The Canal Boat Cafe 3 - Cabin Fever

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘Summer, my dear,’ Valerie said, ‘was this really only last night?’

  Summer nodded.

  ‘You’re incredible. I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this, but I cannot imagine the Summer I greeted in February bouncing back from something so horrendous quite so quickly. That you’re sitting here now, maybe looking a little tired, granted, but as smiley and sparkly as you are, is a testament to your strength. It’s the Maddy in you.’

  ‘It is?’ The thought had crossed Summer’s mind too. She had been asking herself, as she approached every decision about the café, and about life on the river: what would Mum do? But to hear Valerie say they were similar was, to her, proof that maybe she could be as bold and as bright as her mum had been.

  ‘There is a lot of her in you,’ Valerie continued. ‘So much, in your eyes, in your smile, and in your determination.’

  ‘I’m discovering that you have to be proactive and determined living on a boat,’ she said, trying to defuse the emotion that was building up. Her tiredness meant she was already on the edge of an unnecessary sob, and Valerie’s words were taking her closer. ‘When I think of the things I had to do in my flat – change a light bulb, hoover, take the bins out – it was all so easy. On The Canal Boat Café, a weird noise usually means taking things apart, repairing, cleaning things out. It’s like the boat’s another person, and a very high-maintenance and temperamental one at that.’

  ‘And yet you’re smiling,’ Valerie said.

  Summer shrugged, and then gave a wide wave as she watched Mason hop off The Sandpiper and scan the grass for them, Archie eager to get ahead of him and amongst the geese.

  ‘I am,’ she said. ‘I love it. When I saw the café this morning after the break-in, I was devastated.’

  ‘Understandably.’

  ‘Not just because it meant a lot of work, but because someone had harmed my boat, they’d hurt her, and I hadn’t been able to protect her from it.’

  ‘Oh, Summer,’ Valerie said, ‘you’re turning into a true river creature.’

  ‘Like an otter?’ Summer laughed.

  ‘Who’s an otter?’ Mason asked, sliding easily on to the bench. He was facing Summer, and she could see where the day spent under the sun had brought out a few light freckles along his cheeks. His glasses were gone, his hair was damp and extra curly from the shower and he was wearing a faded orange T-shirt and grey shorts. While the tiredness was evident as a few extra lines round his eyes, he too seemed more relaxed to be back in Willowbeck, and at the end of their unpleasant adventure.

  ‘I’m an otter,’ Summer said. ‘Valerie said I was a river creature, so I picked otter. Water voles are cute, but I hope that, now at least, I’m a bit bolder than a vole.’

  Mason nodded, and held his beer up in silent thanks, before taking a long sip. ‘Otters are impressive. They like their own territory though, so apart from when they’re breeding they’re pretty solitary. I can’t imagine an otter inviting every other creature along the river into their holt for cake and bacon butties.’

  ‘You’re taking us a bit too literally, Mason dear,’ Valerie said.

  ‘All I’m saying is that you’re much more sociable,’ Mason said. ‘More like a lapwing.’

  ‘What are they like?’

  ‘They’re beautiful birds,’ Mason said, and then stopped, his eyes meeting Summer’s and holding her gaze. ‘And they live in large flocks. But they’re becoming rarer in the UK.’

  ‘Something to be treasured, then?’ Valerie asked, reaching over and squeezing Summer’s hand.

  ‘Not to be taken for granted,’ Mason agreed. ‘Thank you for the beer.’

  ‘Doesn’t it feel like the most delicious, most welcome drink you’ve ever had?’ Summer said. ‘Just like the shower I had when we got back. I’m savouring everything that’s not hot and sticky and tiring. Not that I don’t love cruising up the river, but it was a bit of a struggle after last night.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mason said, ‘maybe you would have got cold feet if you hadn’t done it straight away. If Claire had helped you to mend the café, maybe you would have carried on with them.’

  ‘I could have waited,’ Summer said, ‘but I didn’t want to. I was ready to come back here. Even if the break-in hadn’t happened, I was beginning to get tired of roving, of feeling unsettled.’

  ‘I thought you loved the lifestyle with Claire and her friends,’ Valerie said.

  ‘I did, I’m not at all sad that I did it, but I don’t know – this just feels right.’ She swept her arms wide, taking in Willowbeck’s idyllic summer vista, the cheerful, chatting people, the gentle riverside hum. When she thought back to Foxburn, and Tivesham, she realized they weren’t a patch on Willowbeck. ‘It was time to come back. This is where I belong.’

  This time when she said it, she meant it whole-heartedly. She was even sitting at one of the pub tables – she’d purposefully gone into Jenny’s territory – and it felt OK. She lifted her glass, and Mason and Valerie clinked theirs with hers.

  ‘I think it’s chip time,’ she said. Archie looked up, his eyes alert. Summer laughed. ‘That’s not up to me, Archie. That’s up to Mason.’

  ‘Or Archie,’ Valerie said.

  Mason tried to look affronted, but he was smiling. ‘Want some help?’

  Summer shook her head. She thought the more she went into the lion’s den, the less fear the lion would hold for her, and would maybe begin to get used to her too. But this time Jenny was nowhere to be seen, and she ordered the food from Dennis.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said, leaning over the bar to give him a peck on the cheek. ‘You and Mason really saved the day.’

  Dennis brushed her compliments off, but she could see the glimmer of pleasure in his eyes. ‘We weren’t there when it happened.’

  ‘I know, but you came straight away. You made me face up to things, you wouldn’t let me wallow in self-pity for long.’

  ‘Self-pity does nobody any good, and you just need to be shown the light at the end of the tunnel. In your case, it’s a grim-looking tunnel but it’s pretty short.’

  ‘I’m going to start the clean-up tomorrow,’ Summer said. ‘Mum would have used it as an opportunity, someone telling her to do a bit of renovation. I’m going to do the same.’

  Dennis nodded, his smile sad, his eyes bright. ‘You do that,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll bring your chips out to you when they’re ready.’

  Summer thanked him and turned away.

  ‘And, Summer,’ he said, and she turned back. ‘You’ve got a good one there. Mason,’ he added when she frowned. ‘He’s a top-notch bloke.’

  She wanted to tell him that she didn’t really have him, that she didn’t know what they had, but instead she just nodded and smiled, and gave Dennis a thumbs up which, a moment later, seemed ridiculous.

  ‘Summer,’ Valerie said as soon as she appeared, ‘you’re going to need to make a birthday cake!’

  Summer trailed her hand along Archie’s warm fur and then sat back down. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because young Mason here is turning thirty-five.’

  ‘Wow!’

  Mason laughed. ‘It’s not that old.’

  ‘I thought you were younger.’

  ‘My dashing good looks?’ Mason flashed her a grin and Summer’s stomach responded with a back-flip.

  ‘What kind of cake?’ she asked quickly. ‘Chocolate, coffee, Victoria sponge?’

  ‘How about red velvet?’

  Summer gasped and hit him on the arm, Mason’s words taking her back to the first day they’d met, when Jenny had provocatively left a red velvet cake on Summer’s deck, and Summer had given it, angrily, to Mason. ‘You’ll end up with no cake if you keep going like that!’

  ‘Sorry, sorry. It was irresistible.’

  ‘Stop complimenting her cakes.’

  Mason rolled his eyes.

  ‘We are about to eat her chips,’ Valerie said.

  ‘That’s different, I don’t cook chi
ps.’ Summer grinned and sipped her wine. ‘When is your birthday?’

  ‘The tenth of June,’ Mason said. ‘But honestly, don’t worry. I don’t do anything any more, I don’t know why I mentioned it.’ He ran a hand absent-mindedly through his quickly drying curls, and bent down to stroke the dogs.

  While he was distracted Valerie made wide-eyes at Summer and Summer gave her a thumbs up, this time feeling that the gesture was justified. There was just over a week to go, and Summer thought that was enough time to plan something special. Her own birthday – her thirty-first – had been in October, and it had been the first time that she hadn’t felt like celebrating much, with such an important person missing.

  She wondered what had made Mason give up on birthdays, whether it was just his solitary lifestyle on the river, or something more. Surely if they did something small, just with the few boating residents of Willowbeck, then he wouldn’t mind – he would know that there were people who cared about him. Summer wanted to show him how true that was.

  Dennis arrived with their cheesy chips and gravy, and they dug in, Mason and Summer both quickly realizing how ravenous they were. The bowls were soon empty and Summer was licking her fingers, but Archie and Latte seemed disappointed with their meagre pickings, and Latte put her paws on the bench, asking to be let up. Summer obliged, and Latte licked her cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry, Valerie,’ Summer said suddenly, ‘I haven’t asked you how things have been here.’

  ‘Your adventures have been much more interesting than mine,’ Valerie said, laughing. ‘But everything’s been running smoothly here. Harvey keeps me on my toes, Mike’s a very obliging lap cat, and my client list is as strong as ever. I’ve been keeping busy, but I didn’t have a premonition of your break-in,’ she said, frowning slightly. ‘I believed you were well, happy, in good hands.’

  ‘I don’t need to be in anyone’s hands,’ Summer said, ‘I’m fine. But maybe I was … too far away for you to know what was going on.’ She shrugged, knowing how lame that sounded. She had no idea how it worked.

  ‘I should have known,’ Valerie said. ‘I wish I’d been able to be there for you.’

  ‘You’re here now,’ Summer said. ‘And I had Claire and the other traders, and then of course Dennis and Mason.’ She looked at him, realizing how much emptier and more hollow she would have felt if he hadn’t turned up, if she’d been making the journey back to Willowbeck on her own.

  ‘Mason,’ Valerie said, ‘you’re a treasure.’

  Mason shrugged, and Summer saw colour rise to his cheeks. ‘Does anyone want another drink?’

  He hurried inside, barely listening to their orders, and Summer found herself laughing. ‘He’s not great at taking compliments, but I really don’t know what I would have done without him.’

  ‘He’s taken quite a liking to you,’ Valerie said. ‘That’s as plain as day.’

  Summer bit her lip. She hoped that was true, but she couldn’t shake Claire’s words, the knowledge that he’d broken Claire’s friend’s heart, the way he’d backed off when Claire had appeared and he’d, in a sense, been found out. But she was back at Willowbeck, The Canal Boat Café alongside The Sandpiper, and so she had all the time in the world to get to know the real him.

  A wind shivered around her, and Summer looked up to see that the perfectly blue sky was being swallowed by churning grey clouds. The humidity was still strong, and there was a smell of rain in the air.

  ‘I think there’s a storm on the way,’ she said.

  ‘About time too,’ Valerie said. ‘This humidity’s been creeping up mercilessly for days now.’

  Summer gave an involuntary shudder. She loved the sound of rain pounding on the roof of the boat, and the surface of the river, the flash of lightning. She felt anticipation deep down in her stomach, a sense of hope and excitement, a future at Willowbeck with her café and the people she loved around her.

  When Mason reappeared with the drinks, Summer gave him her biggest grin. She couldn’t help it.

  ‘What?’ Mason asked, laughing. His eyes crinkled at the edges, dark and sharp despite his tiredness, and Summer had to drag her gaze away.

  ‘I’m happy,’ she said. ‘This is how things should be. I know Jenny and I have still got some working out to do, and that the café’s in a state, but everything else is right. Summer at Willowbeck is beautiful – and before you make a joke, I’m not talking about me.’

  ‘You could be,’ Mason said quietly, and now Summer couldn’t look away. His gaze went right through her, and she could see intent there. Was he really a love rat, was this all part of his game? Summer couldn’t believe it.

  It was only when the first, fat raindrops fell on to them, one dropping into her wine, and sudden, deafening thunder crashed through the air, that they looked away from each other.

  A mad panic followed, people rushing from their picnic tables, jackets on heads, half-full glasses clutched against them, squeals and shouts half of consternation, half of childish glee at the sudden thunderstorm. Summer, Mason and Valerie were closest to the door and so made it inside quickly, though Mason had to stop and shoo a Canada goose out of the doorway, the large bird hissing at him and flapping his wings. Latte and Archie scampered in ahead of them, Latte yelping at the geese.

  They sunk into a booth in the far corner, the pub quickly filling up, people tracking water on to the floor and shaking their damp hair. Dennis looked stunned, a pint paused in mid-pull, and for a few moments the sound of the rain bashing against the windows drowned out all other noise.

  The pub seemed gloomy under the sudden, intense cloud cover until someone flung on all the lights. A moment later, lightning flashed intensely white, and the following thunder sounded directly overhead, eliciting squeals from some of the customers.

  ‘You were saying something about summer in Willowbeck?’ Valerie said ruefully.

  ‘I was,’ Summer said, getting her breath back and wiping water off her face. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’

  They all agreed it was.

  Chapter 2

  The following day, Summer woke with her head full of plans for the perfect birthday celebration. She would bake a cake, get some balloons and a couple of bottles of prosecco, and decorate the café. She could imagine it with streamers, sparkling confetti on the tables, the warm summer breeze wafting in through the open windows, carrying with it the scent of summer flowers. They could even sit on the tables on the towpath, as long as the weather was good.

  It would be small and select – Mason, obviously, and Valerie and Harry and Tommy, Greg if he was around, maybe even Norman. She desperately wanted to invite Dennis, and wondered if it was something Jenny would stretch to. After all, Mason’s friendship with them shouldn’t be compromised just because he was also friends with her.

  She stretched and wriggled her toes, and Latte jumped on to the floor with a little squeak. There was no yapping, as she’d done every morning when they were roving. Summer looked at her fur-ball dog, her little pink tongue and her wagging tail, and knew that the Bichon Frise was happy to be back here too. Summer wondered what Latte would think of balloons, and how pretty they would look bobbing up to the low ceiling of the café, and then she remembered.

  There would be no party in her café, there would be no café in her café until she had fixed the damage. The door, the broken vases and cups, the cash register, all needed mending or replacing.

  ‘Ugh.’ Summer pulled the duvet off, showered and dressed and went into the galley. All the kitchen implements that had been on the floor were now on the counters, and though Claire had swept the floor, nothing was in its rightful place. She fed Latte, finding her bowl under a pile of tea towels, and loaded everything she could into the dishwasher. At least it was an opportunity to give everything a deep clean.

  In the café, Summer gazed around her, feeling a waver of uncertainty, a glimmer of defeat, and then exhaled, shaking her head. Bright sunshine was streaming in through the windows, picking out all the damage
. At least the vases and flowers were gone, the detritus on the floor cleared away, but there were the bigger repair jobs to take care of.

  Summer turned on the coffee machine, thankful that the most expensive and crucial piece of equipment had foiled the burglar. She could still offer tea and coffee through the hatch while things were being fixed, and then remembered that her beloved A-frame had been broken.

  With a strong, sugary coffee, Summer sat at one of the least damaged tables and made a list. Her mum had gone to a wholesaler in Cambridge when she needed to stock up, and Summer knew she could easily replace the vases, the broken crockery, the cash register and the A-frame. The broken door and window wouldn’t be so easy, and she had no idea who her mum had used when she needed repairs – she was sure Maddy had a small address book, but Summer thought that must have gone when her brother, Ben, cleared everything out.

  Summer grabbed her bag, put Latte’s lead on and locked up the boat, leaving through the engine room at the stern as the bow door was still boarded up. As she got closer to the car park, she realized that her Polo had been sitting there for a couple of months, unused, and that the parking charges had started again at the end of March. Her insides recoiled at the thought of the parking fine she would have to pay, and as she approached she saw a white ticket on the windscreen. She walked up to it and, taking a deep breath, looked down to see what the damage was. It read: [D]Permit Approved. Ask at Willowbeck Butcher’s.[/D]

  Summer grinned and hurried round to the front of the row of shops. Adam looked up as soon as she walked in. ‘Thirty rashers of bacon, young Summer?’

  ‘Not today, today is just a huge thank you for sorting my car out.’

  Adam waved her away. ‘It’s no bother. I knew you’d gone, but didn’t think you’d want to abandon your little car, even if she is on the rusty side. I’ve got a proper permit for you out the back, but didn’t want to break in to put it on the dashboard. Then it really would have looked abandoned.’