started, as if he had slapped her. ‘Return? Never. What if I have admitted to adultery?’ she went on, in a wild moment of bravery. ‘What of it? I’ve seen today how he means to wreck the lives of a dozen families in my dale and I’ve spent all day fighting him. I shall spend my life fighting him if I have to.’ Tears were shining in her eyes, spilling over on to pale cheeks. ‘He thinks he can ruin Broombank, destroy my family’s home and my independence. Well, he can’t. We won’t let them flood the valley, we won’t.’

  Her voice was rising, growing close to hysteria and Derry put his mouth to her cheek, hushing and soothing her. ‘Tell me slowly what else has happened.’

  Lissa gulped and swallowed her tears and explained about Meg’s letter from the Water Board, and of Philip’s involvement. ‘I won’t let them do it, I won’t. I thought it was simply an empty threat. I never imagined he had the power, not really.’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t, my darling. But then it isn’t really power. He simply cheats.’

  ‘Oh, Derry, it’s the same thing in the end.’ Her mind was in turmoil, her heart plummeting in despair.

  ‘Let’s go and see this water consultant. Is he back at Nab Cottage?’

  She was at once on her feet. ‘I’m not sure, but I have to collect the twins from Renee in any case. I shall tackle him on the subject at the same time. Philip won’t beat us, Derry. We won’t let him.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed, holding her close and not letting her see the concern on his face. ‘We won’t let him beat us.’

  The water consultant was not at Nab Cottage but Renee was, sitting in her chair by the new teak effect electric fire, her face a white mask of anguish. Even her lips were white, with not a trace of lipstick.

  ‘Oh, Lissa, what can I say? I was barely ten minutes late. Ten minutes! I was so busy doing the orders that I forgot the time. But I knew the teacher would keep them safe, only I never expected Philip Brandon to beat me to it. I went round, right away.’ She was gabbling now, trying to assuage her pain and the terrible shame of failure.

  ‘What are you saying? What happened? Where are they?’ Lissa was distraught but desperately struggling to keep a hold on her fast disappearing control.

  Renee struggled to speak through the lump in her throat. ‘Dental check-up, he said. With Nanny. But he’s taken them back home and intends them to stay.’

  ‘Oh, dear God!’ Lissa’s cry of anguish cut Renee’s heart in two.

  ‘Don’t,’ she gasped, reaching out to grasp her friend, voice and heart broken. ‘I’ll get them back for you, Lissa, I promise.’

  ‘Did he hurt you?’ Jimmy wanted to know, bouncing to his feet. ‘I’ll kill him if he did.’

  ‘No,’ Renee lied, instinctively touching her throat. ‘Why would he hurt me?’ She’d thought for a minute that he might snuff her out with his finger and thumb, like a candle.

  Derry put his hand on Renee’s shoulder, trying to console her. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Renee. Don’t torment yourself, but you’d best tell it all. What exactly did he say?’

  When Renee had finished, the tears were raining down and washing mascara in black streaks down her death pale face. Nobody could find any words of consolation or hope. He had won. It was as simple as that.

  Lissa turned on Derry like a lash. ‘It’s all your fault,’ she screamed. ‘If you’d gone back to America, like I asked you to long since, as Philip asked you to, this would never have happened. You’ve lost me my children. I’ll never forgive you for that. Never!’

  Derry stood like a man felled. Then, very quietly, he nodded. ‘You’re right. It is my fault. It’s been my fault all along, just because I love you.’

  ‘Lissa, love.’ Renee rushed to her but Lissa shook her off, tears of anger and pain and grieving running in scalding rivers down her ash pale cheeks. When she spoke again her voi
ce was calm, but hard as iron.

  ‘I’m sorry Derry, but you’d best go. Philip has won. If I’m to keep my children I must return to him. Just as he always planned.’

  ‘What about us?’

  ‘We’re finished. It’s over.’

  Lissa went back to the house on the Parade the very next day, if on very different terms. She insisted on her own room, that they be man and wife in name only.

  ‘I will not share your bed. And you don’t ever touch me.’ Violet eyes held a new resolution that even her husband could not ignore. ‘Nanny Sue must go. The children have no need of a nanny now they are at school. The rest of the time they can spend with me, either at home or at the shop. And before you say it, no, I will not be giving up my business. I shall employ a cleaner, or whatever help I need so that your life is not disturbed, but my work will continue.

  ‘I’ll host your dinner parties and otherwise be a wife to you until the children are grown. Nothing more. Is that clear? Those are my terms for returning, take them or leave them.’

  Philip smiled at her, lounging against the door frame of the room she had selected as her own, watching her unpack the few belongings she had taken with her. He’d celebrated her return with half a bottle of scotch and felt particularly mellow. ‘I accept them. This is where you belong, Lissa, with me to care for you.’

  ‘I need no one to care for me, thank you very much,’ she said, tone sharp as spears of ice. ‘In future I’ll look after my own affairs.’ She glanced at him then, trying to ignore the triumph in his eyes. ‘Is it true that you took that old woman’s money?’

  ‘What tale is this you’ve been listening to?’ His face was instantly inscrutable and all Lissa’s doubts returned. Could he really be capable of professional malpractice?

  ‘It has been suggested to me, by a friend, that Elvira Fraser’s grandson is not happy about the way her affairs were conducted. Is that true?’

  Philip stretched his eyes wide in a shocked innocence so genuine, Lissa found it hard not to believe in him. ‘I can guess who that friend is, and it seems to me it’s in his interests to malign my good name, since he is sleeping with my wife.’

  Lissa jerked, the spiteful words hitting home. ‘Is it true?’

  ‘You must believe what you wish to believe. Elvira Fraser was an old and valued client. Were she still with us today she would, I am sure, vouch for me.’

  Lissa struggled to recall some of the old woman’s words on the day she had met her in the home, but they were so jumbled as to be incomprehensible. She slammed shut the wardrobe door and tilted her chin high.

  ‘I want you to realise, Philip, that you won’t win over Broombank. Nor will I permit you to sell Larkrigg. If it belongs to the twins, then it must be kept for them. I’ll fight you on those issues till my last breath. Do you understand.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said mildly. ‘I understand perfectly.’

  It was Renee who gently broke the news to her that Derry had finally gone. ‘He caught the train to London this morning. Said he had some business to do there before going back to the States.’

  ‘I really don’t want to hear,’ Lissa said, heart breaking.

  It made the hurt worse to think that her last words to him had been harsh and cruel, but then perhaps it was for the best. It might help her to keep the reality of her situation in mind and forget about romance and the love. Look where her quest for love had led her? None from her real mother, none from her husband, and that which she had found with Derry had constantly been denied her.

  She must think of her children now. If Philip had won the battle of their marriage and broken her heart in the process there was other work left for her to do. A shop to run for one thing. Broomdale for another. She was determined not to see that valley flooded.

  The business suffered from neglect in the weeks following as Lissa returned with renewed vigour to the campaign against the water board, though with more sense of desperation than design. It was hard to know how best to fight it since all the arguments had already been made by every association in Lakeland and beyond. Lissa spoke to all of the local councillors and succeeded in enlisting the support of many. She visited every house in the area with leaflets she’d had printed, gave endless interviews to the press and held meetings in the old school hall. Time after time she hounded the National Parks Committee, the Planning Board and every other body she could think of, to give her their support. They were always sympathetic but continued to put their main resources into saving Winster. Reasonable as this was, it left Lissa feeling isolated.

  She even tackled Andrew Spencer, the water consultant, and though he admitted to accepting Philip’s bribe, he insisted it was out of his hands now.

  ‘They’ll send in the geologists and the engineers and that’ll be that. Then the Board will make the decision, not me.’

  ‘The National Farmers’ Union is right behind us,’ Meg told him. ‘And both the District and County Councils. They want water extraction from the lakes rather than a reservoir. With suitable conditions attached, of course.’

  ‘But how to win our case?’ Lissa groaned. ‘We need evidence, some good reason to put forward for them not using Broomdale.’

  ‘You mean beyond the fact that it’ll destroy top grade farming land and wild life habitats?’ said Meg dryly.

  Lissa acknowledged these words with a sad shake of her head. ‘Having right on your side is never enough though, is it?’ It hadn’t been enough to win her freedom from Philip. And in their cold, sterile life together Lissa despaired of ever knowing the joy of love again.

  It was apparently, perfectly legal for him virtually to rape her within the sanctity of marriage, just as the Water Board was permitted to rape their land.

  ‘You look done in,’ Meg told her softly. ‘You need to get more sleep.’

  ‘Of course I need more sleep,’ Lissa snapped, then apologised when she saw Meg’s face. ‘Sorry. Not your fault. But what can we do? Everyone is sympathetic, or supportive but more concerned over the possible loss of Winster. Jimmy and the other boatmen are worried that the extraction of water from the lake will lower the water level too much, ruin the shoreline and prove a hazard to the tourist industry. Others are concerned about the rivers, or tunnels under Longsleddale. How can we all win? It isn’t possible.’

  And how could she find the strength to continue with her fight? She was tired of fighting. Her own future looked bleak whatever happened, and all her energy was used up.

  Lissa sat by the big hearth at Broombank, despair and failure eating into her soul. In this mood she almost believed Philip’s judgement of her to be correct. She was incompetent. A useless mother, wife, and even daughter to Meg. She could feel the tears standing proud in her eyes but refused to shed them. The time for crying was done.

  ‘Thee’ll get no work done by laiking theer,’ said Joe, coming in on an icy blast of wind and settling himself with his pipe in the opposite corner.

  Meg gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s good to see you’re so busy, Father.’

  ‘A chap can take a spell to put up his feet I dare swear, when he’s visiting his family.’ He adjusted his cap upon his head, without removing it, and looked from his daughter to his granddaughter as he sucked on his pipe and waited for his pint pot of tea to be brought to him. ‘Well, you two’s a cheerful pair, I must say. Lost a shilling and found an ’appeny, have thee?’

  ‘Don’t start, Father,’ Meg warned.

  ‘Is it this water business?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Don’t say they’ve got you licked?’

  Lissa sank back in her chair and tried to smile. ‘Yes, Grandad, I think they have. But then, when do I ever win?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re both worrying over. It’ll never happen.’

  Lissa sighed, unable to summon the energy to bring one old man into the present. ‘It’s looking as thought it will.’

  ‘Over my dead body. Anyroad, it’ll cost too much. Don’t carry water well,
don’t limestone.’ His tone was scornful. ‘This dale ain’t like Thirlmere, or Mardale, with half a lake in it already. And the dam’ll have to be twice as wide. Bankrupt the Water Board, it would. Won’t be done in my lifetime, that’s for sure. Never find the money.’

  Lissa leaned forward in her chair, staring at the old man. ‘What did you say?’

  Joe was always happy to repeat himself when he had an attentive audience, so he said it all over again, at leisure. But Lissa was on her feet before he’d finished.

  ‘I have to go.’ Then she was running out of the house, getting in the van and driving with the wind in her tail all the way back to Carreckwater.

  At Nab Cottage the water consultant had just sunk his knife into a steak and kidney pudding, his favourite repast, when Lissa burst in without even a knock.

  ‘When are the geologists coming?’ she demanded. Jimmy, Renee, and Andrew Spencer stared at her, mouths agape as if she had dropped through the roof.

  ‘Er ... it’s on their rota of visits,’ said the Manchester man in pompous tones. ‘I can’t say exactly when. Why?’ He lifted a forkful of succulent steak and steaming pastry to his mouth but Lissa stopped him.

  ‘You know that any dam they build will have to be wider than Mardale’s, and more expensive?’

  ‘We’ve taken that into account,’ he informed her loftily, irritated by the way she was holding on to his wrist while the tantalising drift of steam from the rich meat and gravy tickled his nostrils. ‘The reservoir would also be twice the size and therefore more profitable.’

  ‘Have you taken into account the quality of the stone?’

  ‘That is for the geologists to investigate but I see no problem.’ Again he attempted to lift his fork but Lissa was having none of it. She held fast.

  ‘There’s a limestone pavement runs right under the dale, did you know that? Full of cracks and crevices, nooks and crannies that would never hold water in a million years. Never has so far, apart from one boggy bit that we leave to nature. Have you taken that into account, Mr Water Consultant?’