Wishing Water (16 page)

‘She’ll be running the Marina Hotel before she’s done,’ Derry was saying. The expression in his eyes was filled with laughter and admiration and Lissa almost hated him for being happy. But when they turned to her, instinctively sensing her gaze upon him, the eyes narrowed and noticeably cooled. ‘She could hold dances for the Yacht Club set. I’m sure Lissa would love to attend. She likes men in penguin suits.’
 

‘They certainly wouldn’t let you in wearing that jacket.’ she tartly responded. ‘Not to mention the purple shirt. Where did you find it? At a fancy dress party?’
 

She lifted her chin with haughty disdain, turning her attention to the dessert as it was placed before her, then found the lump in her throat would not allow her to eat it. She really shouldn’t waste time on him. But Lissa knew, even as she chastised herself, that it wouldn’t have made any difference. Despite all her efforts to keep him at a distance she was falling for Derek Colwith and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

There was a balmy warmth to the evening air as Derry walked the two girls home later that evening. The black mountains huddled about the shoreline seemed to protect them in a secret world all of their own. Soon summer would be over, the visitors would leave and the quiet riches of autumn would be theirs to enjoy, unfettered by overwork.

Contentment warmed Lissa. What did it matter if Jan had a good looking, infuriating brother? On the whole, taking everything into account, she was happy here in Carreckwater, for all she still missed Broomdale, and Meg. ‘What more could we ask for but a job that puts money in our pockets and friends to enjoy life with?’ She really mustn’t let Derry guess how she felt. She would fight her emotions every inch of the way. If he still had a thing going for Renee, that was his problem. And Jimmy’s. He was the one she should feel sorry for.

‘I could think of one or two other things I might ask for.’
 

‘I can guess,’ teased his sister. ‘A Vespa scooter maybe, or a recording contract with Decca?’

He cast a glance at Lissa across Jan’s head as if trying to judge her reaction. ‘We’re buying a bigger van next week, then we can travel further, to play at other places. Maybe go as far as Manchester.’
 

Lissa stared at the ground, not wanting to show that it mattered whether Derry stayed in Carreckwater or not. But the rapid beat of her heart told its own tale.

‘What about your job?’ Jan asked. ‘You can’t take too much time off from that.’
 

‘He’s too grand to be a clerk,’ Lissa said, hating the way her voice sounded peevish. But Derry agreed. ‘I’d give it up tomorrow for one chance at the big time.’
 

‘Jan laughed. ‘Fat chance.’
 

The boathouse was bathed in a pool of pale moonlight as Jan turned her key in the lock, still chuckling over her brother’s foolish dreams.

The soft lapping of water slipping over stones echoed magically in Lissa’s ears. Pewter grey, its polished surface reflected a half moon and the need to be alone with Derry was suddenly so compelling that the blood hummed in her veins. She wished Jan would go to bed so she could walk with him along the shore, hand in hand, gazing at that moon, talking softly together, perhaps feeling his lips on hers. Lissa shook the dream away, knowing it to be false and dangerous, and then as if she’d spoken out loud, Jan declared she was tired and would go at once to her bed.

‘If you two don’t mind? Goodnight.’ She flashed them a cheery wave then went up the spiral staircase to her tiny bedroom in the eaves.

Now the very opposite emotions ruled. Cold fear gripped Lissa’s heart. She was alone for the first time with Derry. He stood in the tiny living room smiling at her, hands in pockets, and to her complete shock and dismay she felt her limbs start to tremble. Foolish as it might seem the sensation persisted, filling her with a sudden panic. How ridiculous.
 

‘I’m tired too,’ she blurted out, more harshly than she intended. He considered her for a long moment in silence, and Lissa saw his shoulders tense.

‘I’d best be on my way then,’ he said at last, not making a move.

‘Yes,’ Lissa agreed through stiff lips, and after a moment found the strength to walk to the door.

Derry took his hands out of his pockets, wiped the palms on his trousers and slowly followed her. She held open the door, stiff-backed, as she waited for him to leave. Then the panic dissolved into a wave of shyness as he brushed past her and Lissa lowered her chin, unable to meet his shrewd gaze. She was aware that he’d paused in the doorway, that he was looking down at her, waiting for her to say something. But she dare not move, dare not return his gaze. Couldn’t think what to say.

‘Good night then.’

‘Good night.’ Lissa sounded falsely bright, moved as if to close the door. Derry stopped it with his foot, then catching her chin between finger and thumb, tilted her face up to his.

‘I don’t understand you.’ There was a grating quality to his voice that she’d never heard before.

‘What do you mean?’
 

‘Think about it. Sometimes you give me the real come-on. Slanting those delicious smiles when there are other people around and I can’t do a damn thing about it. The next minute you’re as cold as ice and don’t want to know. You’ve avoided me for months. What is it with you? I hadn’t thought you a tease but it’s looking that way.’
 

‘I - I really…’
 

‘I’m only human, Lissa. Its not fair to lead a bloke on, then freeze him out.’
 

She was appalled. ‘I never led you on.’
 

‘You let me kiss you on that walk. You said you’d come again but never did. You danced for me and saved the group from certain death. Then you went off with Philip Brandon. Now you’ve hardly a good word to say to me.’
 

Lissa remained silent, hanging her head with shame. She’d never considered the situation from Derry’s point of view and it was unsettling. She’d never thought that he could be hurt by her blow hot, blow cold attitude.

He was accusing her of being a tease, which must be true. ‘
You’ll end up wicked like your mother
,’
her grandmother had told her.

Lissa had no wish to be wicked. She didn’t mean to be a tease. Oh, what was wrong with her? Why did she behave in this way, so cold and heartless? Everything that had ever happened to her was all her fault. Her mother abandoning her, Meg losing her baby, now even Derry hated her. Lissa felt so certain nobody really liked her she wanted to lay her head on his shoulder and burst into tears.

‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘I didn’t mean to… I was just protecting myself.’
 

‘From me?’ His voice had softened and the anger in his face eased a little. ‘Do I look such a villain? OK, so I wear fashionable clothes. That doesn’t mean I carry a flick-knife and knuckle-dusters. Bit of a swank but Honest Jack, that
^’
s me.’
 

She met his frank, open gaze and was troubled.

‘Yet you love to encourage all those females to hang about you. I mean it when I say I’ve no wish to be numbered among your fan club, Derry Colwith. A notch on your gun.’
 

‘Is that what you think you’d be?’ His hands grasped her shoulders, the weight of them burning through her thin dress, and he gave her a little shake. ‘You really believe those girls matter to me?’
 

‘I don’t know what to believe.’ The warmth of his hands were having a strange affect upon her, making her feel wanton. Like her mother.

‘Miss Henshaw told me you’d been up to the office once or twice. Were you looking for me, or developing a schoolgirl crush for my boss?’
 

Lissa tossed back her hair on a spurt of temper. ‘Don’t you dare call me a schoolgirl. Why on earth would I look for you? That was family business.’
 

He glowered at her, disbelief in his brown eyes. ‘Was it family business when she saw you walking by the lake, or sailing in his boat?’
 

Lissa felt herself grow pale. Office gossip. Drat Derry Colwith, and his nosy secretary.

‘I really don’t see that it’s any concern of yours,’ she said, in her haughtiest tone.

He was so close she could smell the aftershave he wore, fuelling her desire for him to stop talking and kiss her.

‘No wonder you’re so cool towards me. My wallet not big enough?’
 

‘Perhaps I’m just careful and don’t trust any man.’

‘Known a lot, have you?’
 

Without stopping to think, Lissa lifted her hand to slap him across the face but he caught it and held it fast with his own, a white line of anger showing above his full top lip. Lips she still longed to kiss, even now.

‘Don’t class me with the likes of Philip Brandon.’ His voice was no more than a low hiss. ‘Not ever. There’s more to him than he lets on.’
 

‘You’re jealous,’ she taunted, and laughed, delighted to have the upper hand again.

His mouth came down upon hers, hard and demanding, bruising in its intensity. A great giddiness swept over her, desire so overwhelming she couldn’t help but give in to it. She melted against him, holding fast to his broad shoulders in an effort to steady herself. Then just as abruptly he stepped away from her, leaving her bereft. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not interested in competing with the likes of Philip Brandon, except in a yachting race. He’s welcome to you.’ Then turning abruptly from her, Derry slammed the door so hard it rocked on its hinges.
 

Lissa leaned her head against the door panel and cried. What had she done now?

Chapter Eight

A rumble of thunder echoed over the lake and Philip Brandon shuddered. There were times when he would like to escape this small community, were his fortunes not so firmly tied to it. Crowds irritated him, the happy bustle of the visitors only intensified his intrinsic loneliness. Particularly today when a summer storm seemed to be brewing and the air grew heavy. Huge purple and grey clouds gathered above the lake which lay like an amethyst in the fading afternoon light. Neither poet nor artist, yet he was aware of its beauty from his vantage point in the bay window of one of the more flamboyant Victorian villas on the Parade.

He allowed the voice of Elvira Fraser, his esteemed client, to flow over rather than into his consciousness. She would run out of steam soon, or her maid would turn up with the long promised tea, then he might bring her to the point.

Philip adjusted his gaze to the fine mouldings and carved cornices, giving every appearance of attending whilst thinking how much he appreciated a house of style. This one would suit him nicely, though it had about it the stale smell of a house occupied by the old.

He’d made good progress over the last year and his bank accounts were looking modestly healthy, but his patience was wearing thin.

‘So you see,
dear
Mr Brandon, I do depend upon you absolutely. My father made his fortune in the cotton mills but times are not what they were.’ Elvira emitted a heavy sigh. ‘Too many imports, don’t you know? Yet my family would rob me of my last farthing given half a chance, I am quite sure of it.’
 

Philip smiled, not unsympathetically. He was so accustomed to hearing the woes of distressed gentlefolk whose ample funds had first brought them to the Lake District and were not now quite so abundant, that his concern was limited. Poverty was relative.

Reaching across the small table set between the two chairs he patted the old lady’s hand. The flesh was soft and papery and made him cringe. ‘You may rest assured that I have your best interests at heart, Mrs Fraser.’
 

‘Dear boy,’ she said, dabbing at a tear with a lavender-scented handkerchief. ‘It is so rare these days. Everyone has become so greedy since the war. Do you not think so?’
 

The door opened and a tiny maid staggered in carrying a loaded tray. Silver teapot, silver milk jug and sugar basin, and of course a tea strainer. Cups and saucers of the very finest porcelain, he noticed. Even one of those old fashioned cake stands dangling from her arm to set by her mistress’s right hand. Philip considered the peaked ridge of cucumber sandwiches and wondered how quickly he could conclude the small ceremony and be out of here in the fresh air, bank books in hand.

It took less time than even he had anticipated. Mrs Elvira Fraser, having been vilified once too often by an indiscreet son-in-law, was only too pleased to hand over her financial affairs to
dear
Mr Brandon without any fuss at all. It took no more than two triangles of cucumber sandwich and one slice of seed cake and the deal was done.

‘I shall be only too happy to invest your funds for you, Elvira.’ This concession had been granted with the second sandwich. ‘A sum of interest will be paid each month into your bank account, more than sufficient for your needs. The balance will grow and add to your securities.’
 

‘Oh, what a relief.’
 

He leaned forward and rested his hand on a stout, tweed-clad knee, allowing it to linger until a slight stain of colour touched the sagging cheeks. He could feel the elastic garter just above her knee that held up the thick Lyle stockings.