38252.fb2 Going Dutch - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 16

Going Dutch - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 16

Chapter Fourteen

Tom and Dora were standing next to a large green container that looked to Jo like a water butt.

‘What's that?' asked Marcus.

‘It used to hold lemon juice, apparently.’

Marcus appeared unimpressed. 'It's a bit bulky and hard I to handle.'

‘Absolutely! We've just handled it from the island and it was jolly hard,' said Dora, meaning a tougher word than 'jolly'.

‘Not ideal,' said Marcus.

‘But it's all we've got. And it's Sunday night. Beggars can't be choosers.' Dora wouldn't normally have been so outspoken but the container had been very difficult to manipulate.

‘It won't melt if we put diesel in it, will it?' asked Jo. 'Probably not. We'll have to try and see.'

‘But will we get that huge thing down into the engine room?' asked Jo, not wanting to disparage Tom and Dora's efforts but expressing her doubts anyway.

‘Let's try,' said Tom, obviously a bit fed up with this lack of enthusiasm.

The two women stood on the deck and let the men wrangle the huge tub into the wheelhouse, through the narrow door, and down into the pit of the engine room.

‘How will they get it down the ladder?' asked Dora.

‘Just drop it, I expect.’

‘They'll never get it back up again, not full.'

‘I think the plan is to filter some and put it back, using the pump.' She sighed.

‘Are you still dreading the trip, Jo?'

‘Actually no, not really. Marcus talked me out of my fears a bit, and while I can't see myself wanting to go round the world in a boat, I don't feel quite so hysterical about it.'

‘He's much less scary than he seemed at first, isn't he? Less Alpha Male.’

Jo laughed. 'I think our opinion was formed by what other people said about him. Always foolish. Let's go down and make a cup of tea. Marcus and Tom seem to be getting on OK. He's such a nice boy.'

‘Huh! You should see his friends! They're the kind of dropouts from society I should have brought home to my mother! That would have taught her!'

‘When did you last speak to your mother, Dora?’

‘Not for ages. I sent her an email about the job.'

‘Why don't you ring her now?' Jo suggested. She didn't want to boss Dora, but she knew Dora missed her parents, despite what had happened between them all.

They'd reached the saloon now and Dora crossed it to put on the kettle. 'Because… she'll have a go at me. Or put Dad on the phone. Something.'

‘Wouldn't you like to talk to her?'

‘I'd like us to be able to be more normal with each other, but I really don't want to have the conversation. She'll expect me to apologise.' She turned to Jo. 'I am truly sorry about all the upset I've caused; I couldn't be more so. But I'm not sorry I pulled out of the wedding. I don't think she'll see it like that though.'

‘These things don't happen by magic. You'll have to give your mother a chance to see things from your point of view,' said Jo, reaching for the tea bags and assorted mugs.

‘1 know.' Dora picked up a cloth and began wiping the perfectly clean counter.

‘And if your mother won't ring you, you have to ring her. You're both adults, even if one of you did give birth to the other.'

‘But I don't know how she feels about me. She was so cross and disappointed.'

‘I'm sure she feels she'd like to have contact with her daughter,' said Jo gently. 'You're an only child, remember. I would hate it if Karen and I weren't speaking. I couldn't bear it, in fact.'

‘But you and Karen, you have quite a different relationship.’

Jo laughed. 'You mean she bosses me about and not the other way around?'

‘Well, yes..

‘I found out very early on which of us was the stronger character, but she never took advantage of my weakness.'

‘No, I remember her saying that she couldn't do anything that would worry you because you were so soft.’

Jo sighed. 'I used to worry so much that I was such a pushover, and yet I couldn't be a different sort of mother. I don't think one can.'

‘But Karen's done very well,' Dora insisted.

‘I know, I'm terribly proud of her. But even if she was living in a squat, living off social security, as I imagine some of Tom's friends do, I'd still really love her and want to keep in touch.'

‘I suppose so,' said Dora, reluctantly conceding that Jo had a point.

‘Your mother loves you just as much. Give her a ring. After all, if we're all going to drown on this trip to Holland, it would be nice if you two were friends again.'

‘Oh all right.' Dora rinsed out the cloth and dried her hands. 'I give in. I'll go and give her a ring. It'll give me something to do while the boys are playing with pumps and diesel and things.'

‘I wouldn't describe Marcus as a boy, exactly,' said Jo, but Dora had already disappeared into her cabin to find her phone.

‘We need some kitchen towel,' said Tom, landing in the cabin looking flushed and as if he was in his element. 'The pump's working fine now, but quite a bit got spilt at the beginning.’

Jo handed him a new roll, making a mental note to buy it in bulk before the trip to Holland. 'What about newspapers?'

‘I'm going to ask Dora if she'll raid the paper bank by the bins.'

‘She's phoning her mother. I'll ask her when she gets off and we can go together.'

‘Oh. Fine.’

When Tom had disappeared, Jo reflected that the person she most wanted just at the moment was her own daughter. Karen wasn't nearly so law-abiding and would manage to break into a recycling bin without a glimmer of guilt or doubt. She switched on her laptop and banged out a quick email.

It's all hell here! Marcus (old friend of Michael's – and me. Dad knew him too, years ago) is draining diesel into a lemon-juice barrel and I've got to get newspapers to mop up the spills. Wish you were here!!!! Love, Mum Dora emerged holding her phone. She looked as if she'd been crying, but basically happy. She came up to Jo and gave her a hug. 'You're so wise! We had a good chat and I feel so much better now. I'm not going home, though,' she added.

‘Did your mother ask you to?'

‘Yes, but I explained that I'd started a new life and would come home for a weekend or something soon, but not for good.'

‘How did she take that?'

‘Well, she obviously didn't like it, but she had to accept it. I'm a grown-up now!' Dora grinned. 'Let's go and play!'

‘Well, I think I'm satisfied that the tanks are clean,' said Marcus when Dora and Jo appeared. 'I'd better be getting back. Carole will be wondering what's happened to me.'

‘I feel awful!' said Jo. 'I should have thrown you out ages ago.'

‘I'm responsible for myself,' he said. 'You don't have to monitor my comings and goings.'

‘No, I suppose not. For a moment there I thought that you and Tom were friends of Karen's who I'd allowed to stay far later than their parents would have.' Jo's thoughts were full of mothers because she and Dora had been discussing hers. 'Have you decided on a date yet?'

‘There's still quite a bit more planning to do, and then we can't really decide on a date until we know what the weather's likely to do.'

‘Oh. I was just thinking, Dora will have to arrange to take holiday. She'll need to give some notice. And you, too, Tom.'

‘Oh, Fred'll understand,' said Tom glibly.

‘I hope so,' said Dora. 'I don't want to let them down.’

*

Dora chose her moment to ask Fred about taking some holiday. She had tackled a particularly large batch of filing, and now this was out of the way, there was a spare chair in the office. He was sitting on this, at the end of the day, when she brought up the subject.

‘Fred, I know I haven't worked here very long-’

‘You're not thinking of leaving are you, Dora?' His face was a picture of shock and disappointment.

‘No, no! Of course not. I love it here. I was just going to ask if I could have a bit of holiday.' Her voice tailed away, unwilling to cast Fred into a further state of gloom.

‘ Holiday! Of course, everyone's entitled to some holiday.' He didn't sound particularly thrilled by this accepted truth though.

‘I wouldn't if I could get out of it, but I have to go for Jo's sake.'

‘Go where?'

‘Go to Holland on The Three Sisters.'

You want to go on a barge trip? Dora nodded. 'Well, not so much want as need. Although I suppose I do want to go.'

‘Has this got anything to do with young Tom?’

‘Well..

‘I can't think of anyone going anywhere and him not trying to get himself a berth.’

Dora laughed. 'Yes, he is coming. He's really keen. And apparently The Three Sisters has to go to Holland for dry docking.'

‘Ah,' said Fred knowledgably, 'you'll be wanting grit blasting. We'd do it here if it wasn't for the noise pollution.’

‘So is it all right? Can I go?'

‘Of course. I said.'

‘The trouble is, I'm not exactly sure when and for how long. We have to wait for the right weather and things.’

Fred sighed. 'That's all right. I know how it is with these trips. Very difficult to make definite plans. You never know what you're going to find when you're in dry dock, and if the weather turns nasty, you're stormbound on the other side of the North Sea.’

Dora didn't want to think about being stormbound and changed the subject to something she knew about. 'Will you organise cover? Someone to do my job while I'm away?' She really hoped not. She didn't want to think of a Tipp-Ex-tipped temp, a clone of the woman who had interviewed her, messing about in her newly set-up systems.

‘Far too expensive, but don't you worry. You've done so much since you've been here,' he said. 'And we didn't have anyone for ages. We'll manage. And I'll tell you what, if that lady you're staying with -'

‘Jo.'

‘That's right. If there's anything we can do to help before she sets off, just let us know.'

‘Oh, that's so kind!' Dora had flung her arms round his neck before she remembered that he probably wasn't used to hugging, but having got that far it was hard to back off. 'Sorry. I thought you were my dad for a moment.'

‘That's all right.' Fred patted her arm in a fatherly way. 'I reckon you should go home for a visit before too long.’

As Jo had said much the same thing, when they were making hot chocolate one evening, Dora sighed. 'I know. But there's so much to do before this trip to Holland.'

‘I'll give you the day off, if you need it. So when roughly are you going?'

‘We're getting everything ready then Marcus is going to look for a spell of settled weather in the middle of June.'

‘Oh, yes.' Fred's faith in weather forecasts was obviously not huge.

‘Apparently you can get a six-day prediction. Marcus says.’

Fred sighed at the folly of youth and then said, 'Takeyoung Tom with you to meet your parents. He needs some civilised company. He mixes with those dropouts all the time.'

‘Have you got children, Fred?’

He nodded. 'Grandchildren, too.' He smiled nostal gically. 'They really are grand. I miss them. My two eldest boys live abroad and we don't see as much of them as we'd like. You don't like to think your grandchildren are growing up, and you not there to see it.'

‘OK! I'll go! And I'll drag Tom along too, if I can. Now could you be a love and put up this new noticeboard? I want it to be absolutely impossible to forget a single bill while I'm away.’

Fred grumbled off to get his tool kit. 'You'll only be away a few days. They could wait!’

*

Jo wished she'd warned Miranda she was planning to visit her shop just after she'd found somewhere to park her car and was walking down the pretty high street. When she'd set off her plan had been to check out the shop before she went in, to see if what she'd done was of the quality required. Now that felt stupid and she didn't want to fall back on the old, I-was-just-passing-so-I thought-I'd-call-in lie, because where could she possibly be going to? She saw the shop from across the road. It looked, even from a way away and through traffic, decidedly upmarket. Miranda had obviously just been being kind when she suggested she could possibly restore things that were good enough to sell there. Still, she might as well put herself out of her misery. She could go and see Miranda, or Miranda's partner, show her stuff, then take it away again and go shopping instead.

Procrastinating desperately, she took time to cross the road. But at last, in spite of all her efforts, she found herself outside the shop. The windows were screened off from the rest of the shop and while what was displayed was extremely attractive, it meant that Jo could only see the choice pieces on display.

On one side a blue-painted dresser held a collection of creamware. Jo looked for a while and decided that her favourite was like a little openwork basket, only made of china. Someone had filled it with redcurrants and the splash of scarlet, in among the white dishes and jugs with the blue background, looked like a work of art.

In the other window was a complete contrast. Here quantities of old painted sweet tins, tea caddies and biscuit tins, a glorious range of rich colours and intricate patterns, filled a table. Behind these was an old storage jar filled with cow-parsley. Jo gave a little sigh of ecstasy. It was definitely her sort of shop. Some of her anxiety faded. She opened the door and went in.

It took her a moment or two to recognise the elegantly suited woman who was coming towards her with out stretched hands. Miranda looked so different from the woman who drank large quantities of wine and Pimm's and wore linen slacks and faded shirts.

Different or not, she hugged Jo warmly. 'Jo! Why didn't you say you were coming? We could have gone out for lunch. As it is I'm stuck here.’

Jo returned the hug with equal warmth, taking strength and comfort from Miranda's firm embrace. 'I came on the off chance you'd be here. Things are quite busy on the barge and I wasn't sure when I could get away.'

‘Well, it's lovely you're here. So, The Three Sisters is going to Holland?'

‘How on earth do you know that?'

‘Word gets around. Come and have some coffee or something and tell me all.' She noticed the bag Jo was carrying. 'Is that what I think it is?’

Jo nodded. 'I'm really not sure if I've done a good enough job, Miranda. Your shop is so full of lovely things.' She put the bag down by the desk where Miranda had been sitting. 'Can we have the coffee before I show you?'

‘I'll put the kettle on. Have a look round!’

Jo looked, exclaiming, either to herself or out loud, at the plethora of items which ranged from the dainty, the quirky, the sweetly pretty to the kitsch, with all styles in between.

Unsurprisingly to Jo there was a section of model boats of all kinds. There was a paddle steamer, its hull brightly painted in black and red, various yachts, obviously designed to be sailed on village ponds, and a scale model of the Queen Mary. The star of the selection, to Jo's eyes, was a diorama in a glass case depicting some ancient drama involving a two-masted ship, a paddle-steamer and two little dinghies. Quite why all those vessels were in the same place at the same time was not explained.

Around the boats were various related items: carved whales' teeth, a ship in a bottle, a selection of telescopes, sextants, shackles and other mystifying bits of tackle.

Everywhere Jo looked were lovely things. In the corner was a rocking horse, dapple grey with a flowing mane and a real, tiny saddle.

‘I love this shop,' said Jo. 'It's heaven encapsulated in prime real estate.’

Miranda laughed as she edged the tray on to the desk, pushing aside a pile of papers as she did so. 'I'm so glad you like it. I have to confess to being quite fond of it myself. Have a seat.’

Jo pulled out a little chair she faintly recognised as being Art Nouveau.

‘I'm hoping I'll find a couple more of those chairs, to make up a set,' said Miranda, pouring coffee, 'but until I do, it might as well be useful.'

‘What was it William Morris said? "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful"?'

‘I think that's right. Have a biscuit.'

‘This is so civilised. I've spent too much time worrying about fuel tanks and navigation lights recently.' Jo bit into her shortbread with a hedonistic sigh.

‘You shouldn't be worrying about things like that, surely? I thought Marcus was in charge.'

‘Well yes, he is, and he's obviously very efficient, but it all goes on at my house, so to speak. Although The Three Sisters is not my house, really.’

Miranda sipped her coffee and regarded her friend. 'You went back home?’

Jo nodded. 'How did you guess?'

‘Not hard. How did it go?’

It was lovely to have a woman of her own age to talk to, thought Jo. Dora was a dear and Marcus was a con temporary, but, however hard they tried, they couldn't really relate to Jo's fears and disappointments. Miranda listened attentively, taking occasional bites out of her biscuit. Then she let loose a short, fluent statement full of foul language that Jo found immensely satisfying.

‘Oh Miranda, I love you!' said Jo.

‘Likewise. Now, enough of that,' she said briskly, sensing it was time to change the subject. 'What have you got in that carrier bag?'

‘I may have to take back my last statement about loving you. These little items represent hours of painstaking work, practice, research, and goodness knows what else.'

‘You missed out "blood, sweat and tears".’

‘They're a given.'

‘So, let me look.’

Jo reached into her carrier and took out the first tissue-wrapped parcel and handed it to Miranda. She unwrapped it carefully and took out the little mirror.

‘Oh my God! I can't believe it,' she said. 'You've worked a miracle.’

Relief made Jo laugh. 'It was no miracle, it was all those other things, including the blood and tears.'

‘But it's exquisite! My goodness, you've gilded it properly, with real gold leaf! I can't believe it!' Miranda said again, lowering the mirror. 'You are ambitious.'

‘Foolish, more like. I fell in love with the technique when I was in the shop, buying supplies. I knew I had to try it. It sounded so much like alchemy.'

‘You've done an amazing job, Jo. I'm so impressed. I'm going to send everything that needs repairing to you from now on.’

Jo felt some of her confidence return. 'Do, although I'll need more space if I'm going to do it for a living.'

‘There're a couple of rooms upstairs. They're full of junk now, but we could easily turn one into a little workroom for you.' Miranda paused. 'There's a little bathroom too. If you ever need a place to go, there's one here.’

Jo patted her friend's hand, unable to speak for a moment. 'That's really kind,' she said huskily. 'I might well take you up on that.’

*

Jo got back after her visit to Miranda feeling satisfied and calm. She did have saleable skills, she had taught herself a new and difficult technique so she still had a brain and hand-eye coordination, and, if all else failed, she had a place to live.

All this made her feel a lot less vulnerable and dependent on Philip's generosity. While Marcus may well be right in saying that half the value of the house was hers by right, it could take a long time to organise. And much as she found it hard to think of Philip living there with the Floosie, the thought of her old house being sold to strangers made her very sad.

Dora arrived home late, but relieved that Fred had taken her impending holiday so well.

‘He was very understanding about me not knowing how long the trip would take.'

‘I suppose, being a boatyard, he must know about waiting for weather windows, cleaning out fuel tanks and all that stuff.'

‘Of course he does.' Dora paused. 'He also thought I should go home for a visit before we went. He said I should take Tom with me.'

‘Oh yes, that's a good idea. They won't be able to do anything or say anything that will bring shame on the family if a stranger's there,' she said.

‘Well yes, Mum's not likely to make a scene while he's actually there, but I can't rely on her not to send Dad and Tom out for some reason.'

‘She will want to see you on your own, but so will you, really.' Seeing Dora was ambivalent about this proposed visit she went on, 'You can borrow the car if you like. It would make it easier to get away if it all goes pear-shaped.' Dora laughed, but protested. 'I'm not insured!'

‘I'll ring up so you will be.' Jo was sprinkling cheese and breadcrumbs over a gratin dish full of pasta and vegetables.

‘There's just one thing I'm worried about.'

‘Yes?'

‘I don't want Mum thinking me and Tom are an item. That could be really embarrassing, and hurtful to her, if shefalls in love with him straightaway, like she did with John.’

‘I'm sure she's not so fickle as to fall in love with someone else so soon,' said Jo, thinking in fact that Dora's mother might easily transfer her affections to Tom, so keen was she to see her daughter married.

Dora laughed, possibly thinking the same thing.

‘Just make it clear from the beginning that Tom is only a friend,' Jo went on.

‘I've just thought. I'll have to think of an excuse to bring Tom.'

‘Tell your mother I made you. That I wouldn't let you borrow the car unless you had a responsible adult with you.’

‘Jo! This is Tom we're talking about!'

‘I know, but…' She paused.

‘What?' demanded Dora, instantly aware that Jo was pausing for reasons of tact and diplomacy.

‘I don't want to say anything about your mother that might sound like criticism..

‘But?'

‘While she must know that you're a good driver, she would probably think you were safer if you had a man with you. She can't help it. It's her conditioning.’

Dora chewed her lip. 'And I could say I wanted him to navigate.’

Jo laughed. 'After all, it's well known that women can't read maps.'

‘And that most men can't walk down the street and chew gum at the same time!'

‘Give your mum a ring. It'll give her plenty of time to plan lunch for you.’

Dora paused. 'I wish we could go out. Restaurants are less stressful, don't you think?'

‘Your mother will want to cook for you. The good thing about Tom is that he eats a lot. Mothers like that in a boy.’