Wishing Water Read Online Free Page A

held out her hand, remembering her manners. ‘Good afternoon…’ she began, smiling politely, and stopped. How to address this woman whom she knew to be her grandmother but had never been acknowledged as such? She bit on her lower lip and waited. The rose-coloured light flickered across the thin, unsmiling face, showing up the whiskers on her chin.
    Ignoring the small outstretched hand, Rosemary Ellis turned away, leaving Lissa feeling foolish, forced to retreat to Meg’s side.
    ‘Pray be seated.’ A regal gesture indicated a roomy sofa. It too was so swathed in paisley shawls, arm shields, antimacassars and cushions, so that Lissa dared hardly sit upon it for fear of disturbing the arrangement. ‘Amy, tea, if you please. For our guests.’  
    ‘Very good, madam.’ Amy quietly withdrew, closing the double mahogany doors as she went.
    Meg whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t put your dirty shoes on the rug, it’s Persian, and very valuable.’
    Lissa sat gingerly next to Meg, trying to tuck them out of the way, which wasn’t easy. She fixed her eyes upon a display of dried leaves in a copper bowl that sat incongruously upon an upturned seed box in the wide, marble hearth. A spider hung from a thread on one leaf and Lissa watched it, fascinated.
    They sat in silence in the cold room for what seemed an eternity. Somewhere a clock chimed and she counted out three strokes. Lissa’s back started to ache and her legs to fidget. Meg cast her a warning glance, then clearing her throat, turned to Mrs Ellis with a smile.
    ‘I trust you are keeping well? I haven’t seen Jeffrey... Mr Ellis for some time. How is he?’  
    ‘Much the same. Never goes out these days.’
    ‘Might we see him?’  
    ‘I do not think that would be wise.’  
    It was a relief when the double doors opened again and Amy wheeled in the tea on a clattering tea trolley that had seen better days. Meg touched Lissa’s hand. ‘Go and help Mrs Stanton serve the tea, sweetheart.’ But as Lissa rose to do so, a stern voice bade her remain where she was.
    ‘I hope we have better manners here at Larkrigg than to permit guests to serve themselves.’ Lissa sat down again, accepting the china cup and saucer with the first flutter of nervousness. Misery was sharp within her. This was not at all how she’d imagined her first meeting with her grandmother would be. She had so longed to see her, and the inside of the old house where her mother had lived as a girl.
    It confused and intrigued her to think that a member of her own family, whom she didn’t even know, lived behind these grey stone walls. Now here she was at last, and nothing was as she had hoped. Perhaps Lissa hadn’t quite expected words of love. But a smile, a word of welcome would have warmed her. There was none.
    The only consolation was that through the tall, trefoiled windows she could see the friendly mountains that she loved so much, their dark faces streaked with snow filled gullies for spring had been late this year. The house stood so grandly on its ridge that its face looked beyond Larkrigg Fell to the majesty of Kentmere Pike with the dark sentinel of Dundale Knot closer to hand.
    Perversely Lissa wished herself out amongst them, where she might find the peace and sanctuary they offered; instead of here, where she felt an outcast. Unwanted.
    She realised with a startled jerk that Rosemary Ellis was addressing her with some question and she had missed it. In horror, Lissa glanced at Meg for help who, sensing her predicament, attempted to breach the gap.
    ‘Lissa attends the High School. She goes into Kendal each day by bus.’  
    ‘The High School?’ The words were spoken with contempt, as if the idea were unthinkable. ‘How very utilitarian.’  
    ‘It’s a very good school as a matter of fact.’  
    ‘Katherine was educated privately. Only the very best of everything, naturally. Still, a local establishment is probably more appropriate in the circumstances.’ Rosemary