Wishing Water (7 page)

‘I’m sure they’re not as bad as all that.’
 

‘Don’t you believe it.’ Jan pushed back a swathe of dark hair and her small pointed face broke into one of her infectious grins. ‘You’ll probably be glad to leave after only a day, and who would blame you? Though I confess it’d be a great help to me if you did stay. Keep me sane. Oh dear, that sounds awful.’
 

Lissa found herself responding to the ready smile even as her mind thought, no, it didn’t sound awful at all. It sounded about right. People generally thought only of themselves in her experience, thrusting from her memory all Meg’s selfless acts of generosity over the years. ‘I don’t care what your reasons for asking me are, I’m grateful for the offer.’

But she did care, she cared very much. How she would love someone to invite her into their life simply because they liked her and wanted her for herself.

Jan tucked her arm into Lissa’s. ‘I knew as soon as I saw you that you were kind. Clever too, I shouldn’t wonder. Not like me, thick as a brush and half blind into the bargain.’ She burst into a peal of merry laughter. ‘Derry says I should carry a label: “Dangerous. Too vain to wear spectacles.” Then everyone would know to keep out of my way. I hate doing the window for that reason, and you did it a real treat today.’
 

Lissa was laughing too, and could feel their friendship growing, minute by minute. It was a good feeling, so perhaps things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

‘Here it is. Colwith Castle. Well, Nab Cottage in point of fact.’

‘What’s wrong with it? It’s lovely,’ Lissa said, gazing approvingly at a stone cottage, the end one of a row, with winter jasmine growing up one corner of it. ‘Delightful.’
 

‘It’s my dad,’ Jan blurted out. ‘Mam died just three months ago.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
 

‘It was expected. She’d been ill for a long time. But Dad, well, he took it into his head to marry again. Derry thinks it’s too soon, too disrespectful, and to the wrong person.’ Jan pulled a wry face. ‘I dare say he’s right.’
 

‘I see. And what do you think of your new stepmother? Do you get on? Is she nice?’
 

Instead of answering, Jan pushed at a small, green-painted gate and held it open while Lissa squeezed through the resulting gap. They’d called at the grocer’s on the way home and what with Lissa’s suitcase and the shopping they were both heavily loaded. They walked up the short path and straight in through the green front door.

‘You can decide that for yourself.’

The first thing that struck Lissa about the Colwith household was the overpowering heat. The windows and doors were all firmly closed against possible cool spring breezes and a young woman sat huddled close to two bars of an electric fire. It glowed bright orange against the brown tiles of the fireplace - the same colour, in fact, as her lipstick. Her frizzed, bleached hair was held up with combs on top of her head, revealing a pair of purple glass earrings that swayed and bobbed about her rouged cheeks. She wore a pink fluffy sweater and a tight black skirt which she had pulled up to her thighs to warm her bare legs, mottled with scorch marks from the heat.

A blue budgerigar chirped noisily from a cage that hung on a stand in the comer. During the ensuing conversation Lissa watched it, fascinated, as it alternately chattered to itself in a mirror or bashed the life out of a swinging bell. Perhaps the heat was meant for him.

‘About time you got here,’ the woman grumbled. ‘I have to go soon, you know.’ She didn’t get up, or offer to help, as Jan marched straight through to the kitchen with the shopping. ‘Put the kettle on, love. Your dad will be home in a minute and he’ll not like being kept waiting for his tea.’
 

‘Why didn’t you do something about it yourself then?’ said Jan from the kitchen. ‘Surprise me for once.’
 

‘I’m off to work soon. Don’t I see enough food, waiting on at the hotel, without starting here? Anyroad, it’s your house, as you’re so fond of reminding me.’ She leaned back in her seat with a smile of satisfaction as if she had won some sort of contest.

Embarrassed by the animosity in the atmosphere, Lissa set down her bag and stared at the rings of faded orange flowers on the worn brown carpet, wondering what to say, what best to do. Could this be a sister that Jan hadn’t mentioned? Surely not the new Mrs Colwith? She was little older than herself. Twenty at most. How old would Jan’s father be? She glanced at the woman and at Jan who was busily slamming things into kitchen cupboards. Too old.

‘So who have we here?’
 

Lissa started, as if caught out in her thoughts. She stepped forward, one hand outstretched. ‘Hello. I’m Lissa – er - Lissa Turner.’
 

Grey-blue eyes, heavily ringed with black mascara, gazed curiously up at her. ‘You don’t sound too sure. Mind you, I’m having trouble remembering me own at the moment.’
 

‘Oh, so you are?’
 

‘Old Mother Riley.’

‘What?’
 

‘Who the hell do you think I am?’
 

Jan came to her rescue. Hooking her hair behind her ears in a now familiar nervous gesture, she flickered a smile at Lissa. ‘This is Renee. My new stepmother.’
 

Renee giggled and reached for a pack of cigarettes that were propped on the corner of the mantelpiece. ‘Right laugh that, eh? We were in the same class at school, her and me. Now I’m her bloody mother.’
 

Lissa tried not to let it show that the information jolted her, readjusting the age of the teenage bride from twenty back down to sixteen, seemingly old beyond her years behind the mask of make-up. ‘Oh,’ she said, ineffectually. ‘I see.’
 

Lissa watched with interest as the match flared and was applied to the cigarette, the bright tip glowing to an orange disc. It seemed to match the unidentifiable swirls on the wallpaper and the worn carpet. Come to think of it, the whole room was filled with strips, blobs and circles of orange and red, some bright and dazzling, others smudged and faded. It made her head spin. No, that must be the heat. Even the linen antimacassars on the brown moquette three-piece suite were embroidered with pretty ladies in orange crinolines and red poke bonnets.

It was a shabby, tired sort of room, rather untidy, with several mugs and cups and saucers scattered on every surface which Jan was now hastily gathering up. A pair of filthy fur-trimmed slippers sat on the tiled hearth looking rather like a dead cat, and an ash tray overflowed with cigarette ends.

‘May I sit down?’ Lissa considered the settee covered with discarded newspapers and old woollen cardigans and hesitated.

‘Suit yourself.’ Without moving from her chair Renee called to Jan who had scurried once more into the kitchen, ‘What’s for tea then?’
 

Jan appeared at the door, saw Lissa’s dilemma and swooped the settee clear, making irritable clicking noises with her tongue. ‘I’ve bought some smoked haddock. I thought I’d poach it with a bit of butter.’
 

‘We haven’t got none. Only a scraping of marg left.’

‘I got paid today so I bought a packet.’
 

‘Is it Friday already? Crikey, how the week does fly when you’re having fun.’ Renee drew deeply on the cigarette then threw back her head and blew smoke rings up at the yellowed ceiling. Lissa tried not to look impressed.

At that moment the door opened and Renee was out of her seat in a flash, flinging herself into the arms of a man who brought with him a smell of sawdust, the sharp tang of paint, and damp fresh air. From what Lissa could see of him he was small and stocky, wearing blue jeans and a dark navy sweater. Renee removed his peaked cap and started to run her fingers through his dark hair, instantly twining her pliant body against his so it was hard to tell them apart. Lissa quickly averted her gaze from the deep, passionate kiss which followed and threatened to continue indefinitely. Her heart went out to her new friend, and their eyes met for a moment in shared sympathy and understanding.. She could see exactly why Jan had been glad of some company.

‘Ooh, you devil you!’ gasped Renee, wiping orange lipstick from his lips and cheek. ‘Have you brought it then?’ She squealed when Jimmy Colwith grinned.

‘It’s coming on Monday. A Ferguson. Twelve inch. How about that? Next door’s is only nine.’
 

‘Oh my giddy aunt! A television of me own.’ Renee screamed, flung her arms about Jimmy’s neck and started to kiss him all over again.

When the celebrations were finally over she staggered back to her chair by the fire. ‘My God, you do go at it once you start, don’t you? Give a girl a break, will you?’ She flopped down, legs sprawling, and again Lissa averted her gaze from the look of almost naked lust in the girl’s translucent grey-blue eyes. It made her feel slightly sick.

‘Who have we here?’ Jimmy Colwith came and propped himself on the arm of his wife’s chair, slipping his arm about her shoulders and letting his hand dangle, one finger gently circling her left breast. Lissa could tell by the amusement in his eyes that he guessed she found the gesture offensive. What had she let herself in for, coming here? Meg would be outraged.

Jan was explaining about her taking the job at the shop and needing a room.

‘Only for a little while, till I find a place of my own,’ Lissa quickly put in, making a silent vow to start looking this very weekend.

‘In Carreckwater? You’ll be lucky. Rents are sky high these days with all the trippers. It’s more profitable to take in summer visitors than shop assistants as lodgers.’
 

‘I suppose it is.’ Her heart plummeted.

‘We’ve not that much room here neither. Where did you intend sleeping? With our Jan? Or our Derek?’
 

Lissa blushed bright scarlet and Jan slammed her hand down so hard on the table, the little cruet set danced.

‘Dad, how can you? Lissa is my friend, my guest, and only just walked in the door. She doesn’t understand your weird sense of humour.’
 

‘Then we might as well start as we mean to go on, eh?’
 

‘It’s all right,’ said Lissa, manufacturing a laugh. ‘I can take a joke with the rest.’
 

‘Course you can,’ said Jimmy, pleased with the small sensation he had created. ‘Anyway, she could always bunk in with me, when Renee’s on nights. I don’t mind sharing.’
 

There was a small, tight silence.

Renee leaned forward, patting Lissa reassuringly on the knee. ‘It’s all right, lovey. He won’t bother you. He has enough trouble keeping up with me.’ And she smiled so warmly that to her surprise Lissa found herself smiling back.

They all sat at the small table, covered with an orange checked cloth, and Jan brought in the smoked haddock which smelled surprisingly tasty. Lissa felt herself start to relax.

Derry caused a slight stir by unexpectedly turning up to share the meal with them. A disagreement at once took place between brother and sister since he had assured her he would not be home this evening.

Lissa cast a covert glance in his direction as he took off the overlong jacket and slackened his tie, leaving it to hang loose over the white shirt. He was really quite attractive close to, she couldn’t help but notice. She hadn’t paid too much attention in the shop since Miss Stevens had chased him fairly smartly off the premises. Now Lissa caught him returning her scrutiny, grinning mischievously at her, and she bent her head quickly, trying to concentrate on her meal, acutely aware of him as he came to sit beside her.

‘You could have warned me that you might change your mind, Jan was complaining, cutting her own piece of fish in half, preparatory to shovelling a portion on to a clean plate for him. Lissa felt instantly guilty since she was the extra person at dinner.

‘Derry can have mine. I’m not really hungry.’ She was starving. She had left home at eight to give herself ample time to conduct her search and had skipped lunch, despite Meg’s protests, out of sheer nervousness.

Jan looked doubtful, as if she knew it would be polite to refuse but was sorely tempted all the same,

‘Go on, take some,’ Lissa urged.’ We can at least share two portions into three, make it better all round.’
 

So Jan was persuaded, ignoring Derry’s grins and winks at Lissa, which made it patently obvious the motivation for his change of plan. Nobody commented upon the fact that neither Jan’s father nor Renee volunteered to share their portions. The pair silently got on with their meal, eyes never leaving their plates except to dwell lingeringly upon each other.

‘You can come and listen to me practise afterwards, if you like?’ Derry offered, as if bestowing a gift.

‘Practise is what he needs,’ Jimmy said, through a mouthful of fish. ‘Spare her ear drums, laddie.’
 

‘Practise what?’ Lissa was intrigued despite herself.

‘Guitar, what else?’
 

‘Fancies himself as Elvis Presley, my son does.’
 

‘No, I don’t. We have a skiffle group, not a rock ’n’ roll band. Not that you would know the difference for all you pretend to be young and with it.’ Derry flung a glowering glance at Renee before returning his glare to his father. ‘You’re square, you know that? An old has-been. We can’t go on listening to Perry Como for ever.’