Wild Lily Read Free Page B

shore to be connected by a rickety wooden bridge. Lily and Squashy used the bridge, although Lily always thought it would be very romantic to arrive by boat from the open lake, through the tunnel. The lake was supplied with various boats, kept near the house, which the boys used to lark about in, but it was forbidden to go to the grotto. ‘Dangerous!’ they all said on the estate. ‘Horrible!’ ‘Do not go there!’
    Of course they went. Antony knew where the key to the iron grille was kept, and once he had taken them right in there – but all Lily remembered was the awful smell of the underground, the enfolding chill like wings of death, the frightening echo of dropping water, the terrifying dark and Antony’s scornful laugh ricocheting off distant walls. There had been narrow passages going off in all directions, lit only by Antony’sfeeble torch. She had been petrified but, as ever, determined not to show weakness in front of Antony, her hero.
    Going to the landing, as they did now, was nice, turning their backs on the grim cave mouth, sitting on the warm stones and dangling their feet in the water. Summer was coming and the water was warm.
    ‘Fancy Antony buying an aeroplane,’ Lily said. ‘I wouldn’t half like a go in it.’
    ‘I don’t want to go,’ Squashy said.
    ‘He’ll take the others. I doubt he’ll take me.’
    Lily had no illusions as to where she stood in the group that made up Antony’s gang: she was only a girl, after all. But she strung along, in spite of the insults, because she loved Antony and wanted to be with him for ever. She adored him. Everything about him: the way he spoke, (Etonian), the way he moved (like a mountain goat, bold and free), the way he looked (like a Greek god), the way he laughed (loudly), the way he swam (like an otter), the way he regarded her (kindly enough). When they were alone together he was really nice; when the others were around he mostly ignored her, but did not send her away. When she told him that she loved him he laughed and said he loved someone else.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Melanie Marsden. I love Melanie Marsden.’
    ‘Oh really, Antony.’ What a disappointment! Mostly for his taste. Lily knew she was worth six of Melanie Marsden. ‘You’ll grow out of it,’ she said.
    ‘So will you then.’
    ‘No. Not me, not ever, not till the day I die.’
    ‘Blimey. That’s a bit thick. What am I supposed to do?’
    ‘Nothing, really. But later on we can get married.’
    ‘I’m not sure about that. I’ve got to marry someone posh.’
    ‘Who says so?’
    ‘My dad would, if you asked him.’
    ‘I won’t ask him. You can make up your own mind when you’re older, surely?’
    ‘I daresay. Melanie Marsden.’
    Lily hit him and they had a fight until Squashy started to cry and attacked Antony with a spade.
    ‘Oh hush, Squashy. It’s only for fun.’ She hugged him. ‘It’s not real.’
    But when she lay in bed at night she thought about it and knew it was for real. Antony could scoff as much as he liked but it made no difference. She was born with it. Whoever he might choose to love Lily would always love him better.
    As she sat now with Squashy, kicking her feet in the water, she laughed, thinking of Antony arriving out of the sky in an aeroplane. How gloriously rich the Sylvesters were! Mr Sylvester went up to London in his white Rolls and saw politicians and investors and bankers and likewise men of power and fame, and obviously he acquired enormous amounts of money – but what for, nobody knew. If they knew they probably wouldn’t understand! Antony himself had no idea how it came about. He took it for granted, being rich enough to have an aeroplane for his birthday.
    Lily knew only too well the gulf that separated her fromAntony. He had never been inside her home, just as she had never been inside his, save for a few steps into the kitchen, to deliver flowers. Her home was a small cottage, built for the master workers. Most of the workers lived in