Wishing Water (6 page)

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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

BOOK: Wishing Water
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‘Stop fussing. If I can’t call in at lunch time and talk to my own sister it’s a poor do. Anyway, I might buy something, mightn’t I?’ He swaggered outrageously, making Jan giggle as he strolled into the centre of the floor, hands in pockets, to gaze about him with a fine display of urbane assurance. They both knew he didn’t feel half so brave as he appeared but that was all part of the joke. If the last customer had been a dinosaur, Miss Stevens was a dragon.

‘What a sight you do look, Derry. Where did you get those socks?’
 

‘Don’t you like them?’ He hitched up his trouser legs an inch or two, which was no mean feat judging by their narrowness, to reveal bright, lime green socks. He grinned. ‘Cool, eh? They’re luminous. I’ve got some shocking pink ones too.’ He pulled out a comb and started to slick back his already neat quiff which made Jan laugh all the more.

‘No wonder Miss Stevens calls you a Teddy Boy.’
 

She looked again at the socks and the thick crepe soles of his shoes. Her gaze slid over his long grey jacket, only an inch or two short of Teddy Boy length. Admittedly the lapels were not velvet but they tapered narrowly and hooked with a double link button at the waist. The most conventional garments he wore were a pristine white shirt and a slim grey tie. At weekends he was fond of a rather dashing silk waistcoat or a leather jacket and skin-tight jeans. But today was Friday, a work day.

‘Sorry to disappoint you, sis, but I’m not really a Ted. Get as near to it as I dare but haven’t quite got the nerve to go all the way. Besides, old Brandon would never permit any of his clerks to dress so outlandishly, even in their free time. Old fuddy-duddy, that’s what he is.’
 

‘What does he think of your socks?’

‘Er, he hasn’t seen them.’
 

‘Make sure he doesn’t then or you may be forced to apply to Miss Stevens for a job.’
 

Derry rolled his eyes heavenwards with exaggerated charm. ‘I’d rather chew nails for a living.’
 

Jan started tidying away gloves. It had been a long morning, starting shortly after eight, and she was tired. Her legs were aching, she was hungry, and not really in the mood for her brother’s jokiness so she spoke more sharply than she intended. ‘What did you want anyway?’
 

‘Ooh, sorry to bother you.’ He fingered the net on a hat that dangled on a T-shaped counter stand and Jan slapped his hand away. ‘Only to tell you I won’t be home this evening. I’m going over to Tony’s.’ His apparent nonchalance did not sit easily with the glance he slanted at her.

Jan pursed her lips then let them burst open in a tiny explosion. ‘Oh, that’s so unfair. So I’m to cope with things on my own again, am I?’

‘You do it so well.’

‘Dad will be hurt.’
 

‘Let him be. He should have thought of us before he brought that - that creature home.’
 

‘You didn’t think she was a creature once.’

‘I’ve learned different.’
 

Jan’s eyes were pleading. ‘I know you’re hurting but don’t make trouble, Derry. Please. We have to live with the situation whether we like it or not. There’s nothing else we can do.’
 

‘I don’t have to sit there watching them bill and coo. Where my mother used to sit,’ Derry said, a fierce brightness in his brown eyes.

Jan fell silent, unable to summon up the energy to argue, or the right words. After a moment she said, ‘Mum’s gone, Derry. Dead and buried. Life goes on.’
 

He started circling the shop again, running his hands over the glass counters, flicking the ribbons that hung in brightly coloured rows from their reels, spinning a stand of buttons round like a whirligig.

‘Stop that, you’ll do some damage.’ Jan studiously gave her attention to smoothing out the gloves, slipping each one into its appointed place in the drawer, a sick feeling settling in her stomach at the prospect of a difficult evening ahead.

‘Had any applicants for the vacancy yet?’
 

Jan shook her head. ‘Most of Carreckwater are wary of Stevens Drapery.’
 

‘Except you.’ Derry raised enquiring eyebrows at her, but his smile was conciliatory.

‘I don’t have much choice, do I? I like to eat.’
 

‘Where is she now, the old harridan?’

‘At lunch.’
 

‘It’s nearly two. What about your lunch?’
 

‘I get half an hour. When she comes back. Just time for a quick sandwich and to powder my nose.’ Jan wrinkled it ruefully as she stowed the glove drawers back under the counter. ‘Speaking of lunch, hadn’t you better go and eat yours?’ She glanced at him, anxious suddenly. ‘You did remember to pick it up from the kitchen dresser, didn’t you?’
 

He sighed and propped one elbow on the counter, cupping his chin in his hand while he grinned at her. ‘Yes, sister dear, don’t fuss over me. I’m a big boy now.’
 

‘I sometimes wonder.’
 

‘I’ve eaten my corned beef sandwiches and very good they were too, though a touch more pickle would be appreciated.’ He didn’t tell her that he’d also popped into the pub for a meat pie and half a pint of bitter.

‘Cheek! Do them yourself in future. I’m not your servant.’ She aimed a swipe at him and laughed as he ducked. Then, as wickedly spry as if he were still a boy of ten instead of seventeen, he leapt up into the window and positioned himself among the mannequins.

Jan squealed her dismay, running round the counter to make a grab for him. ‘Derry, stop it. You mustn’t play your silly games here, especially not in the window. You’ll cause mayhem. Miss Stevens may be back at any moment. Do behave.’ She’d grown quite breathless with anxiety as her words fell upon deaf ears. Her brother simply grinned, sticking his arms out in imitation of the mannequins.

‘Why do they stand in this silly way?’ he asked.

‘Because they do.’
 

‘Don’t you think I add a touch of class? Perhaps people will like my socks and come in and buy them.’ He glanced out through the window as if expecting a queue of people to have formed already and found himself looking down into a pale, oval face with wide, dark blue eyes.

He was startled, as, apparently, was she. Then a wide mouth broke into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen and he stared entranced for what might have been eternity.


Mr Colwith
. Have you quite taken leave of your senses? Get out of my window this instant.’
 

The dragon had returned, via the back door, which was most unsporting of her in Derry’s opinion. The stentorian voice made him jump so violently he knocked his head on the low ceiling. Turning too quickly he sent one mannequin in a smart apple green two-piece flying. Instinctively he tried to catch it but that only made matters worse as he elbowed the stomach of the one behind him and his thick crepe soles got caught up with another. The mannequins came down like dominoes, arms and legs flying free in a kind of celebratory
danse macabre.
All he could do was helplessly watch them fall, a bright blonde wig dangling from the link button of his jacket.

He stepped down into the shop considerably chastened. ‘I’ll put them all back…’
 

Miss Stevens grasped his ear in a pincer-like grip and marched him to the door.

‘Out!’ she barked.

Derry cast an agonised glance at his sister but Jan was beyond words, her face as white as the sheets that were used to drape the precious models in the stockroom.

‘Look, I’m sorry…’
 

‘Hello!’ The pansy-eyed girl stood in the doorway. ‘The card in your window says that you need a new assistant. I don’t mind hard work, and could start right away if you like, by fixing the accident you seem to have had.’
 

 

Lissa had fallen in love with Carreckwater the moment they drove into it. She thought it a delightful little village, situated as it was in a wooded valley in the heart of Lakeland with its very own small lake. To the north was Rydal and Grasmere, to the south Ambleside and Windermere. The jagged, snow-tipped peaks of the Langdales stood proudly to the west, and in the east Kentmere. Beyond that came Broombank and her own beloved fells

She knew that it was her cheek that had got her
this job, and best of all, the other girl shop assistant had quickly offered accommodation in her own home.

‘If you don’t mind sharing, that is?’

‘Not at all.’
 

Lissa had raced off at once to collect her suitcase from the car and tell Meg she could go home without her. It had been hard, suddenly, saying goodbye to Meg, despite the friction that had grown between them recently but at the same time Lissa was excited, looking forward to a new beginning.

‘You’ll write regularly, and come home to see us from time to time?’
 

‘Of course I will. I’m not a million miles away, am I?’
 

They stood facing each other, uncertain, awkward, then Meg put out her arms about Lissa and hugged her. It felt slightly awkward and Lissa knew Meg still felt some resentment over her desire to find Kath, as well as her more recent teenage rebellion. Now Lissa just wanted to lean her head on her foster mother’s shoulder and beg her forgiveness, to try to explain all that was in her heart and somehow make her understand. But Meg was stepping away from her, moving to the car, smiling a distant smile as if she couldn’t wait to get away.

Lissa didn’t see Meg’s tears as she drove away.

 

‘It’ll have to be a camp bed in my room,’ Jan apologised as they walked home that evening.

Lissa assured her that would be fine. ‘I’m so thrilled to have got the first job I’ve applied for. Did many people apply for it?’
 

‘Er, well, as a matter of fact, you were the only one.’
 

Lissa looked startled for a moment then both girls burst out laughing.

What did it matter? She knew she would enjoy working with Jan. Lissa liked her friendly smile, her brisk, no nonsense way of doing things, and her petiteness. She already loved the rows of dark Lakeland stone cottages that seemed to huddle convivially along narrow streets or gossip together in ancient courtyards.

The two girls chatted freely as they made their way down a crooked flight of stone steps by the old stone church.

Lissa wanted to keep stopping to gaze in the shop windows, one selling jewellery, another clocks and ornaments made from slate. Here was a tiny gallery hung with lovely pictures to please the tourists while yet another sold more practical items of paraphernalia needed for climbing the beautiful mountains that surrounded the small village.

She was beginning to feel quite buoyant about the future. She might even come to think that Carreckwater was as exciting as Canada in the end. Carrec, Jan told her, was an old Celt word for rock, which rose precipitously all around the lake.

The small cottages gave way to larger Victorian villas strung out around the perimeter of the lake. The kind of houses, she guessed, that had been built by the rich cotton magnates in the last century.

‘Sorry to disappoint you but we don’t live in one of those.’

‘So, no butler and maid-service to go with the camp bed then?’ Lissa teased.

‘Nope, you have to wait on yourself.’ Jan grinned, then frowned, looking oddly uncomfortable as if suddenly regretting her hasty offer. Lissa, thinking she’d offended her new friend, hastened to reassure her.

‘I’m not serious. I live in an old farmhouse. Big, admittedly, but draughty, freezing cold much of the time, and desperately quiet.’ A vision of Meg and Tam seated within the warmth of the great inglenook rose in her mind’s eye, and she caught her breath at the wave of homesickness that struck her right between the ribs. Jan didn’t notice, she was too deep in her own thoughts. They turned left, away from the villas and entered a labyrinth of cobbled streets beyond.

‘You can catch a glimpse of the lake from the attic window and that’s about it. Not that anyone lives in the attic, it’s full of junk.’ Then rushing on in one breath, ‘I’d best warn you that things aren’t exactly what you might call normal, in our house at the moment.’

‘Oh?’

Jan flicked a glance at her new friend, wondering how much she should divulge of the Colwith family problems.

Lissa must be about the same age as herself, Jan decided, a year younger than Derry who was just turned seventeen. But there was an odd stillness about the girl that troubled her. As if she had known great sadness or was afraid to reveal any part of her real self. Jan wondered what had brought her to Carreckwater. Only the retired and the holidaymakers came voluntarily as a rule. She didn’t want to put her off or make things sound worse than they were. Life was tricky enough. Thanks to Derry as much as anyone. She came to a quick decision to take a leaf out of her brother’s book. Whenever Derry didn’t want anyone to probe too deeply into his feelings, he hid behind a shield of jokiness.

‘Let’s face it,’ she said, laughing, ‘no one would willingly come to live with my family. What a shower!’

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