Wishing Water (27 page)

Lissa’s violet eyes blazed with sudden fire and she swung about to face her friend, more furious than Jan had ever seen her. ‘Don’t give me that! He’s doing this for himself. Your brother isn’t to be trusted, Jan. He let me believe he loved me. I certainly fell for his line of chat and gave him everything a girl can give. So there, now you know. He’s no good, and I don’t ever want to see him ag...’ Her voice choked on a strangled cry.

‘Oh, love, I didn’t know.’ Then Jan was holding her in her arms and Lissa was biting hard on her lower lip to stop the tears which would surely come if she lost control for only a second, From outside came the sound of a car’s horn.

Jan clicked her tongue with impatience and pulled aside the curtain to peer out into the darkness while Lissa searched frantically in her bag for a powder puff. ‘Why does he never come to the door in a civilised fashion?’
 

‘Perhaps he senses your disapproval.’ Lissa slipped into high stiletto heels, collected the cashmere stole Philip had bought her and moved to the door. ‘Don’t wait up, I might be late. He’s taking me to the theatre at Keswick and dinner afterwards.’ If she didn’t get out of the room fast, she would burst into tears. ‘In any case, Jan, I really don’t think it’s any of your business. Do you?’
 

‘Well, look who the wind’s blown in,’ Renee said.

He stood on her doorstep trying not to look shamefaced. Renee blew on her bubble gum and cracked it. ‘You’d best come in.’
 

‘Thanks.’ She hadn’t changed, he thought.

Over a cup of very welcome tea and several ginger biscuits that went some way towards abating his hunger, Derry briefly told his tale, trying to make a joke of how he’d dreamed of seeing his name on a record label and having it played on Radio Luxembourg, and failing miserably.

‘Poor love,’ she said, as if she were years older and wiser than him. ‘All that effort with nowt to show for it.’ She watched him pick up two more biscuits. ‘Have you eaten lately?’
 

‘Not today.’
 

‘This week?’
 

He smiled. ‘Not that I noticed.’
 

Less than fifteen minutes later Derry was sitting down to a plate loaded with lamb chops, baked beans and chips.

‘By heck, Renee, you’re a treasure,’ he said, tucking in with gusto. He couldn’t remember when a meal tasted so good.

‘Generous to a fault, that’s me,’ she said. ‘Eat up. I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.’
 

Later, as he sat replete on the opposite side of the brown tiled fireplace, Derry thanked her. ‘You’re all right, Renee. I’ll forgive you for nabbing my dad. Though he’s too good for you.’
 

‘Thanks a bunch. I’d’ve waited forever for you to get round to it.’ She grinned happily at him, content with her lot. ‘You thought you’d got young Lissa in the pudding club, did you? Then ran away, to avoid trouble?’
 

Derry’s cheeks flamed bright scarlet and he was on his feet in a second. ‘No, course I didn’t.’ He stopped, appalled. ‘She isn’t, is she?’
 

‘Ooh, not far wrong, was I? Well, well. She wouldn’t be the first it’s happened to.’ Renee smiled, orange lips clashing horribly with the shocking pink of her sweater. ‘Happen I’m only teasing.’
 

‘What?’ Colour rushed back into his ashen cheeks. ‘You rotten... You mean she isn’t?’
 

‘Not unless she’s carrying it in her handbag. Thin as a rail she is these days. Mebbe Philip Brandon likes her that way though.’

‘Philip Brandon?’
 

‘Aye. Your ex-boss, no less.’ Renee took an age to light up a cigarette. ‘Escorts her everywhere, or so I’m told. Not that I see much of her these days. Quite the gad-about-town. Wouldn’t recognise her, you wouldn’t. Come out of her shell good and proper. Ain’t that right, my pretty Peter?’ she finished, directing her last words to the budgie, busy bashing its mirror, as usual.

Derry stood in the tiny, overheated parlour and looked so stricken that a wave of maternal sympathy washed over Renee. ‘Oh, poor cherub,’ she gushed, wrapping her arms about him to pull his head down to her rounded breasts. ‘She’s cheated on you, the rotten madam.’ Renee thought how good he felt against her breast. But then he’d always had a good body, had Derry. She wriggled closer. ‘And you were a wonderful lover, she must be mad.’
 

He tried to pull away from her clinging embrace but the scent of her was so familiar, of strawberries and lipstick and summer days, and he felt so wretched that when she put her lips against his, he didn’t protest. She reminded him of a time long past when he hadn’t a care in the world. She placed his hand on the soft cushion of her breast and it felt so comforting he forgot for a moment that it was Lissa he wanted, not Renee.

The front door banged open and the scent changed to wood shavings, rain and the acrid taste of varnish.

‘Oh, bugger me,’ Renee calmly said, pulling away from his arms. ‘Now the cat’s among the pigeons, ain’t it, Peter my pretty boy?’ Derry found himself staring into the furious eyes of his father. It was some moments of scarlet-faced embarrassment before he managed to speak.

‘Christ! This isn’t how it looks.’ He wished he’d died of starvation in those awful lodgings. Fallen in the Thames or under a London bus.

Renee was the only one still in possession of her voice. ‘Just giving the poor little love a step-motherly cuddle.’ And going over to Jimmy she gave him a smacking a kiss. ‘Had a bit of a disappointment, our Derry. Come home to lick his wounds. Are you ready for your tea, love?’ Jimmy neither moved nor answered. ‘A stiffener, mebbe? I think we’ve got some sherry somewhere. Celebrate the return of the prodigal, eh?’
 

She went to the new sideboard and poured out three glasses, placing them on a small, tile-topped coffee table. Two stood untouched while she took her own back to her chair by the fire and beamed at her husband and stepson.

‘Well now, isn’t this cosy?’

Jimmy glared at his son. ‘Out.’

‘What?’
 

‘Out. This is
my
home,
my
wife, and I’ll not have that sort of behaviour here.’
 

‘But I never ...’
 

Jimmy pulled open the front door, every taut line of his wiry body declaring he would stand no argument. He emphasised his words by ominously pushing up his sleeves. ‘Don’t make me any madder than I already am, Derry. I’m not a man given to violence but I have my limits. You’ve never shown any respect for Renee. Now you’ve gone too far. Out.’
 

‘OK, I was going anyway. I only came back to see how you all were.’ Derry swaggered to the door.

‘Go and see her,’ Renee called as he marched off down the front path.

Derry didn’t reply, didn’t look back. But he winced when he heard the door slam and wished he could turn back the clock and make it all come out different. Now he was at odds with his father, on top of everything else. Dear God, what was happening to him?

It was one of those beautiful clear nights that often come in early spring. The sky was studded with stars while a pale moon floated in the black waters of the lake. Lissa stared at it through the windows of Philip’s car and wished she could float into a magic world where everything was beautiful and there were no more bitter disappointments.

‘You’re not cold?’ he asked, ever considerate, and she turned to him with a smile.

‘No, I’m fine. Thank you for a wonderful evening. Would you like a cup of coffee?’
 

He glanced across at the boathouse, in complete darkness. ‘What about Jan?’
 

‘She’ll be in bed by this time.’

He smiled. ‘Fine.’
 

He stood and watched her as she moved about the small kitchen, enjoying the sway of her slender hips, the rise and fall of her breasts. How patient he’d been. He was really quite proud of himself. But not for much longer. He could feel he was winning.

‘It was a good meal, wasn’t it? I love trout. And the play was superb. Time we enjoyed some culture. Next time we’ll try a concert in Lancaster.’
 

He was growing ever more proprietorial, making decisions for her. Lissa never protested, it saved her the trouble of making them for herself. What did it matter where they went? She smiled her agreement. ‘That would be lovely.’ Philip knew so much and she so little. She appreciated his efforts to educate and entertain her. And he made her feel safe.

Miss Stevens had decided to sell the shop and take early retirement so she mightn’t have a job for much longer. The prospect of starting again, seeking new friends, a new job, perhaps a new home, chilled her.

Nor did she wish to return home to Broombank. Jan was happily planning her wedding and Lissa couldn’t bear the prospect of watching her glowing happiness. It would be too much. It would make her feel even more of an outsider and unwanted.

‘You don’t know what these evenings have meant to me,’ Philip was saying. ‘You’ve made me the happiest man on earth.’
 

Lissa glanced at him in surprise. ‘Have I?’
 

He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, smoothing his hands lingeringly down her spine and over her hips, the sensuality of the gesture catching her unawares. ‘You must guess how I feel about you, Lissa. You’ve filled my rather dull life with joy. You can’t imagine how much I needed someone like you, only I never thought I’d be so lucky. Since Felicity died…’ He stopped and seemed to take a minute to collect himself. Lissa’s heart filled with sympathy. She knew about pain.

‘It’s all right. There’s no need for you to talk about it. I understand how you must have felt when she died in that tragic way.’
 

His dark eyes swam with gratitude. ‘Of course you do. Because you’ve known pain too. Darling Lissa, what can I say? You humble me by your beauty. I want you never to suffer pain again. We both of us deserve so much more, a new beginning. To have you here, beside me, makes me the richest man in the world. All I ask is to spend the rest of my life making you happy. I believe you feel exactly the same way.’ He was taking her hand, slipping something into it.

She glanced down, surprised. ‘Philip?’

‘I’ve decided it’s time we made it official.’
 

She opened the box in a daze and stared at the ring, no more than a glittering blur in her hand.

‘If it isn’t the right size I can get it altered. You do like diamonds, don’t you, darling? Let me put it on for you. There, perfect. Flawless, like you, darling.’
 

‘I am far from perfect.’ Diamonds. Ice cold. Many-faceted. Diamonds are right for me, she thought.

‘To me you are.’ He kissed her cheek. Chaste and undemanding. ‘I thought June for the wedding. Far the best month for weather. A reception at the Marina Hotel. You have no objection to June?’
 

She gazed up into his face, his eyes filled with a quiet eagerness to please, anxiety to make her happy. Offering the stability and security she craved.

‘I need you, Lissa.’
 

It was what she most wanted to hear. No more broken promises, no more rejection. A simple and uncomplicated relationship, dependable and caring, untroubled by too much emotion.

‘June would be perfect,’ she said.

Lissa was upstairs showing Jan her ring as Philip had suggested when the knock came. Philip crossed the room and opened the door. Derry stood on the step, mouth dropping open in shock.

‘Mr Brandon.’
 

Philip half glanced back over his shoulder, then stepping out, pulled the door closed behind him. His voice was low with unspent anger. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
 

Derry’s brain was spinning so fast he could hardly find the words. ‘I want to see Lissa.’
 

Philip jabbed one finger in Derry’s chest, pushing him backwards down the steps and on to the shingle. ‘The last thing Lissa wants is you hanging around, creating trouble.’
 

‘I’m not here to make trouble. I need to talk to her, that’s all.’
 

‘She’s no wish to talk to you.’
 

‘How would you know?’ Derry wanted to ask what Philip Brandon was doing in the boathouse at past eleven o’clock at night but couldn’t seem to get his tongue around the words. Maybe because he was too afraid of the answer. ‘Isn’t that something she should decide for herself?’
 

‘You promised to stay away. You know what’ll happen if you don’t.’
 

Derry stiffened. ‘Is that some kind of threat?’
 

‘My boat is still undergoing repairs.’ Quietly spoken, with undertones of menace.

Derry gulped. ‘I never touched your bloody boat. Maybe I’ll face the police and tell them that.’
 

Philip’s dark eyes raked over Derry from the top of his tousled head to his dusty shoes. ‘You could try it, but think of the risk. I see you haven’t made your fortune yet. Quite the reverse in fact. Scruffier than ever, if you ask me, in that old leather jacket and Teddy Boy jeans. The world is moving on, Derry. It really is time you started to grow up.’