Wishing Water (48 page)

It was five past midnight when she heard the hammering on the door. Lissa struggled from her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and went to the landing window.

Philip stood below, at the door. She pushed open the tiny window and called down, as quietly as she could so as not to wake the twins.

‘What are you doing here at this time?’
 

‘I need to talk to you. Open the door, Lissa.’
 

‘No, Philip. I can’t talk now. I won’t talk now. Perhaps in the morning. Or when I feel ready.’ She started to close the window when he thumped his fist against the door. The noise echoed in the empty street.

‘Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you. You are my wife, and will obey me. Come home at once.’
 

‘It’s no good shouting, Philip, I’m not coming home.’

‘I never shout.’
 

‘No, you don’t, do you? But you give plenty of orders. Unfortunately I’m not prepared to obey them any more.’
 

He raised two clenched fists, looking for a moment like a man ready to beat in the door if he had to. ‘Where are my children? I insist on seeing my children.’
 

She told him, with surprising calm, that they were asleep. ‘I need my sleep too. We’ll talk tomorrow, Philip. There are a number of things we ought to discuss, including a divorce.’ Whereupon she closed the window firmly on his silent rage.

He did not come in the morning, nor the next day, nor the day after that, and Lissa began to worry what he was up to. Her feeling of victory evaporated, almost to the extent of wishing the reckless words unsaid. She knew it would not be easy to start again from scratch, to face the gossip and snide remarks. A strange malaise came over her. She felt too ashamed even to go out. Her marriage had failed and she could not bring herself to walk down the street. She felt sure that everyone would see her shame and remark upon it. They would say that it was her fault, that she was never able to keep anyone’s love, that there must be something wrong with her.

Derry called but she sent him away. ‘It isn’t safe. Don’t come here again. My case is weak enough. If Philip were to find you I can’t answer for the consequences. I must think of the children.’
 

Renee proved to be a tower of strength. Together they scrubbed and cleaned, tidied and decorated, turning two rooms and a small washroom into a presentable home. The twins joined in with exuberance, not understanding anything that was going on. Renee lent Lissa a few odd pieces of furniture and carpet she’d borrowed from friends and neighbours. Then she and Jimmy carried up a table and three chairs from the stock room.

‘They’re not exactly polished mahogany but they’ll do for now.’
 

‘Everything’s wonderful, Renee. I’m so grateful.’
 

‘Are we going to live here?’ Sarah demanded, her small heart-shaped face a mask of affronted dignity, as if she should have been consulted on the subject. ‘Where will Nanny Sue sleep?’
 

‘And Daddy?’ put in Beth.

‘I’ll explain later,’ Lissa said, wondering how these matters could ever be satisfactorily explained to a four year old. She pushed back an untidy lock of hair, thinking how dreadful she must look since she’d hardly had time to attend to herself recently. She spread out her hands and frowned at the nails, broken and chipped, the pink varnish peeling. Philip would not approve, and then her heart flooded with relief. It didn’t matter what Philip thought. He didn’t control her any more. She found a pair of scissors and began to cut them.

‘What are you doing?’ Sarah, ever curious, wanted to know.

‘Cutting my nails, darling. They get in the way when I’m working. And I must work very hard in future.’ She would tell them soon, she thought, when she’d finalised her plans.

And all this on top of what was proving to be a busier season than they’d ever hoped for. At least Lissa no longer had to hide herself away in the office. She could take a full and active part in the day to day running of the shop.

It was well into August before she found time to make an appointment to see her solicitor and tell him the news. He seemed less than pleased and kept plucking at his lower lip, making worried little noises. ‘Such a pity that you walked out on him, Mrs Brandon. Dear, dear. So difficult.’
 

‘I’ve asked Philip for a divorce and he has gone away to consider the matter.’

He had yet to acknowledge her request but Lissa was determined to think positive. He’d stormed off in the middle of that first night, but he would be forced to consider it, wouldn’t he, in the end?

‘Hmm,’ said the young solicitor and proceeded to repeat his warning that the divorce law, as it stood at present, was not favourable to her case. ‘There must be no sign of complicity between you. It was misguided to leave. Much better had it been the other way around.’
 

She told him what Philip had done on their last night together. The solicitor seemed remarkably unimpressed.

‘As I explained before, Mrs Brandon, deficiencies in the bedchamber are hardly grounds. Many people indulge in such games. Consenting adults and all that.’
 

‘But that’s the whole point. It wasn’t a game, and I didn’t consent.’

‘Did he hit you?’
 

‘No.’

‘Hm, so no bruises then.’ He seemed disappointed. ‘You are his wife, you see. Most judges would consider that complicity enough. They simply would refuse to grant a divorce on those grounds.’
 

‘The marriage is over.’ Lissa felt as if she were battering her head against a brick wall yet knew the fault was not with the solicitor, who was only doing his job. ‘He rules my life, my thinking, he suffocates me and I can’t stand it any more.’
 

The solicitor offered his sympathies but declared himself unable to change the law. ‘It is government policy not to make divorce too easy or the courts would be full of women wanting their freedom, claiming their rights.’ He laughed with slight embarrassment and Lissa could only grit her teeth with vexation.

‘Then what can I do?’
 

‘Leave it with me for a while. I’ll give the matter some thought, perhaps take counsel’s opinion. We’ll do what we can.’ He spread his hands then quietly clasped them, concluding the matter. ‘I’ll write to your husband, sound out his feelings.’
 

She offered her thanks and got up to go. ‘He will, of course, be entitled to access.’

‘Access?’
 

‘To the children. Perhaps every Saturday or Sunday. That is the usual method.’
 

Dear God, of course, access. ‘I couldn’t possibly allow him take them away.’ How did she know that he would bring them back?

The solicitor looked surprised. ‘I’m afraid you must. It is his right.’
 

Lissa was almost choking with fear. Couldn’t the man see what Philip was like? He would take the twins simply to spite her, to use them as a pawn to control her, as he so liked to do. ‘What about my rights as a mother? Can’t it wait until this divorce question is settled?’
 

He took her elbow and led her to the door. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Brandon. He’s a man of honour. You surely don’t imagine he would hurt them, do you?’
 

‘No, of course not, but use them as a weapon against me.’
 

A smile and a pat on her hand. ‘I very much doubt it. I’ll be in touch. Good day.’
 

The bus took for ever on the journey back to Carreckwater. It crawled through every village, stopping frequently, the bus conductor chatting with everyone who got on and off as if there were all the time in the world. But there wasn’t. She’d foolishly left her children behind, and though Lissa trusted Renee implicitly, how would she cope if Philip took it into his head to come for them? Lissa decided never to let them out of her sight again.

‘They’re in the stock room trying on hats,’ Renee told her, concerned by Lissa’s high state of anxiety. ‘They’ll come to no harm with Aunty Renee. I’d soon see that one off, should he turn up again.’
 

‘I’m so sorry for doubting you.’
 

‘There now, I’m almost forgetting. Jan rang, seemed in a bit of a lather. Will you ring the moment you get in? she says.’
 

Lissa pulled off her coat and smiled at Renee, shamefaced. ‘Any tea going?’
 

‘That’s more like it. Look after the shop, Julie, and call me if you’ve any problems. And try not to get in a muddle with that new till.’
 

‘Yes, Mrs Colwith,’ said the young girl, trying to look important. Lissa dialled the number for Ashlea, wondering if perhaps there was some problem with Meg or Tam. Surely not, they’d seemed in the peak of health last time she’d visited.

‘Hello?’ Jan’s voice, frail and anxious, came on the phone and Lissa’s fears increased.

‘We’ve had another letter. He’s foreclosed on us, Lissa. He’s evicting us, turning us out. Sally Ann is nearly having a heart attack here, and Nick has stormed off threatening blue murder.’
 

‘Evicted? What are you talking about?’
 

‘I’m talking about your husband turning us out on the streets. Well, on to the open fell.’
 

Lissa could hardly believe what she was hearing and managed, at last, to say as much.

‘Why? That’s what we want to know.’ Jan’s voice was growing hysterical. ‘You promised to give us time and we’ve made some extra payments recently. We were catching up nicely, only he says we’re further behind than we think and he won’t give us any more time. Why, Lissa? What have we ever done to you?’
 

Lissa’s heart was beating twenty to the dozen and she felt suddenly sick. It was perfectly plain how Philip’s mind was working. ‘You haven’t done anything, Jan. I’m the one who has upset him and he’s taking his revenge out on you. Only he won’t succeed. I won’t let him. I’ll fight him over this, I promise.’
 

‘You’d better. God knows where we’ll go, what we’ll do, if we lose the farm. Things were just starting to improve then…’ Tears drowned her next words and it took some time for Lissa to calm her down before she could ring off.

Lissa rang her new solicitor right away and told him to get the eviction order quashed and to take all her financial affairs away from her husband. She wondered why she hadn’t thought to do that in the first place.

‘Surely he can do nothing without my signature?’ The solicitor agreed, and saw no reason why the matter couldn’t be satisfactorily settled.

Lissa immediately rang Jan and told her the good news but when she’d rung off this time, wished with all her heart that her own affairs could be so easily settled.

Philip had very efficiently proved that he still held power over her. He’d demonstrated that he could, and would, carry out his threats. First Ashlea, next Broombank? Would he also successfully persuade Manchester Water Board to choose Broomdale as a site for their reservoir. Ruin two good farms out of revenge, and line his own pocket in the process?

Almost worse than all of that was his most dire threat of all. He would never let her go. Never.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Autumn had passed and winter was approaching. There was a sharpness in the air that nipped at small fingers and toes but the twins were not short of warm woollens to keep them warm. Jan had made Sarah a red knitted coat and hat with a tasselled scarf that wound round and round her neck, and Beth a blue set, exactly the same. The twins wore them every day with pride, and to show off to their friends at the infant school they attended. Lissa was selling such items well in the shop too, while helping Jan earn a bit extra money.

The twins were learning to read and do sums, which made them feel very grown up. But it was still difficult sometimes to understand about adult things, like why a mummy and daddy lived in two different places.

Sarah had asked once or twice but got no answer that quite made sense. She missed Nanny Sue and the clean starchy smell of her apron but Beth missed Daddy most of all. Beth was Daddy’s pet. Sometimes, on a Sunday, he would come and take them for a walk or to play in the park. But only for a short while. Then he would leave them with Nanny Sue and go back to his office to work. He was a very busy and important man.

The first time had been the worst. Mummy’s lip had trembled like when Beth fell down and didn’t want to show how it hurt. Sarah knew she hadn’t wanted to let them go but Daddy had insisted. So Sarah hadn’t enjoyed herself that day, thinking that Mummy might be at home, crying. She’d refused to speak afterwards, just to show she could please herself who she wished to be friends with.

But it was better now. Mummy said she knew that the twins were safe with Daddy, and would always come back, which had puzzled Sarah for a long time. How could they not be safe with Daddy?

‘It will soon be all over,’ he promised them. ‘Then we can be together always.’

But it wasn’t over. New beds had been bought for them, their bedroom walls decorated with Magic Roundabout pictures and there was no talk of going back to their house on the Parade.