‘I'm sorry I'm late,' said Marcus, over an hour after Jo had applied her make-up. 'I got held up.’
He didn't seem sorry but he did seem annoyed. Hm, thought Jo, adding 'moody' to her list of his characteristics.
‘That's fine,' said Jo airily, as if she hadn't spent the previous half-hour agonising about the meat getting cold, the potatoes burnt and the Yorkshire puddings dried to a crisp. After all, it wasn't his fault she'd elected to undertake Sunday-lunch therapy for her own reasons.
She made the introductions and then got everyone to sit down so she could serve. Even while she was pulling dishes of vegetables out of the oven, pouring gravy into a jug and generally getting the meal onto the table, she heard Tom trying to ask Marcus if he could come without actually saying it.
Fortunately for Tom, he seemed to make a good impression on Marcus and they were soon discussing plans for the trip. Dora was joining in womanfully and Jo allowed herself to remain silent. She'd done what she'd set out to do, produced a meal that, even by her high standards was a success, in spite of the waiting around, and everyone was eating enthusiastically.
And then, when the last Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes had been distributed, and Jo was thinking about serving the pudding, Marcus said, 'I know you've said you're coming, Joanna, but I want to know the real reason why you're so reluctant.’
Had she been expecting this question she'd have prepared an answer, but as it came completely out of the blue she had to fall back on the truth.
‘Because I'm terrified. I keep telling people, but no one seems to believe me.’
There was a silence; everyone seemed to have stopped chewing. 'Right,' said Marcus calmly and got up. 'Dora, can you see to whatever needs seeing to? Joanna and I are going for a walk.’
Tom and Dora exchanged glances but kept quiet.
‘But I can't just abandon everything!' Jo said, aware of the tottering heaps of greasy dishes and baking tins that were now piled on every surface.
‘Yes you can,' said Marcus. 'Come.’
She went. She didn't appreciate his commanding tones, but something in his look made her realise it was safer to comply. She told herself it was so she could give him a piece of her mind without an audience. As she went up the steps, Tom and Dora started clearing plates and stacking the dishwasher.
Marcus didn't speak until they were both off the barge and out of the gate.
‘I really don't feel-' said Jo, not at all sure what she did feel.
‘I want to find out why you're so frightened,' said Marcus quietly. 'And then I'm going to put your mind at rest. Tom seems a good lad,' he went on, so Jo couldn't protest any more.
‘Oh yes. He's really keen to come. I hope you'll let him. And Dora, I feel responsible for her.'
‘Is she reasonably calm? Unlikely to get hysterical, able to make a cup of tea?' He was striding purposefullyalong and Jo was having a job keeping up.
Feeling slightly hysterical herself, Jo laughed. 'All that. She and Tom are getting to be a bit of a team.'
‘Are they going out?’
Jo frowned. 'Don't think so. I'm fairly sure they're just friends, but who's to say if they'll stay like that? Where are we going?' she added, borrowing his technique of sudden subject-changing.
‘Just for a walk. We'll go along the river for a bit and then find an unoccupied bench.’
Instead of going in the direction of the pub and shops, he led her in the other direction, crossed a bridge and along a lane until they were on the towpath.
‘Do you often have to talk people round to the idea of going on barge trips?' asked Jo when they could walk side by side.
He laughed and shook his head. 'No. I'm usually telling people they can't come, can't bring their girlfriend, can't sell tickets to all their friends.'
‘People don't do that, do they?'
‘No, but they are keen to see these trips as pleasure jaunts, and while everyone wants to enjoy themselves, having too many people is distracting and dangerous.'
‘You don't want me then, I'm distracting and dangerous.’
She was teasing him and expected him to laugh but he didn't. 'No you're not. Well, not in…' He was looking at her disconcertingly again. 'Anyway, it's not so much that I want you to come because you're a good cook and would keep everyone happy but because I don't want you to be frightened of the sea.'
‘If I didn't come I wouldn't have to be.' Really, he was so hard to read. Philip had always been so transparent she'd got used to knowing what he was about to say and when. Marcus on the other hand was difficult to pin down.
He ignored her comment and took her arm. She had to lengthen her stride again to keep up with him and neither of them spoke until Marcus stopped at what he obviously considered to be a suitable place. It was a bench that looked out over the river. Jo suspected that the trees they were looking at were Tom's island, where his boat lay among the other diverse vessels that rotted and decayed until they merged with the river and the surrounding vegetation.
‘Now,' he said, 'what are you frightened of exactly?’
Jo considered. It was very hard to put irrational fears into words – whatever you said sounded silly and weak-minded. 'I don't know. I think I'm just frightened. I do get seasick, and that doesn't help, and I don't like being on small boats, even ferries, very much. The sea is so big, so endless, so utterly relentless.’
Marcus didn't speak immediately. 'The sea is big, true, but if you think of the little boats and ships that have travelled across it since man hollowed out logs. It's also quite useful.'
‘Useful?' After the huge, expansive language she had used to describe the sea, 'useful' seemed a little niggardly. 'No, really,' she decided to make light of it. 'I can't see that catching on. The Useful Sea, The Wide, Useful Sea, "I must go down to the useful sea, the useful sea and the sky…" ' She misquoted book titles and fragments of poetry, trying to prove what an inappropriate word 'useful' was.
Although he chuckled, he was insistent. 'But it is useful. Rivers are useful. Towns have always sprung up on the banks of rivers. Look at London.' He gestured towards the island, covered in trees and not looking at all like a vast metropolis. 'And think of tides, how useful they are. If I'm dealing with a slightly underpowered craft, I motor fortwelve hours when the tide is with me, and then anchor while it's against me.’
Jo opened her mouth to say that it was different for him but he went on before she could. 'I know millions of people used to drown but not nowadays. The Three Sisters is a very seaworthy little ship. You can't come to any harm in her. I won't let you.’
Unexpectedly, Jo did start to feel calmer at the prospect of setting off across the ocean.
‘I have a lot of experience. I take precautions some people would think are obsessive. I'll have Ed, who's been at sea even longer than I have, with me, and all sorts of kit that wasn't even invented a few years ago. I'll keep you informed of what's happening at all times, and I might even make you steer. I promise to keep you and The Three Sisters entirely safe.’
Jo made a little sound, a sigh of resignation; her fears were going to be wrenched from her whether she liked it or not.
‘So, do you feel better now?' he asked, and Jo detected a slight edge of concern in his voice.
She sighed again and nodded. 'Why did you want to make me feel better? Why didn't you just let me stay at home?’
He smiled. 'Apart from the fact that you might not have anywhere to stay? I don't want you to be frightened of anything, if I can prevent it. And it's important to me that you like boating.'
‘
‘Why? There was a tiny pause. 'I have my reputation to keep up. If it got out that people were refusing to go to sea with me, my reputation would be in pieces.’
Jo couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. Maybe keeping up his reputation was the only reason he wanted her to come to Holland, and her cooking of course. 'But everyone knows I don't own The Three Sisters, that Michael does,' she said.
‘Even so. Michael might ask some awkward questions himself. We don't want him losing faith in me.’
Jo laughed and took the opportunity to change the sub ject. 'I can't remember – were you at university together?’
He shook his head. 'No, we were in the same rowing club. I was studying for my second mate's ticket – exam to you – and he was in his first year at university. We go back a long way.'
‘I can't remember how he and Philip got to know each other.'
‘Is it important? Now?’
Jo bit her lip and shook her head. 'No, not really.’
He took her hand but not in a romantic way, more as if he wanted to stop her running away. 'So, what made you decide to come on the trip, feeling as you do?’
His hand was warm and dry and a little rough. Her own felt small and childlike in its grasp. 'Philip. He knows how frightened I am – was – and said I couldn't possibly cope with it. It's amazing how contra-suggestible I am!’
He laughed. 'I must remember that. So you saw Philip yesterday?'
‘Mm. I went home with Dora to pick up some things. He and Samantha, his new woman, were supposed to stay out of the way but they came back early.' She debated telling him about Dora's debacle with the trousers but decided it wasn't her story.
‘So, what's she like, Philip's new woman?'
‘Oh, I'm sure you can imagine. Young, thin, pregnant.' She hadn't intended to tell Marcus about Samantha's pregnancy, it just came out. She sighed, managing to refrain from adding, 'Everything I never will be again.’
‘Pregnant? That's a bit sudden, isn't it?'
‘I don't know if they planned it.'
‘Hasn't Philip heard of contraception?’
He seemed remarkably indignant about it. 'It's not always a good idea to put off having a baby for ever, you know.’
‘I just think..
‘What?'
‘It's a bit lacking in respect, to start another family so soon after leaving you.’
Jo didn't respond immediately. 'I don't suppose they thought about that.'
‘Well, they should have done.' He got to his feet and pulled her up. 'Did you make a pudding?’
Surprise made her laugh. 'Of course. I'm a nurturer and provider. Puddings are what I do.'
‘I don't think they're all that you do, Joanna, but shall we go back?’
Jo was relieved their conversation was over. All this talk of Philip and her old, beloved house, not to mention the way Marcus kept looking at her, had made her feel rather unsettled.
Their timing was perfect. All the detritus of the meal had been cleared away or washed up and the crumble sat in the middle of the table surrounded by bowls and spoons. There was also a jug of custard.
‘Oh Dora,' said Jo. 'You've made custard!'
‘I made the custard,' said Tom. 'I'm good at it.'
‘So, where do you think you'll go into Holland from?’
asked Tom when everyone was happily eating again. ' Flushing, probably,' said Marcus. 'You can go into the system sooner, but that's the way I know best.'
‘And how many people will you need?' Tom went on, possibly needing his place on the trip to be confirmed.
‘Four good reliable ones. Me and you, my mate Ed, Dora and Joanna.’
Tom smiled with relief.
‘That's five,' said Jo quickly.
‘I don't mind if I don't come,' said Dora, suddenly aware that she did mind.
‘I'm not going without Dora,' said Jo. 'Although she could be the cook and I could stay at home.’
Dora was about to protest loudly when Marcus did it for her. 'You're both coming,' he stated. 'Will there be enough accommodation? I can't remember.'
‘Thank God you cleared out the forepeak,' said Jo aware that she was at last feeling an inkling of excitement. Perhaps this trip would be fun after all.
‘Think so,' said Tom, obviously doing the sums. 'Two people in the forepeak, one in the glory hole, when we finish clearing it out. Dora's got her cabin -'
‘Except Jo will need it, if Marcus is sleeping in hers,' said Dora.
‘I can sleep in the glory hole,' said Jo.
‘Will the person you're bringing – Ed – mind sharing?' she asked.
‘Ed? No, he's very easygoing,' said Marcus. 'Is the glory hole fit for Joanna to sleep in?'
‘It will be,' said Dora quickly. 'And anyway, I'll sleep in it. Jo can have my cabin. It's larger.'
‘I know I've put on a few pounds since I was seventeen, but I don't need a double bunk all to myself. Even if Marcus does,' she added.
‘Who said anything about needing it all for myself?' he said.
Jo started gathering plates, not sure if he was flirting with her or not. Then she saw a couple of disappointed faces. 'Oh, did you want more crumble?'
‘Shall I make coffee?' asked Tom a moment later after Jo had served seconds. He was obviously dying to get the meal over and the table cleared so real plans could be made. 'Then we can discuss what's happening.'
‘Black, two sugars, please,' said Marcus, throwing his spoon into his empty bowl. 'That really was excellent.'
‘I won't be doing roast dinners while we're going along,' said Jo. 'I'd be terrified of hot fat spilling all over me.'
‘Really, Joanna, we're not going out into the Atlantic, there won't be a lot of movement most of the time. Still, I agree, meals like this are better kept for when we're in port.'
‘I've always wanted to make this sort of passage,' said Tom. 'Shall I find some paper?'
‘There's a pad in the desk, Tom,' said Jo.
‘Right.' Everyone hastily sat down again so they could listen to Marcus.
‘When we do set off, we'll leave about two hours before high water at London Bridge then we'll get maximum benefit from the ebb tide.' He looked at Jo and smiled. 'But this barge isn't underpowered. I just don't like wasting fuel. It's bad for morale too, bashing against the tide.’
Dora made a mental note to grill Tom about all this afterwards. Although she'd picked up a fair bit about boat-building and repairs since she'd been working at the boatyard, she only knew about tides when they affected her getting to or from work.
‘We'll probably stop for the night at somewhere like Queenborough, near Sheerness,' Marcus went on.
‘Why stop?' asked Tom. 'With plenty of us, we could just carry on overnight, couldn't we?'
‘We could, but we wouldn't cover much distance. Better to have a good night's sleep and set off early the next day.’
‘How long will it take to get to the dry dock?' asked Jo.
‘It's about sixteen hours from Queenborough to Flushing and about another twelve hours from there to Dordrecht.'
‘Right,' said Jo, trying not to sound daunted. 'I must say, I'm relieved we don't have to travel at night.'
‘Although in some ways navigation is easier at night than in the day,' said Tom. 'You can tell where you are better, from the light buoys.’
Marcus glanced at Jo. 'Don't worry, we've got lots of bits of kit that will tell us where we are, even in daytime.' Jo managed a feeble laugh.
‘OK.' Marcus carried on telling them his plans. 'Then, if weather permits-'
‘What's the maximum force you'd go out in?' asked Tom, who had his own bit of paper and was making notes like mad.
‘Force four, maximum. Ideally we'd set off during a settled period of high pressure.'
‘What about fog?' asked Jo.
‘If there's fog, we won't go. Right – any more questions?’
Dora resisted the temptation to put up her hand before asking, 'What are we all going to do while we're in dry dock?'
‘Go home, if you've any sense. Dry docks are not fun places to be, although-' He glanced at Jo, and seemed about to say something but then stopped.
‘So we'll come back and get her when she's ready to come out?' asked Tom.
‘You can if you like, but Michael might come over and give Ed and me a hand.' He paused. 'Anything else? Joanna?'
‘No, I think that covers it.' Jo sighed and then smiled. Although she felt a lot better since her talk with Marcus, she wasn't completely cured of her phobia.
He smiled back at her, as if reading her thoughts. 'It'll befine, Joanna, really it will. Now, I need to have a good poke around so I'm going to put on my boiler suit and get going.' Marcus got up from the table.
When he had gone up to the wheelhouse, where he had presumably left his boiler suit, Dora said, 'Now, you have a rest, Jo. Lie down and shut your eyes while we finish clearing up.' Dora had noticed that Jo liked to doze for twenty minutes or so and obviously felt she deserved to even more today.
‘I couldn't relax with Marcus here,' she said. 'He might want to ask me things.'
‘But you won't know the answer!' Dora's honesty was brutal. 'If you can't chill here, go and see Tilly. If Marcus really needs you, I'll shout across or come and get you.'
‘I'd come with you if I could get away,' said Tilly, handing Jo a tall glass full of ice cubes and fizzy water. 'But some of us have to work for a living.'
‘I have to work for a living!' Jo was already nervy from having this whole trip to Holland made horribly real. 'I'm restoring some bits and pieces for Miranda. Did you meet Miranda and Bill? On Hepplewhite?'
‘Think so. They've got an antique shop, haven't they?'
‘Well, Miranda part owns it, but she said if I can learn to restore little collectables it would be really useful for them. And good for me, too.'
‘I know it's too late for you, Jo, but I would never give up my ability to earn my own living.’
Tilly, Jo remembered now, was a high-powered manage ment consultant who appeared to work smart not hard. Jo sighed. 'The trouble is, I didn't have much ability to earn money. I always had jobs, not a career. All I wanted were babies, really.'
‘And you've just got the one daughter?'
‘That's right. Karen. I'm terribly proud of her! I've just posted her fork-lift truck driving certificate to her; she needs it in Canada.'
‘Oh wow. She's got skills, then!’
Jo laughed. 'Oh yes, she's quite different from me.' Dora appeared on the pontoon.
‘Oh, come aboard,' said Tilly. 'Have a spritzer.’
Dora took a moment to wonder if people on boats really drank more than their shore-side equivalents, or if it just seemed that way. 'Better not. I'm in the middle of a job. Jo, Marcus wants to know when you last had the fuel barge round.'
‘The fuel barge?' Jo's brow wrinkled in thought.
‘Yes,' said Tilly. 'To fill you up with diesel. It hasn't been round for months, Dora.'
‘Why does Marcus want to know?' Jo sounded agitated and put on the spot.
‘He wants to know how much fuel is left in the tanks.'
‘I've been as economical as I can,' said Jo. 'I turned off the central heating as soon as possible. There should be plenty left because the tanks were nearly full when I arrived. Michael told me.'
‘Oh.'
‘Oh? Isn't that good news?'
‘I don't think so. Marcus wants to drain the tanks.’
Jo drained her glass and reluctantly got up. A 'rest' had been too much to ask for, obviously. 'I'd better come. I can't relax over here when God knows what is going on over there.’
Tom and Marcus were in the engine room. Marcus was wearing his boiler suit, and Tom a lot of grease. Jo and Dora peered down the hatch at them.
‘What's the problem?' asked Jo. 'There should be plenty of fuel. I've used as little as possible.'
‘That's the problem,' said Marcus. 'Whatever Michael says about them being clean, I want to check for myself. That means we have to drain the tanks.'
‘What, now?' Jo felt that reality was slipping away. 'It's six o'clock on a Sunday evening.'
‘If I can drain the tanks I can see if they need cleaning.
Tom's undertaken to do that for me if it's necessary.’
‘What, now?' Jo said again, obviously still aghast.
‘Well, no,' said Marcus. 'Over the next few days. When is the fuel barge due to come again?’
Jo opened the wheelhouse door and yelled across to Tilly, who, fortunately, was still relaxing on deck. 'When's the fuel barge due next?'
‘You'll have to book it. If several people need diesel, it'll come. Otherwise you have to go round to it. Or you could go on to the river. Lots of barges need filling up there. The fuel barge goes up and down all the time.’
Jo came back inside. 'Fine.' The time had come for Marcus's attempts to cure her of her terror to be tested.
‘OK!' Marcus called up. 'I've found the gauging stick.' There was a tense silence while Jo and Dora imagined having to take the barge out on to the rolling Thames, which, in their minds, was enduring a hurricane at the time.
‘There's not too much in there, but I want it all out.' This was directed at Tom. 'Is there a pump? Oh yes. Now, is there something we can empty it into?’
Marcus had stopped asking Jo questions and was concentrating on Tom.
‘Don't think so, not on the barge, but my mate's got oil drums. I could borrow a couple.'
‘Now?'
‘Pretty much. I'll go and ask.'
‘You'll need a hand to get them back.’
There was a silence. Jo and Dora were listening from the wheelhouse, both tense.
‘I'll get my mates to come back with me. I don't want to take Dora,' he added in a lower voice.
In the wheelhouse, Jo and Dora exchanged relieved glances. Jo was relieved that Dora wasn't going to leave her with Marcus, and Dora because she didn't want to walk miles with an oil drum clutched to her chest – and also because she was a bit nervous of Tom's mates. They were definitely scary to a nice middle-class girl from the Home Counties.
Tom emerged from the engine room. 'I'm going to-’
‘We know,' chorused Jo and Dora. 'We heard.'
‘Oh. I'll be off then.’
He was halfway down the pontoon when Dora suddenly called after him. 'Wait! I'll give you a hand.’
As she hurried to catch him up she wondered why and realised that being a nice girl from the Home Counties was quite a boring thing to be, and that she wanted to stretch her boundaries a bit.
Marcus joined Jo in the wheelhouse. 'He's a good lad, that Tom. He has initiative.'
‘He'd be thrilled to hear you say that. He's so keen to come with us to Holland.'
‘And how do you feel about it now?'
‘Better, but I won't know if I'm frightened until we actually set off. Do you want to sit down?'
‘Have you got a newspaper or something for me to sit on? I might be a bit oily.’
Jo instantly produced a newspaper from under one of the cushions, glad for once that she hadn't got round to recycling recently. 'So, what's the plan?'
‘I'll help Tom pump out the tanks, to see what they're like, and then he said he'll clean them out over the comingweek. I'll be back next weekend and we'll go to the fuel barge and refuel.'
‘But if you pump out all the fuel, how will you get to the fuel barge?'
‘We'll filter enough from what we pump out to get us there.' He hesitated. 'It's very messy, Joanna.'
‘Why do you insist on calling me Joanna?'
‘Because it's your name, and I like it.'
‘Oh.' Jo considered for a minute and decided she liked it too. On the other hand, she would never get people to stop calling her Jo, not now.
‘But what about the mess?' Marcus went on. 'Diesel gets everywhere and it's horrible stuff. We'll need to make sure we've got loads of rags, newspaper, kitchen towel, things like that.'
‘There's quite a large bundle of rags that. I purloined from the engine room so Dora and Tom could clean out the forepeak.'
‘Newspapers?’
Jo patted her seat. 'Several under here, and there's a recycling section for them with the other bins. We could raid that.' Jo looked at her watch. 'Won't all this make you late back?’
He looked at his watch too. 'A bit, I suppose.'
‘Does Carole worry? It must be hard for her.'
‘How do you mean?' Marcus shifted on his newspaper. 'Well, if you're away a lot, taking random boats about the place. I'd worry.'
‘To please you then, I'll ring Carole.’
To prevent herself wondering too much why he should want to please her, Jo went down to the main cabin and put the kettle on.
‘She's fine,' he said a little later, as Jo was making tea. 'She and I'll set off first thing tomorrow. We've got a few days to get back in, so there's no need for her to fret.’
‘I thought you were going back down the Thames when you came before.’
He looked enigmatic and to Jo, maddening. She'd have to give up trying to work him out – it was quite clearly a lost cause. 'We were but we didn't. And Carole doesn't mind either way.’
She wasn't going to ask him why. 'I wasn't being critical, only saying how I'd feel. Did you want tea? You don't have to drink it if you don't want to.'
‘No, I do want tea.' He took a sip from the mug Jo handed to him. She sipped her own. There was a slightly awkward pause.
‘Did I not manage to convince you that you're not going to drown?' he asked after a few moments.
‘Oh yes! Well, nearly.'
‘So why are you looking so anxious?'
‘Am I?' Jo tried to assume a calm expression but only partially managed it. He seemed to have an unsettling effect on her.
‘Yes.'
‘Oh, well – life in general can be a bit anxious-making. More tea?'
‘Changing the subject?'
‘Yup!'
‘Why?'
‘You're very…' She searched for the word. 'Inter rogatory.'
‘Tell me what makes you worry.'
‘And demanding.' She kept trying to lighten the mood, but he wouldn't co-operate.
His expression was as demanding as his words. She sighed, and gave in. 'OK, it's because I don't know if I can earn my own living.' She decided to go for the part truth. Itwas easier. 'I haven't done for many years and although I have restored some things for Miranda to put in her shop, I don't know if there's a living in that. Philip has been very generous, but his girlfriend is pregnant. Things will change. Michael will want his barge back eventually and then I'll be homeless.'
‘You could live on another barge.'
‘They don't cost nothing, and it's difficult to get a mortgage or a loan for them.'
‘Philip could increase the mortgage on your old home.
He owes you half the value of the house, at least.’
‘Does he? Really that much? After all, he paid for it.’
‘I'm sure you made a contribution,' he said matter-of- factly.
‘Oh yes. I made it the house it is now – or really, the house it was when I left. But it wasn't a financial contribution. Isn't that what counts?'
‘I don't think so, but you should see a solicitor, find out the facts.’
Jo smiled and shook her head slightly. 'It's all right, you don't have to offer solutions. It's a very male thing to do, I know, but I'm only moaning, really. And I certainly don't expect you to be able to solve my problems.'
‘I want to solve them.’
Fortunately for Jo's peace of mind, they heard footsteps on the pontoon and then the sound of something landing on the cabin roof.
‘They were quick,' said Marcus.
‘Tom lives quite near. He has a boat. I expect his mate has a boat in the same place. But it's really handy that he happened to have oil drums, isn't it?’