Lakeland Lily (24 page)

Her voice was growing more fervent as she warmed to her argument. ‘Mebbe they just want a bit of a start like, to help themselves. A bit of consideration. Then they can make their own decisions, their own mistakes, and be independent. The folk
here
need consideration,’ Lily flung an arm out, indicating the miserable scene, ‘a bit of help to improve their lives, not be blamed all the time because they’re poor.’

Edward was staring at her, nonplussed, admiration for her spirited defence of The Cobbles dwellers growing despite himself. At last he asked more quietly, ‘So, what is all this talk of politics about, Lily? What is it you want from me?’

Had she gone too far? She hadn’t meant to get embroiled in all this Empire stuff. What did she know about it anyway? Nothing except what her teacher, Mrs Jepson, had told them all those years ago. But Edward had riled her with his pomposity and talk of class. She was fair sick of such talk, she was really. Lily couldn’t stop now. She shook back her wet hair and continued undaunted, ‘I want you to do summat for this place. You spend enough money on your fancy house, on dinners and posh frocks, not to mention your steam yacht. It’s time you spent a bit on the houses you expect your tenants to live in and pay good money for.’

Edward looked affronted. ‘There are worse places, Lily. In Manchester, for instance, which I see every day. The people of Salford might think the folk here well off by comparison.’

‘I dare say they might, but that’s no reason to stand by and do naught about the mess we’ve got on our own doorstep, is it? We’d mebbe have less misery and disease in this world if we all did a bit more.’ She jabbed a finger at him, hazel eyes glittering with heartfelt passion. ‘I read in Margot’s paper the other day how half a million children are ill fed and diseased. We ought to be ashamed,’ she finished stoutly, refusing to be put off by the way he bit down hard on his well-chewed cigar. ‘But you landlords are all the same. You do naught because t’other chap does naught either.’

This was, of course, quite unanswerable. Edward, being a fair-minded, if blinkered, man could recognise when he’d been neatly cornered. ‘You have spirit, Lily, I’ll give you that. You’re not afraid to make a stand for what you believe to be right. I like that in a person, particularly in a woman.’

She gave a half smile. ‘That compliment sounds a bit back-handed to me. I say I’m as good as the next man, woman or no. I’m certainly as good as you, Mr Clermont-Read, any day of the week.’ And to her amazement, Edward chuckled.

‘By heck, lass, you may well be right. You’re a woman and a half, you really are. Does nothing frighten you?’

Now her smile widened to a grin, and with the flat of both hands she wiped the rain from her face, pushing back the tendrils of hair that stuck to her rosy cheeks. The gesture seemed sharply to delineate the sculpted beauty of her face. ‘As a matter of fact, there is. I fear for my child - your grandchild - growing up in a hole like this. Becoming one of the half million who die, like my sister Emma.

‘If I’m a fighter, it’s for them, for our Emma and others like her.’ Her throat became constricted with sudden pain. Lily glared at the muddy hem of her dress, taking several minutes to bring herself back under control.

Their silence lasted the whole length of Carter Street as they swished in and out of puddles, then Edward said, ‘If I agree to help you, what would you do for me in return?’

Nonplussed, Lily stopped to face him, causing a woman walking with her head down against the rain, to bump into her and curse. ‘Like what? What could
I
do for
you
?’

‘You haven’t exactly been a cooperative daughter-in-law, now have you? You must be well aware you drive Margot to distraction.’

‘Is that my fault? She was against me from the start.’

‘Do you wonder at it, in view of your elopement?’

‘That weren’t my idea,’ Lily said heatedly.

‘Wasn’t.’

Lily flushed at his reminder of her poor grammar while Edward drew deeply on his cigar and blew out two smoke rings. They both watched as the smoke rose slowly in the damp air to be battered apart by raindrops. Then their collective gaze moved on to the sight of a small, half-naked child seated on a doorstep, bare feet splashing in a puddle murky with unknown horrors.

Edward sighed. ‘I’m not sure how I’m going to find it, but you can have some money to improve your precious Cobbles. Only it’ll be a waste of time. It’ll be as bad as ever the week after you’ve done, see if it isn’t. In return you must make every effort to fit into life at Barwick House, as Bertie’s wife. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘I’ve not been given a chance to fit in.’

‘I’m giving you one now. I’ll speak to Margot, as I’m speaking to you. No more dissension. You’re Bertie’s wife and we must accept that. If I’m to do something about this -’ he glanced about him in unconcealed disgust, ‘you will make every effort -
every
effort,’ he emphasised with a wag of his cigar, ‘to get along with Margot and fit into your new life. Is that agreed?’

It was amazing, Lily thought, how all her efforts at vengeance always backfired on herself.

Lily’s first task was to recruit assistance. Bertie readily volunteered, though even at her most courageous Lily dared not defy Margot by taking her recently recovered son back into the den of iniquity whence he had caught his fever, particularly in view of the bargain she’d struck with Edward.

Dora Ferguson-Walsh, however, was only too ready to stand in his stead, bringing along a group of equally worthy friends to help. Lily also went in search of Rose.

‘Aye, I’ll help, but what we can do I can’t imagine. Making any improvement to this place seems bleedin’ well impossible!’

‘You’ll be surprised,’ Lily said, with the kind of resolution in her eye that no one could withstand.

The first thing they did was to issue everyone with carbolic soap, derbac for nits and lice powder. Then there was a medicine, known as ‘the mixture’, which claimed to be a cure-all. Lily and her team administered it to every willing mouth, old and young alike, for whatever conceivable ailment they complained of, from a bad back and sleeplessness, to coughs and colds, sore throats, ring worm and measles. Any suspicious symptoms were reported to the doctor who sent along the fever ambulance. The diphtheria epidemic had largely run its course, but no one was taking any chances.

Limewash was issued for cleaning walls, disinfectant by the bucketload, something vicious called Klenzit Kleener and yards of sticky fly-papers in an effort to stem the growing invasion of bluebottles.

‘You’re right, Rose, it seems little enough, but it’s a start,’ Lily told her friends.

Each evening she would go back to Barwick House where she’d wear one of her new gowns and sit at table eating beautifully cooked food from best china plates. Her heart wasn’t in it but Lily knew she’d little choice in the matter. She became two people, living in two worlds. Lily Thorpe of The Cobbles, and Lily Clermont-Read of the fancy lakeside mansion. There was a strange unreality about it all, yet she couldn’t deny that her life with Bertie was pleasant. They would walk in the garden together of an evening, enjoy the delectable food at Margot’s tea-parties, picnics and dinners. And make love in the big brass bed. Best of all Lily played with her darling daughter, watching her grow safe and strong, and beautiful. The ease and comfort of it all grew upon Lily, little by little; insidious, seductive, adding to her sense of guilt.

Each morning as she returned to The Cobbles, she knew that half her eagerness to get there early derived from a desire to catch a glimpse of a certain figure. Nathan Monroe had volunteered his services from the start, but, tipping her nose in the air, Lily had stubbornly told him that his assistance would not be needed.

‘I’m sure you’ve far important matters to attend to,’ she’d told him. ‘Like bullying your way to the top on the backs of the poor you so outrageously overcharge on that steamship of yours.’

‘It’s not my steamship. Yet.’

‘There you are then. Exactly my point,’ she said, rather confused, and flounced off, cursing herself for becoming embroiled in yet another dispute with him, for didn’t it only unsettle her?

Lily really had no wish for Nathan Monroe to help her at all. That would mean seeing him every day, working alongside him, feeling his closeness. No, that was the last thing she needed. Yet still she looked for him, felt nothing but misery if he didn’t appear for a few days. She pretended that this was because he irritated her so much, refusing to recognise the way her cheeks bloomed whenever he came near, the way her breathing grew shallow and her heartbeat quickened at the mere sound of his voice.

To compensate for these inconsistencies in herself, Lily stepped up her quest and squeezed yet more money out of Edward. He scowled and protested but finally agreed to make more funds available.

‘Don’t forget our agreement,’ he reminded her. ‘You’ll be expected to attend Margot’s ball at the end of the season. I’ve spoken to her about it and she’s agreed to have you fitted for a new gown.’

It almost burned Lily’s throat to agree, but fortunately Margot chose not to be present at the dress-fitting session, though Selene enjoyed the experience enormously.

‘Dear heaven, it’s like turning a mule into a mare. What sensible square hands you do have, Lily, and quite ruined by all this work you do, of course.’

‘All in a good cause,’ she said in a tight little voice, struggling to hold on to her temper, as promised.

If she was not the socially acceptable wife for Bertie that Margot would have wished, what did it matter? Lily had the extra money she needed for her plan for The Cobbles. She didn’t care a jot about Margot’s ball, or her agreement with Edward. Her aim was to take him for every penny he was worth, wasn’t it? In payment for Dick, for Emma, and for her poor mother who still fought for her every breath in the sanatorium.

Throughout that summer Lily made regular visits to Hannah, though she was only permitted to wave to her from a distance. She lay in a high iron bed that, like a dozen or so others, stood in a regimented line along a veranda that had one glass wall which could be thrown open to the weather. Though freezing cold much of the year it was considered health-giving, the only palliative for consumption. It seemed to do Hannah no harm. Lily was delighted to find her making progress.

She sorely missed her mother’s companionship, and when the work got too tough one day, turned away from The Cobbles and all its associated problems and walked instead up the steep hill to the sanatorium. At last acknowledging her obsession with Nathan Monroe, Lily decided that she was in dire need of Hannah’s counsel. She needed to get her life in order, to subdue all thoughts and desires for a man not her own husband. Lily wondered what her mother’s reaction would be if she dared ask for such help?

For once she was actually allowed into the day ward, and found Hannah seated in a cane chair, smiling and looking almost her old self. Lily would have liked to run to her but this was not permitted. Instead, mother and daughter both wept, at last able to share the grief that still haunted them both. Thankful to be together again.

They could have talked for hours instead of the permitted twenty minutes, Lily telling Hannah about her efforts to clean up The Cobbles, Hannah more interested in family. She asked after Arnie, Liza and Kitty. ‘And your own wee bairn?’

‘Oh, Amy’s fine. She’s walking now, and into everything.’ Lily was happy enough to talk about her lovely daughter, how she was growing out of babyhood and into a proper little person of her own now, and with her father’s colouring and her mother’s hazel eyes. But when Hannah enquired if she was being a good wife to Bertie, Lily grew confused with feelings of guilt over the thoughts which filled her head day and night. Memories of cosy suppers with Nathan and Bertie; of Nathan’s touch upon her skin; of the intimate way he used to smile at her, as if they were two people sharing a secret her husband knew nothing of. How just to be aware of being in the same street as him set her nerves jangling.

Her decision to ask for advice set aside in this confusion, Lily changed the subject back to her work in The Cobbles. ‘Everyone’s pitching in. It’s wonderful what’s being achieved. And it’s costing Edward a small fortune.’

‘It’ll not last. He’ll grow bored and refuse any more, as others have done before him,’ Hannah said. ‘Anyway, I thought you wanted out of that place?’

‘I am out.’

‘So why go begging folk for help?’

Lily felt a surge of irritation with her mother. Why couldn’t she see? Why couldn’t she understand that you had to fight for what you wanted in this world? ‘I did. I do. But why shouldn’t we ask for help? The Clermont-Reads owe it to us, owe it to everyone who lives there. They make enough profit out of us. You should see the money they spend on their tea-parties and picnics. One such would keep all of Mallard Street in grub for a week. Anyroad, I’m not doing this for their benefit, or mine for that matter.’

‘Aren’t you? This isn’t about that accident then? About Dick?’ The blunt question silenced Lily. Hannah had always been too sharp when it came to reading her daughter’s mind. As always it made her feel vulnerable to be understood so well. Lily fixed her gaze on her hands as she clasped and unclasped them in her lap, in case Hannah should read other thoughts in her eyes.