Lakeland Lily (51 page)

‘I need more help,’ she wailed, as she burned the midnight oil checking bookings, adding up columns of figures, and still had to be up at dawn to help with the loading of wood on to
 
and
Faith.

She called on Rose, much to her old friend’s surprise. ‘Why would you want me?’

‘Because I need help and it’s time you did something with your life besides sell vegetables. Anyway, you’re my friend, aren’t you?’

‘Happen. What about Bertie?’

‘He doesn’t wish to be involved with my boats.’

‘I meant…’

‘I know what you meant. Are you interested in the job or not?’

Rose shrugged. ‘Why not?’

Rose was installed in a wooden office painted bright blue on the pier, which improved bookings enormously. Her bright face seen through the window seemed to draw people to make enquiries. She chalked details on blackboards and stuck them all over the place, often next to those set up by Nathan. If no customers appeared she would walk up and down crying out in a loud cheerful voice as the other boatmen did. If they dared complain, she’d give them short shrift. ‘If you can yell your heads off, so can I, woman or no. Roll up, roll up. Whatever they have to offer, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll better it.’

‘Comfort and refreshments on board the
Lucy Ann.’

‘The luxurious
Lakeland Lily
will take you to secret islands, where those lumbering old boats can’t go. Or a private picnic on the
Faith
,
if you prefer. With champagne.’

‘Orchestra on board to play all the latest tunes,’ cried the Public Steamer man.

‘Dancing and music while you eat. Cheapest fares on the lake. Roll up, roll up.’

‘Cream teas.’

‘Three-course dinners,’ Rose recklessly offered, not knowing whether it were possible or not but determined to make it so.

Her attitude to the customers was friendly but far from servile, as if she had something very special to offer and if they couldn’t see that, then the fault was entirely theirs. They’d hear her shouts and come over out of curiosity, quickly make their booking and thrust money at her. Sometimes, if a note was offered, Rose would screw it up in her hand as if this happened every day of the week and she could afford to treat it with contempt. Then when the customer had gone she would smooth it out with a licked finger and put it carefully in the box she kept under the counter.

Lily watched all of this with pleasure and saw her takings rise.

1923

Rose’s presence gave Lily more time to spend with Thomas. Grown into a sturdy schoolboy now, he had become far more demanding than when he’d been small. She contrived as well to spend what time she could with Bertie. That summer they would often sit in the conservatory together after dinner, or on a dry-stone wall watching the boats on the lake. Another pleasure was helping their son with his swimming lessons, and introducing him to the joys of Lakeland.

‘I’m glad we’re still friends, Lily,’ Bertie told her one Sunday afternoon as they walked over to Carreck Woods, Thomas bounding ahead, all long legs and big feet like an overgrown puppy. ‘A real family again, eh? Isn’t he making a fine young chap?’

‘He is,’ Lily proudly agreed, watching her young son shin up the trunk of a tree then drop into a pile of soft leaves.

There was a small silence. ‘We should have more babies, don’t you think? A house needs a full nursery.’

She thought of her exhausted mother and her own private vow not to end up the same way. Nor had she any wish to share her husband’s bed again. Lily wondered, from time to time, whether the lack of intimacy in their marriage troubled Bertie. If so, he’d showed no sign. Please don’t let him ask me, she silently prayed.

‘Babies aren’t so easily produced, and they grow bigger, remember.’

Bertie snapped off a twig and began to swish at the long grass. ‘The more Thomas grows, the more interesting he becomes. He’s learning to sail and I mean to build him a small boat of his own. I should like four children, two boys and two girls. Wouldn’t that be perfect, now that we are happy together, Lily? Don’t you think it’s time.’

Lily looked into his radiant face and fleetingly wondered if it would be worth having a nurseryful, as he put it, in order to sustain this precarious happiness.

Then she thought of Nathan and the sacrifice she had already made, and her stomach churned at the thought.

She swung away from him, walked over to a large beech and leaned against its gnarled trunk while gazing upon the green and blue landscape framed by the overhanging branches. Fingers of sun poked between like shards of golden glass viewed through a mist of tears.

‘Isn’t it a glorious day?’ she said over-brightly into the silence. ‘Look, there’s a half-sunken boat. Could we rescue it, do you think?’

‘I was talking about babies, Lily, not boats.’ There was irritation in his voice now. ‘You’re obsessed with the bally things.’

One of the Public Steamers glided slowly by, leaving a herringbone pattern in its wash and a plume of white smoke from its funnel. What she wouldn’t give to own such a vessel! One that would carry hundreds, not dozens, of people. They’d make real money then.

‘Perhaps I am,’ she murmured, then laughed self-consciously. ‘When would I have time for babies? The business must come first, Bertie. We have to earn our living now, remember.’ She’d given up asking for his assistance. Accepted, as Edward had done before her, that Bertie was not meant for a working life. Sad but true. ‘I’ve taken on Rose to help with the paperwork. Did I tell you?’

‘Rose?’ He sounded surprised, almost shocked.

‘She’s doing wonders on the pier, and it leaves me more time to order supplies and do the bills. I was getting horribly behind, and if we aren’t efficient, we’ll fail.’

‘Does that matter?’

She stared at him for a moment, nonplussed. ‘Of course it matters. Heavens, Bertie, are you mad?’ She could have bitten off her tongue. She really shouldn’t let his silliness trouble her. Bertie knew nothing about business. She closed her eyes, tired after the week’s work, dreaming of smooth waters and soft breezes in her hair, but his next words left her reeling though they did not at first quite make sense. ‘I never meant it to happen, you know. It was an accident.’

Only one accident came to Lily’s mind, so she sighed, murmuring something about it all having happened years ago. ‘You weren’t even there that day.’

‘No, I mean the
Lakeland Lily
. I
only went to see what it was that kept you so fearfully busy and away from me all of the time. I was so dashed jealous. You’d no time for me any more.’

Lily’s eyes flew open and she looked into his boyish face, soulful and guilty, as if he’d been found digging into his tuck box after lights out.

‘Tell me what you did, Bertie?’

‘Only struck a match to light the lamp, don’t you know, to take a proper look. Though it was still pretty dark and I blundered about quite a bit. The dratted thing must’ve fallen over. Everything seemed all right when I left, Lily. Not that I actually remember too well.’

‘You were drunk.’

It was not a question but a statement of fact and Bertie did not attempt to deny it. He pressed his lips together in a resigned sort of way and nodded. ‘I dare say I must’ve been. Sorry, old thing.’

All that agonising over who might have had it in mind to destroy her, trying to decide if Selene was right in her accusation, imagining some dire plot against her. She’d accused Nathan of arson, and all the time it had been Bertie behaving like a drunken idiot! Jealous and sorry for himself at her supposed neglect of him. Lily could almost see him stumbling about the boat, cursing as he fell over, then forgetting what he was about and skulking off to bed, leaving an overturned lamp to smoulder and destroy.

She could hardly believe such wanton carelessness. True, he had not been himself ever since the war, but then few people had. If his problem had been something recognisable, like shell-shock, or neurasthenia as they were now calling it, she might have coped better with him. But a sense of failure seemed to have soured his character utterly. She’d thought since last winter that he was getting better, little by little. It seemed not.

The flare of anger quickly died and Lily’s heart went out to him, and she sighed with sad resignation. Perhaps another baby would help to bring back the fun they’d enjoyed in the early days of their marriage - if she could only carry out such an act of generosity. Then again, since he was no longer the same man, what sort of a father would he make?

Whatever her motives for marrying Bertie in the first place, perhaps because of them, he deserved her care and consideration. He must be given a purpose, one that restored his faith in life, and in himself. Who better to do this for him but Lily, his wife?

She felt relieved that Nathan’s innocence had been proved, but that didn’t alter the fact that he was gone from her life, not for a few months or a year but for ever. Any attempt to see him again, as she so longed to do, could tip Bertie over the edge. And God knew what he would set his hand to then.

Each day at dawn, before she started work on
Lakeland Lily
,
she loved to walk along the twisting lane that wound up the hill past a cluster of white-walled cottages, wisps of smoke coming from the circular stone chimneys. She liked to trail her fingers along the harsh lines of dry-stone walls softened by pads of velvet lichen, clumps of green fern and winter-flowering jasmine. Once in Carreck Woods, the silence enveloped her, making her feel whole and strong. Lily loved to breathe in the scent of damp earth, lay her cheek against the shiny bark of a silver birch, or sit quietly on one of the thick roots which erupted from a craggy knoll.

She loved this place, needed its peace and the sanctuary it offered from the turmoil which was her life.

This morning she smiled as a family of roe deer quietly surveyed her before continuing with their feeding. She made no move, afraid to startle them. Treading softly was becoming second nature to her these days.

She was alone in the woods as always. These were her private moments at the start of each day, when she could think and dream and recall happy times. Once down in her office or on the boats, there wasn’t a moment to herself.

Lily hadn’t seen Nathan in months, though there were times when she felt his presence beside her like a living ghost. Even when she caught a glimpse of him going about his work, he didn’t stop to speak to her, nor she to him. But the pain of living without him burst upon her fresh and raw each and every day. That last afternoon months ago, following Bertie’s revelation, she’d gone to offer him an apology,

‘I was wrong to accuse you of firing the
Lakeland Lily
. I
know now who it was.’ She’d looked into his face and wondered how she’d managed to keep away from him so long. The sun lit his dark hair to gleaming black silk and she could scarcely stop herself from smoothing back a stray curl. If only, she’d thought, I could see the expression in his eyes. They were narrowed to mere slits beneath his dark winged brows.

‘Come with me.’ He’d grasped her arm and, ignoring her half-hearted protests, marched her along the pavement almost at a run, forcing her into the front seat of his motor. It was a new Morris and very smart.

‘I - I can’t come with you. I’ve an appointment with the Lake Commissioners in half an hour.’

‘You can spare me ten minutes.’

Lily had made no further protest. Wasn’t she almost glad to be compelled to remain with him?

Once outside the village Nathan stopped the car and turned to her. His voice seemed to come from a long way off. ‘You look well, Lily, if a little tired.’

‘Thank you.’ She remembered to this day the sick feeling in her stomach, how she’d kept her eyes on the distant mountains, veined with snow like threads of silver.

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.’

Knowing he was there beside her, so close she could smell the clean soapy tang of him, feel the warmth emanating from his body, touch him if she liked, caused Lily to waver in her resolution. How could she possibly contemplate a life which did not hold Nathan in it? ‘We agreed that it was over,’ she reminded him.

‘You decided.’

‘It’s for the best.’

‘Best for whom?’

‘Oh, Nathan, don’t! Best for Bertie. For me. For all of us.’ She risked a glance into his piercing blue eyes so he could see the truth of her words, and the effort they cost her.

There was a breathless, heart stopping silence, then Nathan leaned closer to press his lips to hers, softly brushing her mouth so that it opened beneath his like a flower to the sun. ‘Not best for me,’ he whispered.

Her heart thudded inside her chest, robbing her of breath and leaving the bittersweet ache of desire in its place. Perversely the fact that he was barely touching her made her want him all the more. Her skin felt as if it were on fire, scalding with need. Never in all her life had she felt such pain. Lily could hear her own voice begging him to let her go, to leave her alone, though he had withdrawn and she was perfectly free to let herself out of the car and walk away. Had she wanted to.