Lakeland Lily (9 page)

Bertie stepped eagerly forward. ‘Leave her be, Mama. Gone the wrong way, has it? Shall I get you some water, Lily?’

‘No, no. I’m all right.’

‘You live in The Cobbles, if I recall correctly?’ Margot persisted.

‘Yes.’ Furious with herself, Lily would have given anything to say otherwise.

‘Yet you are accustomed to eating such treats every day? You surprise me. I wouldn’t have thought they went with cabbage soup.’

Lily flinched, wishing in that instant she had never ventured into this dreadful woman’s fancy drawing room. But however much she might long to say that yes, her mother made cream fancies every day and they always ate at least three each for tea, she couldn’t - nay,
wouldn’t -
pretend to be what she wasn’t. That would be denying her heritage. Yet not for the world did she wish to admit the fact that this was the first time she’d ever tasted one in her life. Before she’d found some way around her dilemma, Bertie, bless his heart, spoke up for her.

‘Stop your bullying, old thing. I told you I’d brought Lily here for a treat. Now let her enjoy her tea in peace.’

Margot smiled with the satisfaction of a woman who knows she has found her mark. ‘Of course. And she must indeed enjoy it. We have so much it really doesn’t signify. Half of it will be thrown away as it is. When the servants have had their pick, that is.’ Her laughter trilled out and the assembled company tried a few stiff smiles. Then, swivelling in her seat, she addressed Lily more directly.

‘You must send your mother round with a basket tomorrow, dear, and we’ll find a few leftovers for her.’

Despite this inauspicious start to their friendship, and the huge gap in their respective lifestyles, Bertie and Lily continued to meet, albeit in secret.

As promised, he did take a flight in the
Water Hen,
coached by the pilot, a Mr Stanley Adams. The trip took place during the day while Lily was working at the fish market. But she could hear the buzz of the plane high in the sky and once caught a glimpse of it as it soared over the lake.

‘Against the rules of nature,’ was Hannah’s opinion. ‘What it must cost to fly that thing for one afternoon would keep us for month, I don’t doubt. Pity the rich haven’t summat better to spend their money on.’

Every penny her mother earned, including most of Lily’s wages, went into buying food the likes of which Mrs Clermont-Read didn’t even know existed. Stale bread at least a day old, bruised fruit and vegetables, cracked eggs, and sometimes on a Sunday, as a change from tatie pot or the hated fish, they would have bacon bits bought cheap at the Saturday market.

So Lily made no mention to her mother of her budding friendship with the young man now soaring over Carreckwater in a crazy machine.

But she did manage to sneak off from home at every opportunity, leaving more of the household chores to her sisters. Lily wasn’t quite sure where all of this was leading, or even what her aims were in striking up this friendship with Bertie Clermont-Read, but fate had brought him into her life and she was eager to let their friendship continue, if only to see what came of it.

He took her out and about with flattering regularity. He would walk her over Loughrigg Fell or down to Skelwith Force where they would paddle in between the great stones and splash each other, squealing like children as the ice-cold water chilled their bare feet.

‘It’s wonderful to be out with a gel without all that fuss over chaperones.’

Lily would laugh, as if she understood perfectly the restrictions of being middle-class and rich. And if sometimes he held her hand, he made no attempt to kiss her. Lily
wasn’t quite sure whether to be relieved or disappointed about this.

On her day off he’d drive her down winding country lanes in the gig, which was such a great thrill Lily would almost wish her family could see her, looking so grand and elegant, like a real lady.

They would travel along by dry-stone walls and white-washed cottages with their circular Lakeland chimneys. She would enjoy the glories of pink weigelia, showy rhododendron and the purple clematis and sweet honeysuckle that tumbled over garden walls. Sometimes they would walk through the woods, the scents of yew and laurel, pine and beech, all around them. And between the latticework of branches could be glimpsed the broad flanks of the hills, misted pale in the distance or lit with a glorious patchwork of sun and shadow.

Never once did Lily refuse an invitation from Bertie. Why should she? She enjoyed any excuse to get out of The Cobbles.

‘I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life in that dreadful place,’ she told him, with what she believed to be the right degree of haughtiness. ‘I deserve better.’

‘Course you do, old thing.’

‘I have plans.’

‘Knew it the moment I clapped eyes on you.’

She told him all about her ambitions because Bertie made such a sympathetic listener. ‘Over these last two years I’ve saved hard.’ She kept the amount secret, fearful he might mock. One pound and two shillings in an old tea caddy, hidden under the floorboards beneath her bed. ‘I want enough to rent a small house of me own. In the smart area of Carreckwater, naturally. Or mebbe Bowness or Windermere. Then I’ll buy a sewing machine and set meself up as a dressmaker,’ she told him.

‘Splendid. I’m sure you’ll achieve it, Lily
.
You’re such a dashed fine person.’

She wasn’t sure how she would acquire the necessary skills for this grand ambition, even if she found all the money, but Lily did not in any way allow this to daunt her. She’d had plenty of practice at hand-sewing, hadn’t she? Helping her mother make hookie rugs, turn and patch bed sheets, and crochet blankets from scraps of wool made out of pulled back socks and cardigans. Lily felt she was an expert on thrift but privately admitted she’d a lot to learn about style.

‘I don’t care how or what I do, so long as it’s respectable and earns me a good living, d’you see? And from the look of the posh gowns the young ladies wear who stroll along The Parade, dressmakers must do well enough.’

‘Absolutely,’ Bertie agreed. ‘I shall send Selene to patronise you.’

Lily made no comment upon this anticipated honour.

Then one day she managed to save enough to buy herself a blue print frock from the rag market. It was far too big for her, of course, but several late nights spent stitching by the light of the gas lamp turned it into a neat new gown for herself. She unpicked the waist-band, took in the bodice and sewed the whole lot back together again. Then she trimmed the hem and elbow-length sleeves with a deep blue braid.

‘By jove, you look splendid,’ Bertie told her as she twirled and preened herself in front of him on their very next outing. She’d begged her mother to let her finish work early for once. Lily knew she shouldn’t ask, for Hannah had seemed even more tired than usual lately, but she’d arranged to meet Bertie behind the old boathouses and was desperate not to be late. Now he sat on an upturned boat, his eyes devouring her.

‘I’ll set you up myself, if you like?’ he generously offered, impressed by her skills.

‘
Bertie,
the very idea! What are you suggesting?’ And her merry hazel eyes laughed up him, making him blush, as she so loved to do. Lily found it alarmingly easy to embarrass Bertie, and sometimes felt a pang of guilt at the way she took pleasure in so doing.

‘Steady on, you’ve got it all wrong. I never meant anything of the sort. Nothing, you know - improper, dash it.’

So upset was he she should interpret his offer as a proposition that he slid, all arms and legs, down the hull of the boat and landed in a heap on the grass, gazing ruefully up at her. ‘I mean, there might the sort of female who - well, I dare say there are - only, a chap wouldn’t dream of asking a girl like you, Lily.’

She put her hands on her hips and laughed at his panic. ‘I know you wouldn’t, you daft haporth.’

Then she went and sat beside him, enjoying the warmth of his body beside hers, breathing in the clean expensive tang of
him and feeling a long-forgotten sense of
power stir within her. Bertie Clermont-Read was potty about her, and would do absolutely anything she asked, Lily was perfectly sure of it.

‘You’ve always shown proper respect for me, Bertie.’

‘I should jolly well hope so!’

‘I appreciate that. A lot of men wouldn’t, bearing in mind where I live.’

‘What’s that to do with it?’

‘You’re not ashamed of me?’

‘Absolutely not.’

A teasing glance. ‘Haven’t you ever fancied a kiss?’

‘What sort of question is that to ask a chap?’

‘You’ve never tried.’

‘Wouldn’t want to scare a gel, would I?’

Lily chuckled. ‘Who says I’d be scared?’

Then she cupped his face between her hands and kissed him full upon the lips. The kiss wasn’t half so exciting as the remembered delights of Dick’s lips, but not by any means unpleasant. When she broke away, he was blushing all the more.

‘You’re a dashed good sport, Lily.’

‘And you’re a good, sweet man.’

The devil of it was that this was entirely true. How could she set out to take revenge on such a kind gent? But then it wasn’t the gallant Bertie she wanted to take her revenge on, was it?

Lily had asked him several times if she was ever to meet his family again.

‘If you’re not ashamed to be seen with me, and if I look so fine in me new frock, mebbe your ma would approve of me now? I am your girl, aren’t I, Bertie? Should I visit again, and see how it goes?’

An expression of anxiety crept over his boyish features. ‘Why would you want to do that
?
Mama was pretty rotten to you the first time. It’s true she can be a funny old thing. Bit blunt, and all that. But means no real harm, of course.’

‘Course not,’ Lily generously agreed. But privately wondered what was the point of walking out, assuming you could call it that, with Bertie Clermont-Read, if it didn’t give her the opportunity for which she most longed: to get even with his family. In what way exactly she meant to achieve this, Lily wasn’t sure. But she ached to ruin Margot’s life, as the woman and her family had so heartlessly ruined hers. ‘We may get on better with further acquaintance, you never know. It takes time, after all, to build friendships.’

Bertie considered the delicate machinations necessary to make a friend of Margot and his usually smooth brow wrinkled with worry as his fingers plucked at strands of grass. Even his smattering of freckles seemed to stand out in alarm at the very idea. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, but he surely owed it to Lily at least to try. She was his best pal, after all. And he’d no wish to fall in with Mama’s plans, not at any price. His brow cleared as an idea came to him.

‘We take the
Faith
out every weekend. You could come on one of our picnics. We go to one of the islands, and in September an especially long trip to Kelda Bay. Mama loves picnics and is always in a good mood then. I’ll ask if you can come too.’

Lily squealed her delight, and, flinging her arms about his neck, impulsively kissed him again. This time his arms came about her and they both fell back into the long grass, fully engrossed in the activity for some moments. It was hard to know who was blushing the most when they were done.

‘I’ll take you with me anyway, whatever she says, damned if I won’t,’ Bertie decided, gasping for breath.

He insisted on walking her right up Fisher’s Brow to the end of her alley, which he’d never done before, promising that he’d fix it up for September, even if he couldn’t manage it earlier.

Lily
watched him go, her mind busy. September was two long months away, but she didn’t mind. It would give her time to think and plan. Now she turned and started along the sunless street, her boots clattering on the cobble sets.

Bertie hadn’t exactly said she was his girl, had he? Yet she must be, otherwise why would he agree to risk her meeting his family again? Trouble was, for all he was a lovely man, did she really want to be his girl?

It was true that she’d enjoyed his kisses, but she’d best take care. It was vital to her plan that she stay in control. Hadn’t she come one step nearer to her goal today? It was long past time for herself and the Clermont-Reads finally to settle their differences.

Lily was filled with sudden nervousness at the thought of seeing Margot again, and had to stop for a minute, leaning one hand on the wall till her heart stopped its racing. She must get a grip on herself. This time she must be prepared for the woman’s acid tongue.

And hopefully Lily would also meet Bertie’s father. She’d never forgotten her feelings as he offered her his card, as if grieving could be settled like a business transaction. There were a good few things to get off her chest when she met up with Edward Clermont-Read again. Oh, dear me, yes. Though how she would go about it, she wasn’t quite sure.

Lily skirted a group of young children playing hopscotch on a patch of broken paving stones, their bare feet slapping in the overflow of water from an open sewer. She turned into Carter Street, and as if he’d been conjured out of her thoughts saw Percy Wright, the landlord’s agent, picking his way between the puddles towards doors which shut fast and were locked before ever he reached them.