Wishing Water (41 page)

‘Yes, I do understand,’ swallowing her bitter disappointment. ‘But the season is only just beginning, all the shops are taken and we have hundreds of pounds worth of stock. Will you give me some time at least, to find an alternative?’
 

‘What of your husband? I’m sure he meant you to close down altogether. He won’t be pleased by such an arrangement.’ Miss Stevens had poured tea from a pretty little porcelain teapot in her pretty little conservatory. A safe, well-ordered life, and Lissa had felt again that nudge of envy. She had neither security nor freedom.

To make matters worse she was haunted by the thought of Derry being back in town. Why did he have to come now? Of all the times to choose, he came when she was at her most vulnerable.

Lissa had not seen him since that dreadful day, nor did she wish to. Yet the knowledge that he might appear around a corner, that she might see him by the lake when she was out with her children, or hear his voice when she lifted the phone, left her jumpy and sleepless. She had lost him years ago. Now she was trapped in a loveless marriage with a husband determined to destroy every part of her life which did not include him.

A few evenings later Lissa sat on a hard chair in Carreckwater Town Hall, listening to the speaker express his concern over the latest plans for acquiring water from Lakeland, aware that yet again she was risking Philip’s displeasure. Yet somehow she felt more resolved than ever to do so.

‘I’ll not have my wife wandering about town in the evening,’ he would sternly inform her whenever she expressed an interest in going out.

On this occasion, fearing another argument, she hadn’t even asked. When Renee had asked her to go to the meeting with them, Lissa had readily agreed. certain she needed to be there. She was a part of this community and had every right to know what was going on. She’d broken the chain that had kept her fastened to the kitchen sink and had no intention of putting it on again.

Jimmy was loudly agreeing with everything the speaker said. ‘Hush,’ Renee warned him, grasping hold of her husband’s jacket as he bounced up and down, his bristly brown hair seeming to stand on end. ‘Sit still, Jimmy lad, I can’t hear for your noise.’

‘Sorry.’ He gave her an abstracted kiss and Renee rolled her eyes at Lissa. ‘He gets so worked up.’

Lissa felt heady with the relief of being out of the house, away from Philip’s increasing coldness. She was determined to enjoy herself, feeling young and reckless at her daring.

‘They’re trying to get water on the cheap,’ the speaker told them. ‘So they can sell it to industry at a vast profit.’

Lissa thought this sounded like economic sense but didn’t say as much as there were general murmurs of agreement all round.

‘Winster is one of the finest, most beautiful valleys in Lakeland. It would be appalling if it were flooded. A national outrage.’

Lissa leaned over to whisper in Renee’s ear. ‘Is this threat true?’

‘It looks like more than a rumour this time.’

‘But Winster is beautiful, close to Windermere and in the National Park.’
 

‘Sh!’ Jimmy hissed fiercely at them both, and Lissa apologised to
concentrate on what the speaker had to say.

A feeling of outrage grew inside her as the speaker described Manchester’s needs and how
they
meant to satisfy them. She thought of the beautiful
landscape which she loved: the wild life, the flowers and hedgerows and butterflies, pretty woodlands and character cottages, all to be swamped by water for the needs of faceless industry?

‘We’re aware that the country needs more water.’ Another man was having his say now. ‘But why should our finest countryside be ruined, raped, in
order to get it? They talk of digging tunnels under Longsleddale. Scarring virginal land for all time. Sacrilege! They talk of damming scenically beautiful valleys as if it were of no account. Outrageous!’

Loud cries of agreement.

The speaker went on, ‘The threat to this area is very real but there is also a view held by some that Winster is no more than a stalking horse. We should take care. Manchester Water Board are not fools. They will guess public reaction if they choose to put their reservoir in such a pretty spot. This may be a blind. While we’re all protesting against Winster, they may come up with somewhere else, outside the National Park, which we’ll gladly accept as an alternative.’
 

There was silence in the hall as this new fear was digested. Lissa glanced about at the troubled faces and worried with them. You couldn’t trust anyone in this world. She’d learned that much herself, hadn’t she?

‘They may take good farmland, for instance,’ the speaker pointed out. ‘How would we feel about that? We all know what a precious commodity good farmland is in this area.’
 

The case was put for the Morecambe Barrage scheme, where water could be held in the estuary. Yet another wanted to drill bore holes and another talked at length of how new pumps could be installed at strategic points along the pipe lines to speed up and increase the flow. There were suggestions for flooding disused mines, of piping water from other areas such as the Pennines or Scotland. On one thing only was there complete agreement. It should not be the beautiful Winster valley, or any other valley in the district. Storage reservoirs were out.

Then it was the dubious privilege of the Water Board representative to face the meeting with calming words and promises to listen to every argument. A small man in a grey suit who kept pushing his spectacles up his nose.

‘Is this your lodger?’ Lissa whispered and Renee nodded.

‘Pompous twit!’

To be fair he was listened to, if disagreed with. He explained how they needed an average of 25 million gallons extra a day from Ullswater and about 20 million from Windermere to meet future demand. This was greeted with roars of disapproval. He talked of sympathetic treatment, more meetings, even public enquiries, finally pointing out that no matter what decision they reached, it could take years before it was acted upon.

Jimmy suddenly stood up and waved a fist at him. ‘Don’t matter how long you take, we won’t have you spoiling our dales, nor our meres, not now nor in the future. Lakeland is precious.’
 

‘We’ll bloody make sure you don’t!’ A voice cried from a rowdy group sitting behind.

Cries of ‘hear hear’, and ‘you tell them, Bill’, as the group grew noisier by the minute. Lissa glanced worriedly over her shoulder, troubled by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Bill shouted, ‘Take it from the lake, that’s what I say. At least until they get the national grid going.’
 

This suggestion was met with shouts of disapproval from the boating lobby, Jimmy amongst them, arguing that if they concreted the shoreline it would make it too high and dangerous for swimmers and boaters.

The arguments grew every more raucous as the fishermen too got involved. The water consultant tried to draw the proceedings to a close, saying it had been a ‘useful meeting’, that nothing would be done without Ministerial approval ...

‘What about our approval?’ shouted the man from behind Jimmy’s chair. ‘Do we have no say then?’
 

`You’ll be given your chance at the Public Enquiry.’

‘And when will that be?’
 

‘I really couldn’t say.’
 

`Well, you’d better bloody listen, or you can watch for me one dark night. To hell with the boats and the fish. Leave the dales alone. Use the bloody lake!’

‘Sit down and shut up,’ Jimmy shouted. ‘Swearing does no good.’
 

‘And who’ll make me? You and whose army?’ A fist came out, connected with Jimmy’s jaw, and sent him flying backwards, right into the next row of chairs.

Renee jumped to her feet in terror. ‘ You
bastards
,
’
and turned on his assailant with flying fists and sharp nails.

Pandemonium broke out. Feet and fists and chairs flew everywhere. If Lissa hoped to escape she was soon disillusioned. A whole wave of people swept them forward in their rush to get out of the hall, treading underfoot those not quick enough to keep up.

‘Renee!’ Lissa cried, seeing the top of her friend’s red head swallowed up in the crowd.

‘I’m OK. See to yourself.’
 

 
‘We’ll have a sit-down protest,’ someone yelled. ‘That’ll show them.’
 

Pinned in by a crush of bodies, Lissa couldn’t have resisted if she’d wanted to. She found herself thrust down on to the pavement with the rest of the crowd, bumping her shin and elbow in the process, bringing tears to her eyes and blinding her for a moment. Then there were whistles, and more screams and shouting.

A hand gripped her collar. ‘You can come with me,’ said a grim voice.

Chapter Twenty-One

‘How could you disgrace me in this way?’
 

After an uncomfortable hour in the police station Lissa, Renee and Jimmy, along with a large group of protesters, had been bailed to appear before the magistrates the following morning where they would be bound over to keep the peace. Lissa had rung home and given the bare details to Nanny Sue. Now she was sitting in Philip’s office, the green blind drawn down over the glass so that Miss Henshaw might not peer in and witness his wrath or her misery.

‘I wasn’t thinking of you at the time,’ she very reasonably explained. ‘I was thinking of the issues at hand. Besides, I’d little choice in the matter. Have you any idea of the crush I was in?’
 

‘I can guess. What possessed you to go in the first place?’
 

‘Violet eyes flashed fire. ‘Why shouldn’t I go? Where and how they get the water concerns us all. It is important.’
 

‘You should have been at home, looking after your children. Is that asking too much?’
 

‘I’m sorry, Philip.’
 

He came and stood before her, eyes condemning. ‘I rang to tell you that your grandmother was ill and you weren’t even there to receive the news. It’s typical of you to hurt the old lady, even on the brink of death.’
 

Lissa gasped. ‘That’s not true. I don’t wish her any harm. Anyway, I’m sure she isn’t on the brink of anything. Rosemary Ellis is a consummate actress.’
 

‘And you are a useless mother.’
 

She slapped him. Without a pause she lifted up her hand and slapped him right across the face. It was hard to tell for a moment which of them was the more startled.

‘Don’t ever say anything like that again.’ Her voice so low pitched, filled with such fury he almost backed away. ‘Rosemary Ellis has never done anything for me in my life. Never!’ Tears glimmered unshed in the violet eyes.

A terrible, awesome silence. Then Philip put his arms about her and drew her close, smoothing her hair and patting her back as if she were a small child. ‘Perhaps I did get a little carried away but I was upset and concerned about you. You see how you so easily get involved with the wrong sort of people.’
 

She wanted to protest, to say that Renee and Jimmy were not the wrong sort of people, that they weren’t the ones who’d started the riot, but he wouldn’t be interested.

‘I’ve been too soft with you. Given you your head in too many things.’
 

Lissa gasped. ‘Soft? When, for heaven’s sake? You hate any sign of independence.’
 

He smiled affectionately at her. ‘You don’t need any, you silly girl. You are my wife.’
 

‘I’m not a child bride, Philip. I’m a woman with a mind of my own.’ Heedlessly she ploughed on. ‘I can’t go on like this. You must listen to me. I need my own life.’

But he wasn’t listening. He was wagging a finger at her, issuing a stern reprimand. ‘You should have stayed home where you belong. Haven’t I said so a million times? Don’t I always know what is best for you?’
 

His voice was so coaxing, and his smile so kind, Lissa was almost tempted to agree. It was easier. ‘Perhaps,’ she said.

‘No perhaps about it. I shall have to exercise more discipline, not less, my dear. What would people think if they saw my wife in a protest march?’
 

‘It was hardly that.’
 

He kissed her nose, such a delightful nose. He could feel his arousal starting at her increasing submission as he gently scolded her for her naughtiness, all the while busy with the buttons on her blouse.

His actions filled Lissa with alarm. How could she make any preparations to protect herself here, in his office? And if she got pregnant, how could she ever be free of him? And she must be free. Somehow. ‘Philip, please. Not here. Miss Henshaw might come in at any moment.’
 

‘Not if I lock the door.’
 

She glanced about her, desperately seeking escape. There was none. How to distract him?

‘Philip, there’s something you should know. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time.’
 

The sound of the key turning in the lock made her jump and as he came back to her, slipping off his jacket, hanging it carefully on a coat rack as he did so, he smiled. ‘What is that, my precious?’