Lakeland Lily (2 page)

She dreamed of making her fortune in the neighbouring village of Bowness. Of holding court in her own fine shop, perhaps a draper’s and mantle-maker’s, surrounded by silks and satins which she would fashion into much sought-after garments. These dreams made her life tolerable.

But she wasn’t thinking of escape today. Nor had she any wish to admire the view. She wanted only to melt into Dick Rawlins’s arms, to be caressed by his fevered hands and kissed into submission by his burning lips. How else was she to learn about life if she didn’t experiment a little? She was fifteen, after all.

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘What?’

‘That French kiss.’

Lily considered for a moment. It had felt a bit awkward at first with his tongue in her mouth, but then something very strange had happened to other parts of her, which she really didn’t like to think about. Mind you, the girls at the fish market had told her nasty things could happen to a girl after certain sorts of kisses. Was this what they meant? She’d hate to have to give up kissing Dick Rawlins. Lily slanted a smile up at him. ‘Happen I need to try it again, before I can decide.’

Taking hold of her shoulders Dick rolled her on to her back and without asking her permission to do so, stretched himself out on top of her.

‘Here, you cheeky tyke, what you up to?’ she demanded, pushing at his chest, though with little conviction.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t like this either?’ He made little movements up and down and even through her cotton frock and thick flannel drawers she was startled to feel his private parts rubbing against her, all hard and alarmingly large. Lily felt her cheeks grow hot and while she knew she should push him off, at the same moment she was too busy examining her own response and finding it entirely fascinating.

‘It’s all right, Lil. I won’t do anything to you,’ he grunted against her neck, and the sweat from him flowed inside the collar of her thin frock, leaving it all damp. ‘Not till after we’re wed, anyroad.’ He chuckled, while Lily frowned up at the blue sky above his head and wondered if she dared ask what it was, exactly, that he would do to her then, and how it would feel?

She was no fool, nor entirely ignorant of sexual matters, she told herself. It wasn’t possible to live in these streets and not gain some idea of the goings on between men and women. But it was a confused and distorted picture, filled with strange fears, whispered rumours, and unexplained gaps in her scanty knowledge. She’d asked her mother once, but Hannah’s cheeks had grown dark red with embarrassment and Lily had wished the words unspoken.

‘Fifteen is too young for such talk. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Lily Thorpe. Go and wash your mouth out this minute.’

Hannah Thorpe was of the opinion that the less her young daughters knew of such matters, the less likely they were to get ‘caught’. By which Lily understood her to mean, with a baby.

There were six Thorpe children, including herself, and it was still a mystery to Lily why her mother kept having them when she was so close to exhaustion much of the time. Lily had no intention of ruining her own health with a clutch of children, nor of spending her life washing, caring and cleaning up after them. So she needed to understand how it all came about, desperate to make sure she didn’t fall into the same trap.

‘Too much curiosity in you, girl. A woman makes bairns and a woman brings ‘em up. And there are times when they cost her naught but pain and trouble.’

‘Yes, but how? I mean, if they’re such a trouble, why do you keep making more? And why do men keep giving ‘em to you?’

‘Because the daft beggars think only of themselves! Remember that, Lily. Men allus think they’re in charge of everything, but theer’s some things they can’t do. Having a bairn is one of ‘em,’ Hannah had said with tart satisfaction, then added with a stern wag of one finger, ‘you take care what you’re up to, girl, and you’ll be safe. And that’s all I have to say on the matter.’

Thus the mystifying subject was closed, and Lily’s curiosity remained unsatisfied, her thirst for life all the greater.

Despite her patched clothes, scuffed boots and underfed immaturity, Lily Thorpe was a sight to see. Her brown hair, which she attempted to screw up into a knot on top of her head, shone with health and vigour, and when released, fell into a heavy brown curtain about her shoulders. The whites around the hazel iris of her eyes glowed, the dark lashes curled enticingly, and the expression on her heart-shaped face seemed ever to be filled with impish promise. If there was little femininity to be seen as yet in the curves of chest and hip or the skinny limbs, they would come, given time.

Lily was not unaware of her burgeoning charms and since her mother meant to keep her in ignorance, felt bound to find the answer some other way. Dick, nearly three years older than herself, and therefore with considerably more experience, was in Lily’s opinion the best person to satisfy these strange stirrings deep inside her. Particularly since they meant to marry one day.

They’d been walking out for some months and gone so far as to decide they were desperately in love and, as Dick himself said, ‘meant for each other’.

At first they used to sneak away into the woods where Lily had let Dick kiss her as much as he liked, and once she’d let him touch the bud of her small breast. The experience had been so electrifying it had left her quite breathless and thrown her into a panic. She’d never dared repeat it. There was clearly more to this cuddling lark than she had appreciated.

Since then she had taken care to meet him only in public places. Lolling at the corners of the back street, snatching a bit of gossip in her tea breaks from the fish stall on the market, or this favourite place on the ash-pit roof - near enough to her own house to offer security yet with a sense of privacy. Folk never thought to look up, even as they passed by a few feet below them, and the roof was shielded by taller buildings on each side.

Her thoughts were brought back to the present by the voice calling sharply yet again, ‘Lily!’ But Dick was still talking so she took no notice.

‘I won’t ask you to take them off, as many a chap might.’

Lily was shocked into utter silence for a whole half minute.
Take
off
her drawers?
The very idea! Her mother had told her quite firmly never to take them off, even in bed, or she’d ‘catch her death’. Lily wore them under an old shirt of her brother’s which she used in lieu of a nightgown. If she could catch a cold in her own bed, to remove them while on the ash-pit roof would be an act of utter recklessness.

‘Why would I want to, you cheeky tyke?’

Dick laughed softly in her ear. ‘You’re so sweet and funny, Lil, sometimes I could eat you all up.’

Lily gave him a sidelong glance from her flashing eyes. ‘So long as you take care where you put those wandering hands of yours, you can kiss me as much as you like.’

He accepted the invitation readily, kissing her till her chin was rubbed sore, her jaws ached, and a hot ache grew somewhere deep in her belly. When he rolled off her with a great grunting sigh, he left her with an unexplained need, like being thirsty on a hot day, though not half so unpleasant. Lily was sorry he’d stopped. She’d enjoyed the weight of Dick’s hard body against hers, the moist excitement of his mouth and his teasing hands. Trust her mother to spoil it, shouting down the yard in that common way.

Propping her chin in her hand, Lily gazed down upon him, seeing how his long lashes lay closed in an adorable crescent on the smooth skin of his cheeks. His fair hair was all tousled and boyish, pale pink lips partly open to reveal the glint of good white teeth, rare in these parts. Oh, how she loved him! The memory of that burning need rose sweet and strong in her, bringing a fresh spurt of pain between her legs. It all felt so shockingly dangerous that Lily deemed it prudent to occupy her mind with other things. She had no intention of getting ‘caught’ and being trapped in The Cobbles forever.

‘Are you going to talk to my dad tomorrow, like you promised?’

‘What about?’ Dick teased, in the kind of voice which meant he knew only too well but wanted to hear her say it. Lily flushed and pretended to slap him.

‘That you want to wed me, soon as we can.’

‘Sooner the better, if you carry on with other chaps the way you were with me just now,’ he said, his face so serious that it took a moment before Lily appreciated he was still teasing her. She tossed back her heavy hair and lifted that stubborn chin.

‘Happen, if you don’t look sharp about it, I’ll change me mind and marry someone richer,’ she told him rather sniffily, as if she had a queue of suitors lining up in her back yard, just waiting for the chance to marry her.

‘Happen there’s more interesting ways of choosing a husband than seeing how much money he makes.’

‘Such as?’

‘The way he kisses for one thing. You still haven’t said if you enjoyed it?’

Lily recognised his sudden vulnerability and laughed at him now, ignoring the question. ‘Oh, there’s so much we could do together, Dick. Go anywhere we want, make our fortunes.’

‘I wouldn’t want to leave the Lakes.’

‘Me neither, but there’s better places to live than this hole. We deserve better, and we could get it. You as the best carpenter in the district, me as a dressmaker.’

‘Nearly a carpenter,’ he reminded her, half laughing at her eagerness. ‘I’ve a few years of learning to do yet. And you haven’t even started.’

‘Who’s fault is that? Not mine. Oh, but I mean to! That’s the whole point of you speaking to my dad. Then he’ll see that we mean to stay together, mean to make something of our lives and go up in the world.’ Anxiety crept into her voice. ‘He’ll agree to find the money for my apprenticeship, I know he will, if
you
ask him. Five bob a week I earn helping Mam on the fish stall, most of which she takes back for me keep. And I hate it - all that filleting and gutting. There’s got to be more to life than that. You and me could be so happy together.’

He looked vaguely troubled, feeling events rushing away from him. Much as he loved Lily, and he
did
love her, at barely eighteen he had a long way to go before he could support a wife. He’d really rather enjoy the present. He pulled her close and started to kiss the curve of her throat. He’d heard somewhere that was a sure way to please a woman. It certainly seemed to work with Lily as she sank weakly against him.

‘Lily!’

‘Oh, lord, there she is again. It’s no good, I’ll have to go.’ Lily sighed with exasperation. She really shouldn’t still be at the beck and call of her mother, not at nearly sixteen.

Then she was pulling away from him, tidying her hair and straightening her skirt, her voice all bossy and anxious.

‘Mam’ll want me to put our Kitty to bed, I expect, or see Emma and Liza wash behind their ears.’ She punched him playfully in the chest. ‘You’re lucky to have no brothers and sisters. When Dad, Jacob and Matt get back from their afternoon stint at the boatyard, there’ll have to be hot water poured for them to wash, tea brewed and food on the table before they go out on the night fishing. I have to wait hand and foot on me own brothers, for all they’re younger than me, just because they’re male.’

Dick only laughed, as if he found her vehemence amusing.

‘It’s all right for you. All you need do is wash your hands and take your boots off and your mam’ll have it all done.’

‘You should be making my tea, not my mam. Would you complain then, Lily Thorpe, when it’s me you’re waiting on?’

She pulled a face at him. ‘I said I’d be your wife, not your servant.’

Dick grabbed her tightly round the waist and rolled her over to the very rim of the slate roof, making her squeal with delicious fear and excitement at his complete disregard for their safety. It was perhaps the wildness in him that she loved best. Once, he’d stuck them both into potato barrels and rolled them down Claife Heights. For a dare, he’d said. He’d won, of course. Lily had been covered in bruises for weeks.

‘Who says there’s a difference? You’ve promised to love me for ever and obey my every demand.’

‘What demands?’

‘These for a start,’ he said, kissing her again and running the palm of his hand right down her thigh to her knees where the hem of her skirt had rucked up.

She yanked it back down to her ankles, cheeks bright. ‘I never promised owt of t’sort, you cheeky tyke. You made that up.’ But her protests were weak, her teasing eyes enticing, small pink mouth opening and closing in pretend outrage, inviting him to make further onslaughts on her virtue, if he dare.

It would have taken a stronger man than Dick Rawlins to resist. He gave a low growl somewhere deep in his throat. ‘You’re a witch, Lily Thorpe, that’s what you are.’

‘Am I?’ she enquired, with an air of manufactured innocence, and no small degree of pride.

‘Oh, I do love you, Lil. I’ll wait hand and foot on you, if you like.’ As he reached to kiss her again, Lily’s heart soared with pleasure. He was her man and he loved her. Tied to her mother’s apron strings she might be but these few snatched moments with Dick made a dull life beautiful and exciting.

‘Lily? Are you down there? I’ll not tell you again. If you don’t come in this minute you won’t go to this Water Carnival you’re so set on. You can stop at home and read what the good Lord has to say on the subject of obedience.’