Wishing Water (44 page)

Derry was on his feet in an instant and Lissa saw the tell-tale flush creep up his neck. He hadn’t expected her to walk in, any more than she had expected to find him here.

‘Lissa. Hi. I’ve been staying with Jan. Doing some walking on the fells. Thought I’d call in for a chat and a cuppa.’
 

She wanted to say there was no need for him to explain. Jan was his sister after all. It was really none of her business if he felt he had the right to make himself at home at Broombank.

‘He’s a different person, is he not?’ Tam said, unaware of the undercurrents. ‘Not a Teddy Boy now. Grown up fine he has. A successful businessman, would you know?’
 

Lissa tried to force her stiff lips into a smile. ‘What is it you do, Derry?’ Politely enquiring, obeying the social niceties. Why stand here talking to him when she wanted to turn and run?

‘I work for a management agency. We represent young people who wish to enter the music business. There are a lot of sharks out there, waiting to bite.’
 

‘Lucky you came,’ Tam butted in. ‘Derry was wondering how to get back to Carreckwater. You could give him a lift, could you not?’
 

Panic swamped her. ‘I’m surprised he doesn’t have a flash American car if he’s so successful.’
 

Derry grinned. ‘I do. In the States. Nick brought me over, but his van is broken down. It’s OK, I can wait for him to fix it.’
 

‘Good,’ Lissa said with a cool smile, feeling relieved.

He set down his mug, rubbed his hands on his cord trousers in a familiar gesture that showed he was as uncomfortable about this meeting as she.

Perhaps Meg saw something too for she took Lissa’s arm in a comforting gesture. ‘I have those jerseys ready for you in the barn, if these men will excuse us.’ They walked away, Lissa struggling to concentrate on Meg’s bright chatter.

‘How’s trade?’

‘Excellent.’

‘The shop has a good position, very central. That’s essential, I suppose.’

Lissa cleared her throat. ‘I may have to find alternative premises.’
 

Meg frowned. ‘Haven’t you just spent all last winter doing up the old drapery?’

‘Miss Stevens has changed her mind about letting me have the lease.’

‘Why?’ She looked into Lissa’s face. ‘Don’t tell me. Philip has put pressure on her.’

Lissa gave a philosophical smile. ‘She has no wish to become involved in a matrimonial dispute.’

A slight pause. ‘Is that what you are involved in? A matrimonial dispute?’
 

‘No, of course not,’ Lissa lied, not meeting Meg’s shrewd gaze.

‘Is there something you’d like to talk about? Are you all right?’
 

‘Everything’s fine. I have two lovely children, why wouldn’t it be? Anyway, I’m sure I’ll find something when the season is over. Assuming I decide to continue, of course.’

Meg regarded her foster daughter with quiet grey eyes. ‘It all depends how badly you want something, whether or not it’s worth fighting for.’
 

‘Yes,’ Lissa agreed, meeting her gaze at last. ‘I suppose it does. You don’t know what it means to me, Meg, to have you on my side.’
 

‘Where else would I be? Whatever you decide to do, Lissa, I’m right behind you. Remember that. Whatever it is.’
 

And they both knew she wasn’t just talking about finding new premises.

A cornflower blue sky marred by streaks of grey. Dark shadows melding the mountains into greyness one moment, highlighting them into brilliant sunlight the next. The day appeared to match the confusion of her mood. Lissa simply couldn’t focus on the winding lane ahead. She drew the van to a halt and yanked on the handbrake.
 

‘Tam had no right to insist on my taking you. But you’re here now, so whatever it is you want to say, get it over with quickly. I have children waiting for me at home. And a husband.’
 

‘Why did you marry him, Lissa?’
 

She was filled instantly with a flush of hot temper and turned to him, violet eyes flashing with anger. ‘Why did you leave, without even a proper goodbye or an explanation? Why did you promise to come home, in that pathetic little scrap of a letter, and then not keep that promise? You made a fool out of me, Derry Colwith. Don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for that.’
 

‘I’m surprised it still matters so much,’ he said, his voice soft, like a caress, and she realised her mistake.

‘Don’t kid yourself. I’m very happy, thank you very much.’

‘Are you? You don’t look like the picture of a fulfilled happy woman. You look like someone who’s made a bad mistake and is spending the rest of her life paying for it. Rather like me, in fact.’
 

She glared at him as the fury bubbling inside her slowly subsided and the crackling tension between them changed imperceptibly to another sensation, far more compelling, and far more dangerous. Dear God, how she loved him. She sensed him move towards her even before he’d put thought into action.

‘Don’t,’ she said, holding up her hands in a defensive gesture. ‘Please, Derry. Don’t touch me. I can cope with anything but that.’

‘OK. Can I tell you then, what happened? Will you listen without jumping down my throat?’
 

She turned the key, making the engine spurt into life. ‘I don’t want to hear.’
 

‘Yes, you do.’ He reached over and turned the engine off again. Then he got out of the van and stood, hands in pockets, staring out over the panorama of dale and fell, lifting his face to a fitful sun. Lissa was forced to follow him.

‘What can I say? I was young. Obsessed with the hope of fame and fortune. Like a lot of other kids I’ve met since. I was sure I was the one with the special gift, the one who would take the music world by storm.’ He laughed, mature honesty in it, with no hint of bitterness.

‘And I came second, probably even last in your calculations?’

He gave a rueful smile. ‘Like I said, we all make mistakes. I’m no exception. A part of me was arrogant enough to believe I’d return in no time with money in my pocket, a record contract, and you’d be eating out of my hand.’
 

‘I was already,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t want your money, only you.’

He was silent, staring up into the sky as if by watching the movement of the clouds he could make time run backwards, give them a second chance.

‘I realised my mistake and came back, remember, hoping to make amends. But it was too late. You were already engaged to Philip Brandon.’
 

She would never forget that night. The awful sight of Derry’s face had haunted her for months afterwards. Years. Lissa recognised it now as the final acknowledgement of lost hope, hastily smothered in pride. ‘I think I did it out of a last, wilful cry of rebellion. And I thought I’d be safe with him, an older man who adored me. He would never reject me as you had done, as others before you had done.’

He nodded in understanding, and they stood quietly side by side, not looking at each other, not touching. The wind lifted the curls she’d left loose about her neck and slapped them against her face.

‘I could tell you that it wasn’t entirely my fault, that your husband had a hand in my decision to leave, but you’d only say I was making excuses.’
 

She half glanced at him then bit down on her lip, feeling a hard knot growing in her throat. ‘Not necessarily. Philip has a way of manipulating things to suit him.
 

‘If I’d come back sooner, would you have forgiven me?’ There was a plea in his voice that cut deep to the heart of her. She could almost feel the blood running from it. ‘Don’t - don’t ask. Who knows? It’s over, done with.’ She turned from him, back to the van but he caught her arm, held her by him.

‘It isn’t. ‘You know it isn’t.’ She could feel the heat of his fingers the length of her arm, his gaze warming her face. As their eyes met and held it was as if her soul was drawn from her body, leaving it weak and shaking with need.

‘It has to be,’ she managed, on half a breath. ‘I’m married now, a wife and mother.’
 

His eyes were soft, compelling and powerful, telling her things she didn’t want to know, reminding her of feelings she’d much rather not remember.

‘It never will be over. Not for me. I’ve learned that much about myself at least.’
 

She must have made a small sound for he told her not to cry, even so the tears were raining down her cheeks. ‘I never cry,’ she sobbed. ‘Never.’
 

‘I know,’ stroking the tears away with the gentle tips of his fingers. ‘Crying is dangerous. It makes you weak and vulnerable.’ Then his arms were around her, his mouth on hers, and he was kissing her as never before. Lissa was holding him, opening her mouth to receive his tongue, his love, as if he could give her life. He was holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. She didn’t want to breathe, not if it meant living without him. His hand was cupping her cheek, her throat, her breast.

Dear God,
what was she doing?
Dangerous emotions. Dangerous actions. She broke from him and ran to the van. Then she drove away and left him standing there, alone on the empty fells.

She could have blamed Renee for seeing him again. Acting as intermediary she’d handed Lissa a note, a knowing grin on her face.

‘I won’t see him,’ Lissa had told her.

‘Suit yourself.’ Renee shrugged. ‘No skin off my nose. He only wants a cup of coffee at The Cobweb, not a necking session behind the bike sheds.’
 

Oh, but she could no more prevent herself from seeing him again than she could stop the rain falling on the fells or the tarn freezing over in winter. Just one more time, she told herself. She owed him that. Settle the matter properly between them, without emotion this time. So despite all the promises to herself, despite the risk she ran were Philip to discover her deceit, she was going.

‘Why are you sad, Mummy? Are you cross with us?’
 

‘Of course not, my darlings. You are my world, my life, my little treasures.’ Lissa, cuddling both children on her lap, warm and fragrant after their bath, kissed them each in turn and explained how they must be very good for Nanny Sue this evening.

‘Where are you going, Mummy?’ Beth wanted to know, pillowing her head against her mother’s warm breast.

‘Why can’t we come?’ put in Sarah, outrage on her small heart-shaped face, and Lissa laughed, kissing them both again, brushing their soft curls with a pink baby brush. Beth with hair the colour of pale chestnut leaves and eyes grown more grey than blue as the baby years had passed. Sarah’s hair black as her own, the eyes as deep a blue except for flecks of pale grey which altered the light in them, almost to suit her mood. Unusual, bewitching. She smoothed their perfect limbs with a gentle hand, tucked frilled cotton nighties over dimpled knees.

‘I do love you both. Do you love Mummy?’
 

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ Soft warm kisses, tight hugs, joyful giggles and laughter. With her children Lissa felt completely relaxed and happy. She must do nothing to risk that happiness, or their future, no matter what the cost to her own life. How would they ever forgive her when they grew older if they realised she had put her needs before theirs? As her own mother, Kath had done. However much Lissa might long to leave Philip, she could never risk that. Never.

‘Now, my darlings, here is Nanny Sue. Will you put them to bed for me, please? I must go out to - to a meeting.’ Lissa felt sure the woman would guess she was lying.

‘As you wish, Madam,’ said Nanny in frosty tones. Though for all her unfriendliness with adults, Lissa could not fault the woman’s care of the twins. She adored them to a point of fierce possessiveness. An emotion Lissa was familiar with in this household.

‘Is Mr Brandon aware you are going out?’ she asked, meaning, ‘Has he given his permission?’
 

Lissa smiled, lifting Beth into Nanny’s arms. ‘He is out at a meeting himself. If he rings, I’m sure you will tell him. I promised my friends that I would go but I know the children will be quite safe with you.’
 

‘What time shall I say you will be back?’
 

Lissa stifled an irritated response with a sigh, and smiled sunnily. ‘You know, if you should ever lose your job here, apply for one as a prison warden. You’d be perfect. Bye, my darlings. Be good. I’ll come in to kiss you good night when I get home.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

They sat at a table in a corner of The Cobweb Coffee Bar and sipped their coffee without tasting it, without speaking, without even looking at each other. It was Lissa, in the end, who broke the silence.

‘I don’t know why I came,’ she said, in a pitifully small voice. ‘If Philip were to find out, I really don’t know how he’d react. What was it you wanted, I thought we’d said all there was to be said.’
 

His eyes held an appeal she dare not read and could not ignore. `I can’t begin to say all I feel,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if I went too far the other night. I lost control. It won’t happen again.’