Wishing Water (43 page)

She flushed dark red. ‘None. But I have explained - about his lovemaking. If you can call it that. He’s completely selfish, never waits for me and...’
 

The solicitor politely coughed. ‘Were we to use inadequacy as a lover as grounds for divorce the courtrooms would be full to overflowing.’ He gave an embarrassed little smirk. ‘Perhaps a little discussion between the two of you might help.’

‘But it’s very nearly rape.’
 

He looked surprised by her sudden aggression and then covered it with a professional mask of sympathy. ‘No such thing in marriage. Not in law.’ He stared at his notepad. ‘How long did you say you’ve been married, Mrs Brandon?’
 

Despair was starting to close in. ‘He totally controls my life. I have no freedom, not even allowed an opinion of my own. He keeps me like a bird in a cage, watches my every move, tells me what to wear, decides when I may be allowed out, which is never alone. He almost tells me what to think. Now he means to put an end to my new business venture.’
 

‘Curb your bolt for freedom as it were?’

‘I-I suppose so, yes.’
 

The expression on the solicitor’s face told her he was sympathetic but thought she exaggerated. His next words confirmed it. ‘Few men take such good care of their wives. Even fewer like the idea of their wives working. It reflects upon their own ability as a provider.’
 

Lissa felt close to tears. How could she make him understand? But the prospect of a lifetime’s penance for one mistake was more than she could bear. She tried again, her patience straining.
 

‘I know he has never actually struck me, but there is violence in him, I can sense it. I feel he is barely holding his anger under control. I was very young when I married. It’s proved to be a mistake and I would like out of it. Is that too much to ask?’
 

She lifted violet eyes, dulled by pain but still achingly beautiful, and for a moment the young solicitor very nearly, and against his better judgement, agreed to take the case. He had seen few women as lovely. He could quite easily understand any man’s obsession with her. Unfortunately this husband appeared to have been particularly crass about the matter.

‘I’m sorry to say that you have no grounds for divorce, Mrs Brandon. You could wait until the children are grown up but even then there is no guarantee a judge would grant you a divorce. You may still find yourself unable to break completely free.’
 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘And if I were to take a lover?’
 

His head snapped up and horror registered in every muscle of his face, every line of his erect frame. ‘You must
never
consider doing such a thing. Not only would you then be the guilty party and completely at your husband’s mercy, but most judges would deem you to be an unfit mother. You would lose your children, Mrs Brandon, without doubt.’

Chapter Twenty-Two

Carreckwater was a small town and it was difficult, if not impossible, to avoid Derry altogether. So when she caught a glimpse of him Lissa would turn and hurry in the opposite direction.
 

She’d agonised over the solicitor’s advice but had known all along what her decision must be. The children must come first. They were everything to her and no risks must be taken with their happiness, bad marriage or no.

Whatever she and Derry had once shared was over. Forget him, she sternly told herself. He would go back to America and she would stay with Philip, and do her best to make what she could of her life.

Lissa was in Fairfield Park, rolling on the grass with the twins who were climbing all over her, when suddenly there he was, standing before her, and she could do nothing but sit and stare at him, her mind empty of words, of every sensation but the glory of his nearness. She felt her body come alive, as if every nerve crackled with a new awareness, every part of her reaching out to the boy she’d once known and loved. But he wasn’t a boy any longer. He was a man. The Teddy Boy image had quite gone, so had the quiff and the brilliantine. The hair had grown fair now, and thicker, flopping casually over a wide brow. He was smart and assured, a new confidence emanating from him. And successful, if the cut and style of the pale grey suit were any guide.

‘I rather think you’ve been avoiding me.’

His smile wrenched her heart for it was exactly the same, lopsided and funny, making him look rather like that mischievous young boy again. His brown eyes were as warm and merry as ever, laughing at life.

Her own must have flashed some sort of warning for she saw his expression change, grow oddly serious as their gaze held and locked.

‘I really don’t see any reason for us to meet, do you?’ She felt oddly rumpled and grubby, brushing the grass from her skirt, all too aware of the twins’ avid interest.

He picked a stalk of grass from her hair and laughed, gently teasing. ‘No pony tail I see.’

The touch of his hand set her on fire. ‘No.’

He looked at the children. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’ She gathered them to her, as if for protection.

‘They take after you. Nice kids.’
 

‘Thanks.’

A silence grew and lengthened. Lissa got to her feet, gathered two sticky, grass-stained hands in her own. ‘We must be going. Time for tea.’
 

‘Of course.’
 

She started to walk away. Would he let her go like this, without saying any more?

‘Lissa?’ he called, and she instinctively paused, feeling her heart leap as she half turned towards him. She desperately quenched the joy soaring in her heart, determined to hide the effect he had on her.

Derry hesitated, as if not quite knowing what to say next, and she saw him draw in a quavering breath. ‘I can see you’re busy,’ he said, and his voice was not quite steady as his eyes devoured her. ‘But I’d like a moment of your time. There’s something I need to say.’
 

She stood on the sweet green grass, her children tugging at her hands and skirt, asking for one more play on the swings, and she could find no words to answer him. How could they talk? Where? For what purpose?

She shook her head. ‘There’s nothing to say.’ Then dipping her chin as she saw the pain come into his eyes, Lissa turned, wanting only to hurry from him.

‘Why are you crying, Mummy?’ Sarah asked.

‘I’m not. I think I have some dust in my eye.’
 

‘The Cobweb,’ he called, as she broke into a run, trying to make a game of it as she hurried the twins along. ‘Lunchtime on Friday.’
 

She couldn’t go, of course. Nor could she deny that she wanted to, very much. How could she not? She loved him still after all these years, longed for him till her body ached with the pain of it.

When Friday came she pleaded a migraine and stayed in her room all day. How could she trust her feet not to take her to the small cafe if she let them out of the door?
 

Lissa knew that she must stand by her decision. She had considered every option, taken advice, and come to realise that there was to be no escape. Her duty was to stay with her husband until her children no longer needed her. Take what independence she could and be content. She must make the best of things. Hadn’t everyone told her so?

But her rebellion was growing. If she didn’t hold fast to her courage now, she would have no life left. ‘Renee tells me trade is thriving. We’re doing well. I mean to continue, Philip, for all you may force me to seek alternative premises. I mean to be a success.’
 

They were walking to Elterwater, through the valley where Lissa had first been kissed by Derry. Beyond, in the distance, was the Old Dungeon Ghyll where they’d enjoyed tea, pretending to be sophisticated and grown up. Lissa wasn’t feeling too grown up today, more like a reckless teenager. It was exhilarating. And very possibly dangerous. ‘I’m beginning to feel respect for myself again. It’s a good feeling.’

He used his usual tactic of laughing at her, treating her like a foolish infant. ‘Even if you had the skill to run a business, which you don’t since you make a mess of everything you do, you’d soon run out of money. Don’t think you can ask me for a loan.’

To his fury, she only smiled. ‘Jeffrey Ellis, my grandfather, invested a small sum for me as a gift when I was a child. He did love me, you see. Unreservedly, though he was kept from me in his later years. So I won’t need your help, Philip.’

His face went white with cold fury. ‘An inheritance! You had an inheritance from your grandfather and never told me? I do not care for secrets, Lissa. I’ll have no more, do you understand? Or I may be obliged to take stronger measures, which you would care for even less.’

Lissa gazed imploringly at him, begging him to understand. ‘I need something of my own. I can’t become a mindless dolly bird, devoting myself to you and the children. It would only make me grow bitter and resentful.’
 

‘It’s enough for most women.’
 

‘Is it? I’m not so sure. Has anyone ever asked them if they are happy? It’ll be all right, Philip. You’ll see. Neither you nor the children will suffer. I can fit everything in. You could save money by getting rid of Nanny Sue if you wish. I’ll take the children to the shop with me. They’ll be old enough for school soon in any case.’
 

‘I will not have my children brought up in the back of a shop.’

Lissa sighed. ‘Very well. Then don’t complain about being short of money.’
 

‘And what of Derek Colwith?’

Lissa felt the energy drain from her body and put out a hand to steady herself as they reached a stile over a dry stone wall, willing herself to be strong. ‘He came with his sister Jan. I didn’t even know he was back. What of it? I’m a married woman now.’
 

He slid his hands over her neck and shoulders, curling over her breasts and hips, down to the flatness of her stomach. Lissa willed herself not to move or reveal the revulsion she felt at his touch.

‘You belong to me. Just remember that.’

How could she ever forget.

She seemed to see Derry everywhere. If she turned a corner he bumped into her. If she took the children down to the shore he would be sitting on the benches. If she took them to the swings in the park he would be leaning against the bandstand, watching her. She saw him striding down St Margaret Steps, on the path to the woods, seemingly at every turn. She even found him in the shop talking to Renee on one occasion but obstinately refused to acknowledge his presence, walking past him to her office with her face set and her chin held high.

‘Sorry about that,’ Renee said afterwards. ‘He just popped in for old times’ sake. He won’t be staying long, he says.’
 

Won’t be staying long.
Lissa wished he’d never come in the first place. Oh dear God, when Derry left, that would be the end. Lissa’s instincts told her she would never see him again, never know the answers to the questions that haunted her. Yet how dare she allow herself to ask them? She alone knew how much she needed him. All she could do was bury that need in work.
 

Undeterred, she battled on. Lissa felt a real person again with a mind of her own, able to make decisions and answer queries, ring up suppliers and issue complaints or instructions with equal confidence. It really felt quite wonderful.

But each night she must return home to Philip’s criticisms, an ever growing list of rules and requirements, his glowering disapproval. And his bed. Faced with this reality her strength would sometimes falter. Could she survive this task she had set herself? Could she remain with him as his wife? Even as she vowed to do so, her heart desperately sought a way to be free and yet keep her children.

She was twenty-four years old and had nothing to look forward to for the rest of her life but a bleak future with a man she could not love. Lissa realised now how much he had chipped away at her self-confidence. Her victory would lie in reclaiming a sense of purpose. Otherwise Philip would have won completely.

Lissa daringly bought herself a small Morris van so she could drive herself to wholesalers for more stock when needed. The business was beginning to do well and it gave her a wonderful new sense of freedom. It made Lissa feel capable of building a life for herself after all. She even recklessly hired a woman to come in and clean for her, although that didn’t work out as Philip sacked her on the spot.

Today she was visiting Broomdale. Jan had knitted some children’s jerseys in rainbow colours, and was keen to see if they were a good enough standard to sell in the shop. But first, she called in at Broombank, and there he was.
 

He was sitting in the wide hearth, his feet in thick woollen walking socks steaming gently before the basket grate, laughing at something Tam had said. Lissa saw him the moment she walked in and the shock of it hit her flat in the chest, quite robbing her of breath. He seemed a reincarnation of that other Derry, the one who had fascinated her most, the one who had kissed her on their walk to the Langdales.

‘Hello.’ She couldn’t say his name. It was astonishing really, how normal she sounded.