Lakeland Lily

by Freda Lightfoot

  The sun was shining from a wide blue sky with not a sign of a cloud. Close by the shore a heron stood in the shallows collecting its breakfast before lifting powerful wings and taking off low over the sparkling water. Grand houses peeped shyly from behind thick foliage, and the steep green flanks of the surrounding mountains were pencil sharp in the clear air - as if a child had drawn them and coloured them in with her brightest paints. Lily sighed with happiness. Life on the water here was so peaceful, as her home life could not be, which somehow added to her pleasure.

  She was helping a small girl up on to the seat for a better view of Hazel Holme when the shout went up.

  ‘Damned fool, what does he think he’s doing?’

  She glanced up to find The Golden Lady steaming towards them at full speed. Her blood ran cold and she was on her feet in seconds, running to George whose grey face spoke of his fear.

  ‘Where the hell he thinks he’s going, I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Lily.’

  ‘Dear heaven, she’s too big for these waters, let alone ... She shouldn’t even be here!’ One of the unwritten but hard and fast rules was that no two steamers must pass in the narrows between islands. There simply wasn’t room because of the way the land extended beneath the surface of the water around each island, creating dangerously narrow channels. ‘Isn’t she going to stop or change course?’ Lily cried, stunned as the ship steamed relentlessly nearer, leaving Lakeland Lily with no opportunity to get out of the way in time.

  ‘What do we do?’ George asked, panic rising in his voice. Lily didn’t know. Put her in reverse? Try to turn her? While she hesitated, The Golden Lady came inexorably on.

  George and Lily together wrenched the Lakeland Lily round as best they could and she rocked crazily in the water as a result. But she didn’t stand a chance.

  The small steamer could go nowhere but plough through the shallows right on to land. She drove aground with a terrible grinding and tearing of her hull. Lakeland Lily was very firmly beached on Hazel Holme with half her screaming passengers falling over like skittles on deck.

  Dear God, Lily thought, would this battle for vengeance never end?

  Lakeland Lily stood in dry dock and business was looking grim. She must be brought back into service with all speed if Lily were not to lose the best part of the season.

  Nathan rang with his apologies and some tale of its all being an accident, caused by a new skipper. She put down the phone without even troubling to respond. Then she sent the family solicitor, Mr Groves, to see him. He stood before a grave-faced, tight-lipped Nathan and issued a formal warning.

  ‘Any more trouble of this nature and Mrs Clermont-Read will have no hesitation in taking the matter to court.’

  Nathan’s frozen glare said it all.

  Groves handed him a written warning, lest he be in any doubt that she was serious. ‘I would advise you, Mr Monroe, to stay well away from Mrs Clermont-Read and her steam launches in future. Is that quite clear? Do we understand the situation?’

  ‘We understand it fully. Tell her nothing on God’s earth would induce me to come anywhere near her. Not ever again.’

  It was exactly the reaction Lily had requested, yet somehow it offered no comfort whatsoever.

  From that day on it was as if open warfare had been declared between them. After four frantic weeks of effort Lakeland Lily was back in the water.

  Lily instructed Rose to shout all the louder on the pier, and put up more blackboards. She rented a small cafe nearby and served refreshments to those waiting to board. She organised bargain runabout tickets with the railway and charabanc companies who brought people from Bradford, Leeds and Halifax, or Liverpool, Preston and Blackburn. She hired a band to outplay the ones on board the Lucy Ann and The Golden Lady. She even offered brown ale on her picnics, something which Margot hated. And her efforts paid off. The number of customers doubled, packing her fleet of steamboats with gentlemen in moustaches and gaiters, ladies in cloche hats, and children in sailor suits.

  And they loved it. Some thought they could sail all the way to the sea in one of Lily’s boats and Rose rarely disabused them. So long as they handed over their shillings they could think what they liked.

  Finally, Lily put in an order for a large steamship. She had paid off her loans, had a fair amount saved and would beg or borrow the rest from the bank, bully Margot to sell more pictures, steal the money if she must, but she would not be beaten. Certainly not by foul play perpetrated by Nathan Monroe. She would work every hour God sent, and make her fortune in no time.

  Margot had taken to her bed, and this time it looked as if she meant to stay there. Barwick House had never seemed more depressing. The lamps were shrouded with squares of black linen, the green window blinds drawn, and Betty and George tiptoed about the place, afraid to disturb the all-enveloping silence.

  It was as if the last of Margot’s energy had seeped away. She would receive no visitors, talk to no one. She had stopped her constant criticising, never interrogated Lily on her routine, didn’t even utter a single complaint if her luncheon was late. She just lay in bed, staring out of the window or flicking through old magazines without reading any of them, growing older by the minute before Lily’s eyes.

  When Lily begged her mother-in-law to get up and take tea in the parlour she simply sighed and looked away. Her life, she said, had served no purpose. She had been a complete failure as a mother. Neither of her children had come up to scratch, so the fault must be entirely hers. ‘What did I do wrong?’ she asked pitifully.

  Lily took a more prosaic view. ‘It must be the way of the world for parents to be disappointed in their children. Certainly mine suffer exactly the same sentiments over me.’

  Margot looked at her askance. ‘How can you say so? You’ve gone up in the world. You have married into one of the finest families in Carreckwater.’

  Lily smiled. ‘There are some matters which cannot be measured in terms of money or class. Certainly my mother thinks so.’

  Margot frowned, clearly not believing this to be true, but Lily had no wish just then to go into the question of morals. To open Margot’s eyes to whatever pranks Bertie had got up to in the past, or risk hinting at what Selene might be up to now, would be too much for her to absorb. So she tucked in sheets, plumped pillows and said no more.

  ‘I wanted only the best for them, and neither cares a scrap about me,’ Margot wailed.

  ‘I’m still here,’ Lily gently reminded her.

  Tearful eyes looked up into hers. ‘Why?’

  Lily could only chuckle as she slid a fresh hot water bottle beneath the covers. ‘You always told me I was born daft. Happen you were right,’ she said, in a return to her old accent. ‘Now, Betty has made some lovely oxtail soup. I’ll go and fetch us a bowl each, and we can take lunch together up here. Then I can see you drink every drop.’

  ‘Harridan!’ Margot called after her, but Lily didn’t mind. Her mother-in-law was a sad creature now, not yet sixty but old before her time. Perhaps she had good cause. Lily felt almost sorry for her.

  Nor did Lily feel quite her old optimistic self. She too had changed over the years. Grown a little wiser, a touch calmer and more patient in her dealings with people - Nathan Monroe notwithstanding. And was perhaps more realistic in her expectations of life. Sadly, on the other hand, she had also lost a little faith and trust in the people she loved. Lily now believed that she could rely on no one but herself.

  Certainly living with the betrayal and hurt caused by the man she loved had proved to be more painful than even she could have imagined. The days and weeks following the near collision were the worst she had ever known. How could he have done this to her? How could he have been so cruel? Was this the proof of his love? Of his mindless, heartless obsession?

  Competition, however fierce, was surely healthy. But not this. Selene had warned her that Nathan was jealous of her success. She hadn’t believed it then, and still couldn’t now. There must be more to it than that.

&n
bsp; As for sending those mysterious little notes, trying to put the blame on Bertie, that left her utterly breathless. Could Nathan truly have staged an ‘accident’ on the lake. Why would he? There could be only one reason: to punish her for refusing to leave Bertie.

  Tears shone in her hazel eyes.

  Nathan Monroe was selfish, rotten to the core. Always had been, always would be. And she really was much better off without him.

  It was the end of another long and tiring day. Lily had worked late at the office. Now she wearily rang for the new steam ferry, glad at least of the opportunity to see Arnie. It pleased her to see her father happy and content at last.

  ‘You like this job, don’t you?’ she said as they sat together in the bow.

  ‘Aye, suits me grand. I know I was a bit cussed about it at first, but I’m right grateful to you, and to Ferryman Bob.’

  As he handed her out at the folly, he said, ‘I’m proud of you too, my fine daughter. Right proud.’ The two smiled into each other’s eyes and on impulse Lily kissed him, the old animosity at last dead between them.

  ‘And I of you.’

  As she approached Barwick House, Lily saw Bertie striding towards her down the path. Thomas was skipping beside him, chattering and asking questions as he so loved to do. Too big now to lift, and knowing how he hated to be kissed, she contented herself with ruffling her son’s hair and asking if he’d had a lovely day.

  ‘Dad’s finished his boat,’ he told her excitedly. ‘Can I go out in it?’

  Bertie had worked like a man possessed for weeks. Lily could hardly believe it. He’d even taken all his meals in Edward’s old boathouse, and was rarely home before midnight. In no time the jig-saw pieces had been assembled into a sleek craft. She didn’t dare utter a word of protest when he’d spent a small fortune on a splendid engine and all the other necessary bits and pieces he needed. She was too delighted to see a finished boat at last.

  ‘When are you going to try her out?’ she asked him now.

  ‘Soon. Then you’ll see how fast she goes. I intend to race her, don’t you know? Make her as famous as your boats, Lily.’

  She sighed, pleased he had done so well but not wishing to compete with her own husband. ‘Isn’t Daddy clever?’ she said, hugging Thomas.

  ‘Let me come too, Daddy. I want a go in her.’

  Lily laughed. ‘Later, darling, when you’re older.’

  ‘I’m older now.’

  ‘Course he is. Proper little man.’

  Lily glanced at the sky, which looked ominous. ‘Not this evening, in any case. There isn’t a breath of wind.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Lily, how many times must I tell you that you don’t need wind for a power boat?’

  ‘I meant only that the weather seems uncertain. The wind has dropped and it might rain.’

  ‘Mummy, please!’

  The last thing she needed after a tiring day was an argument so she simply smiled and put a finger to her lips. ‘We’ll see, shall we? Now it is suppertime. Don’t stay out too late, Bertie dear.’

  But he wasn’t listening, already striding away. Lily watched him go with sadness in her heart, the rain starting in earnest before he had even reached the folly. He was a jealous fool, but what harm could he come to? He could handle boats.

  The next day brought a clear, rain-washed sky with that clarity of light which could only be called translucent. Perfect weather, Bertie decided, for his first trial run.

  He called Selene, telling her to be there prompt at two, and to bring Marcus if she wished. He urged Margot to rise and watch him. She agreed to watch from the window of her bedroom.

  There was another minor tussle over whether or not Thomas should be allowed to be on board for the trial. In the end it was agreed that the first run at least, should be Bertie’s alone.

  ‘She’s a fine boat. You’ll see, Lily.’

  ‘I’m sure she is. You must be so proud of her.’

  Word must have quickly spread because by two o’clock several small craft had gathered on the lake to watch the trials. Lily and Thomas, with George and Betty, stood on board the Faith, which made a good vantage point. Some distance away, across the lake Lily could see Selene with Marcus on his own power boat, and Arnie aboard his steam ferry with a sizeable group of interested passengers.

  ‘What will you name her?’ Lily called to Bertie, but he only shook his head.

  ‘Tell you later.’

  She was eighteen feet long with narrow decks and clean vee-shaped lines. Very elegant and, he claimed, fast. Bertie took her out gently, heading for the centre of the lake. There he drove back and forth, gathering speed at a most impressive rate, creating a fine spray in her wake.

  ‘Isn’t she tremendous,’ Thomas cried.

  Lily could only agree. The boat seemed steady enough, handling well. So thrilled was Lily for Bertie’s triumph that she blew the steam whistle for him by way of a salute, which set off other whistles and klaxons, a whole cacophony of noise from the myriad small boats which made up the group of curious onlookers.

  When Bertie came alongside he shouted across to her. ‘How about that? Didn’t I tell you I’d make you proud of me?’

  Lily laughed. And didn’t I always say you could do it, if you put your mind to it?’

  ‘Will you let Thomas come now? Just for a little spin.’

  Did she trust her child to this new boat? Thomas was jumping up and down with excitement. ‘Another time perhaps,’ she said. ‘Come and have tea first. You must be worn out.’

  Tea was a jolly affair, washed down with champagne as Selene and Marcus Kirkby came to join them for the celebrations. ‘Fine performance, Bertie. You can be rightly pleased with yourself. Is she for sale?’

  Bertie’s face was bright with joy, eyes dancing, sandy curls springing wildly about his head. Almost his old self again, Lily thought with pleasure.

  He said, ‘No, dammit, she isn’t. Did you see the speed she revved up? Engine got a bit overheated at the end, and the propellers took a bit of strain. Maybe they should be bigger. I’ll look into that, but she held her course well, eh?’

  ‘I thought everything was for sale, at a price,’ Marcus said, turning to Lily. ‘How about your business, for instance?’

  Taken aback, she laughed. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘That I’d give you a fair price and clear this lake free of other - shall we call them? - encumbrances.’

  Lily stared, puzzled for a moment before understanding dawned. ‘I think I can deal with the competition myself, thank you.’

  ‘I believe nothing has quite gone right for you lately, Lily. I would’ve thought you’d be more than ready to give up.’ He regarded her with a smile that somehow made her uneasy.

  ‘Then you heard wrong. I love my boats, and can manage them very well, despite recent difficulties.’

  Selene said, ‘Oh, Lily, do stop being so selfish and stubborn. You know that Nathan will win in the end. Why don’t you sell to Marcus instead? He’ll deal with him so much better.’

  Bertie, still deep in his own thoughts, said, ‘I might consider an offer. Depends what it is. I could always sell you this little beauty, Marcus, and build myself another, better model, eh? What d’you say, old sport. Like to try her out?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind.’

  When Selene protested, she too was generously offered a ride.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said, rather sniffily. ‘It would quite ruin my hair. I shall stay here with Lily while you boys play. I’ll persuade her to change her mind and sell up.’

  Lily laughed, hazel eyes sparkling. ‘You won’t succeed.’

  ‘These were my father’s boats in the first place, remember. I think I deserve to have them back, don’t you?’

  Lily was astounded. ‘That’s not true. Only the Faith was worth anything in the beginning. The Lakeland Lily was originally the Kaspar, and cost more to recover and restore than her actual scuttled value. It took nearly two years before she was properly payi
ng her way. I’m only now making any real money, through my own efforts.’

  But Selene would have none of it. ‘You took advantage of Mama, forcing her to sell pictures, my inheritance.’

  ‘I beg your pardon but I’ve kept Margot in comfort, and paid off her debts. Repaid her loans ten-fold.’ Which is more than you have done, Lily could have added.

  ‘By rights, everything should be mine. I know my father felt sorry for you, but he wouldn’t have wanted you to inherit, Lily, a nobody from The Cobbles.’

  Selene still knew how to inflict a wound, and leave Lily too stunned to answer.

  ‘Of course, we all know how you do so love to steal my possessions, you naughty girl.’ The point of this remark did not escape Lily either.

  She would have liked to protest further, to say that it was she who had built the boat business up, not Edward; that she hadn’t run away when the going got tough. But Bertie was falling into sulk again and she had no wish to spoil his day. ‘We can discuss this another time. Enough business talk for today. Let Bertie enjoy his trials.’

  As he set off again, this time with Marcus Kirkby as crew member, Lily helped put away the tea things. Her irritation over the conversation that had just occurred made her clumsy and a cup slid from her fingers to smash upon the deck. Cursing beneath her breath, she went for a brush and dustpan but Betty took them from her, saying she’d do it herself while they still had some crockery left.

  Perhaps, Lily thought, she did owe Selene something. Perhaps it wasn’t enough to have paid off their debts and saved Margot from bankruptcy. Should she have paid Selene something for the boats? Oh, dear, why was everything so complicated where the Clermont-Read family was concerned?

  The boat had completed one lap by this time and it was only as Bertie swung it round for a second full run down the lake that Lily realised there were three figures on board. Bertie and Marcus Kirkby in the front, and a third small figure behind.