Wishing Water (49 page)

Sarah didn’t really mind. She quite liked living above the shop and Renee was fun. She let them play with the till sometimes and help wrap things in tissue paper for the customers.

But they both missed their big garden at home, their sand pit and swing. It seemed mean of Mummy not to let them go there more often. But she was happier these days, always laughing and singing as she worked in the shop, playing games with them. Much more fun. She would let them sit up sometimes and watch Mr Pastry on television, or eat dinner with a candle on the table as if it were a real dinner party and they were grown ups.

At other times she was too tired to be bothered and then Sarah worried. Why did she work so hard? Why was she always on the telephone or buzzing about in the van just when they needed her? It wasn’t fair that both Mummy and Daddy should work so hard. But whenever Sarah complained, Mummy would only smile and tell her that she had to earn a living, didn’t she, to buy them all the bread and jam and cake they liked to eat.

Perhaps it was something they had done? Did they cost a lot of money to keep? And what would happen if they grew and got too expensive to keep? Sarah worried. Perhaps if they gave up cakes for tea or saved up their pocket money to pay for the Magic Roundabout pictures? Perhaps then Mummy could afford to keep them. Or they could ask Daddy for more help.

‘Is it my fault Daddy doesn’t want us to live with him any more?’ she ventured to ask one night. Mummy had just finished telling them the tale of the Three Little Pigs and was tucking Beth up and tickling her, so was in a jolly mood.
 

She looked surprised and troubled by the question. ‘Darling, no, of course not. He does still want us. He does love you. It’s simply that we can’t be happy together. Sometimes that happens with a Mummy and a Daddy. It has nothing to do with you two. It isn’t your fault, my darlings.’ And she kissed them both again which made Sarah feel better.

‘You love Derry, don’t you?’ Beth said calmly, and Lissa started. Could the child be quite so astute or was she only repeating what she had heard? Her next words confirmed her worst suspicions. ‘Daddy says Derry Colwith has spoiled our lives and will be the death of us all.’

‘Oh, Beth, what a dreadful thing for Daddy to say!’ Lissa burst out, aghast. ‘That simply isn’t true. I’ve known Derry for a long time, since I was a young girl in fact. He’s an old friend, that’s all.’ Two pairs of questioning eyes, one grey, one blue, regarded her with uncanny shrewdness.

‘Are you going to marry him instead of Daddy?’ Sarah asked, frowning and feeling that odd, uncertain feeling somewhere in her tummy.

‘No, of course not,’ Lissa hastily assured them and felt suddenly intensely cold, and rather sick. What had Philip been doing? Was he deliberately trying to poison the twins’ minds against Derry? ‘Anyway,’ she laughed, ‘would it be so very terrible? Derry is nice and good fun. You’d like him.’
 

‘We like Daddy,’ Beth said, pursing her small mouth.

‘Of course you do, darling. And I love you both, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’
 

Twin smiles, heads nodding, eyes wide and dark from tiredness. ‘Then leave these matters to Mummy and Daddy to worry over. Go to sleep both of you, it’s very late.’
 

Despite her natural worries about the twins, and the inevitable confusion they suffered, Lissa was certain they would settle eventually. ‘It’s working fine,’ she told Renee. ‘Philip’s accepted the separation better than I could ever have hoped for.’
 

Even if there never is a divorce, she thought, I’m happier here, in my private world above the shop, than in the awful pretence of marriage with him. I have my lovely girls, and the excitement of running my own business. What more could I want?

Now that she was free of Philip’s critical restrictions, Lissa felt as if she had emerged from a long dark tunnel and found life shining and new at the end of it.

The one flaw, which yawned wide and dark and empty, was her longing for Derry, which never for a moment eased. He was still staying with Jimmy and Renee, seemingly reluctant to leave. Lissa took care never to mention him to Renee, nor did he ever call at the flat or ring her.
 

But it would have been easier to deny herself breath than not to see him. They continued to meet, infrequently, and in secret, on the quiet fells of Broomdale. Never by the lake in case Philip should see them. There they could walk together without fear of being disturbed. It was the one place Lissa felt safe. On those days, as today, she told no one of her visit, not even Meg. And she chose a time when the twins were in school.

‘We really shouldn’t be doing this,’ she told him now, slipping her arms about his neck and laying her cheek against his chest so she could breathe in the crisp, clean scent of him. ‘If Philip were to find out, I could lose everything.’
 

‘He won’t. I’ve missed you Lissa. It must be a whole week since I held you like this.’ One hand gently cupped her breast and fire shot through her, making her gasp with pleasure and fierce need. How could she bear not to love him totally when she wanted him so much? Why did she stick so stubbornly to her worn out marriage vows? She worried that he would grow tired of her and leave, and how could she bear to lose him?

‘I used to think I was frigid,’ she told him, lifting her mouth to his, and blushed as she saw his eyes kindle with excitement, his arms tightening instinctively about her. For a long while they had no breath left for talking.

‘Frigid my giddy aunt! Depends who’s doing the asking,’ and she laughed.

‘I want you so much I could take you here and now upon the heather.’ He slipped his hand beneath her sweater so he could smooth the silken skin of her back and then beneath her bra to caress the luscious softness of her breast. It peaked hard and wanting beneath his fingers.

Lissa never resisted his caresses, giving a soft groan and pressing her body closer, even as she protested. ‘We mustn’t, Derry. Don’t ask. Please.’ As always they would break apart, tense and troubled, to walk in silence and try not to touch each other. It was ever this way, but after a few yards their fingers would interlock, their bodies sway together again and moments later his arm would creep about her waist and she would lean her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh.

‘When you go away will you forget me?’ she asked, breathless with pain as she waited for his reply.

‘Yes,’ he teased. ‘Instantly,’ making her laugh. How is the divorce progressing? Will Philip ever let you go?’
 

Lissa turned her head away, her face tightening. ‘I don’t honestly know. Perhaps, when the twins are grown. For now I’ve given up hope. What grounds do I have? He hasn’t been cruel or unfaithful or anything, and would take me back tomorrow like a shot. Everyone thinks him charming and handsome and well mannered, and that I must be mad to leave him.’
 

‘And a bastard.’

‘Derry.’
 

‘Isn’t he?’
 

She stared at the ground and kicked at a stone. ‘Let’s walk and not talk about him, you know it only upsets me.’ Silence again, more strained this time.

After a time they stopped and leaned on a stile to gaze out at the mountains. Coppergill Pass, and its neighbour Dundale Knot, its bowed head wreathed in grey mist like a vicar’s collar. The escarpment below the summit was pock-marked with old mine workings, grooved by shifting ice, plunging downward to the valley floor and a patchwork of green fields and grey stone walls. Sheep stood about, peacefully chewing or resting in the sweet grass, undisturbed by the two lover’s quiet presence.

‘I love this place,’ she said.

Lissa still hadn’t told Derry of Philip’s threat to persuade the water consultant to choose this dale for the reservoir. She hadn’t told anyone, hoping that it would never happen, though it haunted her sometimes, at night. She had hurt Meg once before, she couldn’t bear to do that again. But she risked so much by continuing to see Derry. Too much.’

The water consultant was no longer living at Nab Cottage and Lissa hoped that Philip had forgotten all about his dreadful threat. He certainly seemed to have accepted the situation and was not a problem to her these days. She scarcely had time to think about him anyway, as each day seemed filled with activity. But there was still that worry at the back of her head.

‘Meg and her family have worked this land for generations. Grandfather Joe, and his father before him. Meg’s old friend Lanky who left Broombank to her. And she scraped and saved, working all through the war to buy it and enough sheep to get her farm going. Sally Ann too had her struggles. How would they bear it if they lost it?’ But she didn’t say, ‘Because of me. Because of us.’
 

‘Why should they? It won’t ever happen.’
 

‘I hope not.’ Silence for a moment. ‘Philip has been surprisingly quiet lately. I don’t entirely trust him. Look what he tried to do to Nick and Jan. We must be careful. A shiver ran through her and Derry felt it. It gave him the strength to tell her what he must.

He rubbed his finger on a fringe of lichen that clothed the rough wooden post with a coat of velvet. ‘I’ve been thinking that too. I don’t want you, or the children, to suffer.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve decided. I leave next Monday, on the morning train from Windermere.’ He didn’t look at her now, though he sensed her whole body stiffen. ‘See if I still have a job to go to, eh?’
 

Lissa did not reply. She couldn’t. Her throat seemed locked fast in pain.

‘Seems we must both get on with our new lives.’ There was such bitterness in his voice that she tried to soothe him, in spite of the tears blocking her throat, filling her eyes.

‘It’s for the best.’ She turned away, knowing that if she stayed another moment she would beg him never to leave, and she dared not succumb to such wanton emotion. The risks were too high.

Derry stayed by the stile, watching her lithe figure walk away, her dark cloud of hair lifting in the breeze. When she reached the standing stones by the lane she turned and shielded her eyes to gaze back at him and lift an arm in a single wave. Then she climbed into her car and drove home to her twins while Derry looked back at the mountains, no longer able to see any beauty in the scene.

The next few days Lissa walked about in a daze. She had known, of course, that their idyll couldn’t last. Hadn’t they accepted long since that he must leave? What then had she expected or hoped for? That Derry’s departure could be delayed indefinitely? Why? For what purpose? There was no solution to her problem, no escape from her marriage. Soon Derry would be gone and she would be alone.

Lissa was at her lowest ebb when Philip called to see her that following Sunday afternoon. The shop was closed, Renee was at Nab Cottage making something delicious, no doubt, for Jimmy’s lunch. And the twins were in their beds having a short afternoon nap.

‘Wake them in a moment. There’s something I wish to discuss with you first.’
 

Lissa was at once on her guard, feeling alone and vulnerable. He usually sent Nanny Sue to collect the children, as he knew she made her feel more comfortable. She supposed it was the only reason he kept the woman on, and felt oddly grateful. ‘I don’t want any trouble, Philip. Please don’t start any.’
 

‘Have I caused any so far?’
 

‘N-no.’ Lissa hated herself for trembling and drew in a deep breath, steadying her nerve. She had nothing to fear from Philip any more. No longer could he bully her or demolish her with a well-chosen piece of criticism. She was free of his cutting tongue at last.

‘Then let us continue to be civilised about all of this, shall we?’

‘I’m sorry. Would you like coffee, a cup of tea?’
 

He smiled. ‘I would like you to sign this paper and I will go away and leave you in peace. For ever.’
 

She stared at it, white and rustling in his hand. ‘What is it?’
 

‘The divorce. Exactly what you’ve been asking for all these weeks. To be free. I’ve come to the realisation that there’s little point in continuing with this sham of a marriage. I dislike bitterness and rancour. Surely we can be two modern-thinking adults and accept the inevitable?’
 

Excitement leapt in her breast. ‘Oh, Philip, do you really mean it?’
 

‘You only have to sign.’
 

Caution reasserted itself as she recalled how he could so carefully control her. ‘But why this sudden decision to let me go?’

‘Perhaps I don’t like soiled goods.’
 

Lissa flushed deeply. ‘Derry and I never – I swear I’ve kept my marriage vows.’
 

‘But not in your mind.’ He held out the paper, a frown of irritation on his handsome face as she took it from him. ‘I deserve a wife who gives herself whole-heartedly, not grudgingly, as you have done. I’m not made of stone, Lissa. You’ve hurt me.’
 

She looked at him properly then and saw the sadness in his eyes, the etched lines of pain about his mouth and shame flooded through her. She rested her hand for a brief moment on his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’ Lissa knew she’d never loved him. No wonder their marriage had failed. Now she held the key to her freedom in her hand. She only had to sign and she would get her divorce. Derry wouldn’t have to leave tomorrow and they could start a new life together. Hope started up deep inside, conflicting with the strange new pity she felt for her husband. ‘I realise I’ve been an inadequate wife. You deserve better. We simply aren’t suited, Philip.’