The Canal Boat Cafe 3 - Cabin Fever

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘I – I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re frowning. I’m sorry if I – if you didn’t want—’

  ‘Of course I did,’ she said, ‘couldn’t you tell?’ She tried a laugh, but it sounded like she was clearing her throat.

  ‘So what’s wrong?’ He thumbed a strand of hair away from her face, then glanced behind him as Archie came up and put his head on Mason’s shoulder, whimpering softly.

  ‘Perhaps it’s time to go inside,’ Summer said.

  Mason nodded, holding her gaze. ‘Sure. It’ll start to get cold soon.’

  He sat up, and Summer felt the space between them immediately. He shuffled to the edge of the boat, and then hopped down. Summer passed him the wine glasses, and then gently she hefted down Archie, and then Latte, into his arms. Mason put them on the deck, and the dogs raced around, having a moment of madness after being on the roof.

  Summer slid over to the edge of the boat and lowered herself down, careful not to let her dress ride up. Mason was there to catch her, his arms around her, helping her to land safely on the deck. Summer felt her body respond to his touch, keener now that she had some experience of how good it felt. Their faces were close, but Mason’s look was questioning.

  ‘This has been perfect,’ Summer said, fighting with her urge to kiss him again. She wanted to, but she didn’t want the thoughts to come back. She wanted to be free to enjoy being with him, she wanted to be sure. ‘You’ve made today so much better than it could have been.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Mason said. ‘And I’m sorry if—’

  Summer put a finger to his lips. ‘Sorry isn’t allowed,’ she said. ‘It was perfect.’

  Mason raised his eyebrows. ‘You didn’t seem sure, a moment ago.’

  ‘I am,’ she said. ‘I – at least, I nearly am. But I don’t want to rush things. I’ve got it so wrong in the past, and I just don’t want to …’ She shook her head, sighing at her inability to articulate her feelings. ‘Can I come and see your eagle photos? Tomorrow, maybe, if you’re around.’

  ‘I’ll be here,’ Mason said.

  ‘Good.’ She bent to stroke Latte, getting the dog’s attention, and stepped off the deck on to the towpath.

  ‘Summer?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if I was … misreading things?’

  ‘I would,’ Summer said, ‘but you’re not. You’re not, I just – like you, I have to work through things.’

  Mason nodded, and to her relief Summer saw him smile, a warm, genuine smile that broke out through the nighttime shadows, and reached her almost as if his hand were running up her arm. He understood her hesitation, he knew that it wasn’t as simple as two people being attracted to each other.

  Summer made her way back to The Canal Boat Café, thinking that either Claire’s story about Tania was missing some truths, or Summer was the worst judge of character ever. Mason was genuine, she was sure of it. He may still be keeping things from her, but she was just as guilty of doing the same with him. It wasn’t instant download, as Harry had said, and tonight they had taken another step towards getting to know each other. She just had to make sure she didn’t allow her physical desire to race ahead of her emotions. She couldn’t bear the thought of getting it wrong and making an enemy out of Mason – he was already too important to her for that.

  Summer found she couldn’t sleep at all that night. When she closed her eyes she saw a slideshow of stars and the moon, Mason’s face turning to her on the roof of the boat, the way he’d looked up as he spoke about his previous life. He’d begun to let her in, so she should do the same. She shouldn’t be letting Claire’s outdated warning – as good a friend as she was – or the nickname used by someone she’d met only a couple of times, win over the reality of being with Mason. But she was still wary. She’d got things so wrong with Ross, and she didn’t want to make another mistake that would haunt her.

  The following morning continued the run of beautiful, clear skies and fresh summer heat. Summer iced some lemon drizzle cake and opened the door, hatch and windows of the café as wide as they would go. She’d got through the first anniversary of her mum’s death. It felt like it was a milestone, that she was automatically stronger just for having passed that date, and that she could treat this day like a fresh start. Maybe it was fate that Mason had come to her now. Maybe she was meant to make things work with him, to get over the hurdles and run into his arms at the finish line.

  She found that she was beaming as she worked, as wide and brightly as the sun, and the morning flew by. She welcomed in a group of two families who filled all twelve seats inside the café, and the outdoor tables were permanently busy. The coffee machine squealed and frothed, people adhering to the adage that a hot drink was refreshing on a hot day, and she ran out of Magnums before lunchtime. Barry, one of the regular helmsman who often stopped for a drink, cruised past on his boat, and she gave him a takeaway coffee, bacon roll and slice of coffee cake, and then stood and watched as a family of swans, with six downy grey cygnets, swam past in a haphazard line. The season was in full flush, full bloom, and here on the river Summer felt like she was in the best place to enjoy her namesake.

  When she closed up at half past six, her planned trip back to The Sandpiper firmly at the forefront of her mind, she hurried along the towpath towards Valerie’s boat, Moonshine. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone after the memorial, to thank her for organizing it, albeit surreptitiously. She didn’t want the older woman thinking she was cross with her – she wanted to be kinder and more open to Valerie, to start letting those closest to her in.

  As she jumped on to the bow deck, she saw movement inside, and realized that Valerie must be finishing with one of her clients. She hopped back down to the towpath and was greeted by Harvey, Valerie’s adventurous silver tabby. She crouched and stroked him, his body flattening out under her hand, his purrs loud and approving. His big green eyes looked up at the sound of voices behind them, and Summer turned to discover that Valerie’s customer was none other than Ross. She felt irritation sweep through her, certain that he was about to get in the way of her talk with Valerie and her night with Mason. But she wasn’t going to let him – not today.

  ‘Summer,’ Ross’s grin showed off all his white teeth. He was wearing green khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt with a cartoon ‘Kapow’ speech bubble on it. ‘You’re looking very lovely, but then I guess you must be feeling pretty at home.’

  Summer glanced in the direction of her boat, and Ross laughed. ‘I meant the season. Summer in summer. It has to be your favourite time of year.’

  She was sure they’d had this conversation before, but Summer played along. ‘It’s beautiful, but I love autumn just as much. Summer was my mum’s favourite season, though.’

  Ross nodded, his smile replaced by a solemn expression. ‘Valerie was telling me what you all did yesterday, to remember her. It sounds like it went well, but it can’t have been easy.’

  ‘No,’ Summer felt herself shutting down. ‘It was tough, but it was worth doing. I …’ She looked at Valerie, ‘I was actually coming to say thank you, for what you did. For taking the trouble, and for contacting Ben and my dad, and Harry. I know I was shocked to begin with, but I would have been regretting it now, if I hadn’t done anything to mark it. Instead, I …’ She glanced at Ross, not wanting him to know how refreshed she felt. He would either laugh at it, or jump on it and try and make himself a part of her fresh start. ‘I’m so pleased we did it. Thank you, Valerie.’

  Valerie stepped on to the towpath, her thin dress in shimmering gold and yellow catching on the slight breeze, and put her arms around Summer. Summer relaxed into the hug, her head against Valerie’s shoulder and her red hair tickling her face.

  ‘I’m glad you saw the good in it,’ Valerie said, ‘and that you understand why I did it that way. It was Maddy’s idea, actually.’ She stepped back and looked at Summer seriously, and Summer resisted the eye roll.

  ‘
I’m not sure if—’

  ‘I don’t mean keeping it quiet from you. I mean the roses in the river.’

  Summer frowned, and lifted up Harvey who was slinking around her ankles, craving attention. ‘She told you to do that?’

  Ross folded his arms over his chest, and Summer could see a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Summer’s irritation surged again – why was he getting readings from Valerie if he didn’t believe in it, if he was going to ridicule her?

  Valerie gave a soft, sad smile. ‘A friend of hers, Warren, do you remember him? He used to be a lock keeper, but passed through Willowbeck regularly on his days off. He died a couple of years ago. I think he was in his early seventies, so it was terribly sad, but not tragic. Maddy only heard about it in passing, from another boatman, and she didn’t really know him well enough to attend the funeral, so she said that she would do her own thing for him. She got a huge bunch of white roses and threw them, one by one, in the river, while she told me stories about him. It was such a simple way of saying goodbye, and I thought, for Maddy’s memory, to remember her, that was what we should do.’

  Summer smiled, relieved that Valerie hadn’t told her a story from beyond the grave, and touched that her plans had been based on her mum’s own, thoughtful ceremony.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘It was good to see Dad and Ben, too.’

  ‘They’ve missed you, you can tell.’

  ‘I should be better at staying in touch with them.’

  ‘You’re doing a good job, Summer. Look how the café’s thriving under your influence. God,’ Valerie laughed, ‘was it only the beginning of the year when it was falling apart under my care?’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Summer said. ‘You already had another job.’

  ‘So did you,’ Ross said, pointedly, reminding Summer of how long it had been since she’d worked on a commission, or even visited the other members of the co-operative. ‘And weren’t you going to sell The Canal Boat Café?’

  Summer narrowed her eyes. ‘Things change – you never know what’s going to happen. I remember you saying something very similar to me, not too long ago.’

  Ross grinned at her and scratched the back of his neck. ‘Can I talk to you, Summer?’

  ‘Sure,’ Summer said, keeping her voice even, steeling herself for the inevitable, circular conversation. ‘Let’s get a table outside.’ She gestured towards the pub.

  ‘Things OK with Jenny, then? That’s a surprise.’

  ‘We’ve agreed to leave each other to it,’ Summer said. ‘She has to accept I’m back here running the café, and I have to get used to her not wanting anything to do with me, which is fine – much better than sinister cakes appearing on my boat. It’s working so far.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Ross said. ‘What do you want to drink?’

  While Ross went to get their drinks, Summer headed back inside to get Latte, knowing she’d want to enjoy the sunshine and thinking she could take the Bichon Frise for her evening walk afterwards, before she went to see Mason. She smiled at the little skip inside her tummy, and thought that, if she could just get through the next hour with Ross, then she was all set up for a perfect evening of Mason, his boat and his photographs – she hadn’t yet decided which of those was the most beautiful. Her step was light as she went to meet Ross on the grass, Latte bounding along at her side. The day was full of promise, and Summer was prepared to let herself enjoy it.

  It was a perfect summer’s evening, the other tables at the pub busy with chatter and laughter, everyone relaxed, nobody too serious or solemn. They had come to enjoy the warmth of the late sun, and the picture-perfect English view next to the river. Summer couldn’t imagine a more beautiful spot. The only place, she thought, where there might be the smallest semblance of tension was at the picnic table she was now seated at, and most of it was coming from her.

  ‘Is this becoming a regular thing for you, having readings with Valerie?’

  Ross shrugged. ‘Would it be a problem if it was?’

  ‘No, not at all. I just … I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you were in to, that’s all. What do you go for? Astrology, palmistry, clairvoyance?’ Summer knew that Valerie used several methods, including tarot cards and tea leaves, as well as the stars, hands and her spiritual vision. That was the one that Summer most associated with Valerie’s assertions that Maddy was watching over them, though in truth it could have been any of them.

  ‘She varies the readings,’ Ross said. ‘I think that her inner sight guides it all, but she did look closely at my palms today. She spotted a few interesting things, actually.’

  ‘Oh?’ Summer wasn’t sure she wanted to hear about this. There had to be another agenda with Ross, and while she couldn’t bear the thought of rejecting him completely, she didn’t want to spend too long with him – she had to get ready to see Mason.

  Ross nodded and sipped his beer. ‘I know – I remember you said that you didn’t believe in this stuff, and I totally get that. But I really do think there’s something to it. You get on with Valerie, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. She’s a good friend, but I … we can believe in different things, can’t we?’ Summer sighed, angry with herself for becoming defensive so quickly.

  Ross, as usual, wasn’t remotely rattled. ‘Of course, I just think it’s odd. Anyway, she predicted good things for the business, a possible expansion opportunity, which is interesting because I looked at a vacant shop the other side of Cambridge a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘Wow,’ Summer said. ‘You’re going to buy another shop? You’ll have to employ some more staff.’

  ‘The rent seems pretty reasonable, and Cambridge is full of creative people. I would have thought some of the artists at your co-op might be looking for a bit of extra cash to support their artistic endeavours.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Summer said, pushing away the guilt at not having been in touch with them for so long. She was sure Ross could work out how she was feeling, and was saying this deliberately to push her buttons. She wondered if he’d really had a reading at all, or had just been having a cup of tea with Valerie, and was now making this all up.

  ‘Summer? Are you OK? You’re away with the fairies.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She gave him a quick smile, and decided to be bold. ‘Ross, look, of course it’s up to you what you do—’

  ‘That wasn’t the main thing Valerie said, though,’ Ross interrupted, his voice loud, cutting her off.

  Summer took a sip of her drink and squeezed her hands into fists under the table.

  ‘She said that I would need to watch out for someone, that I’d need to be ready to pick them up off the floor, and that it wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘Ross, I don’t believe—’

  ‘I’m sure she was talking about you,’ Ross said. ‘She gave me such a pointed look. She said that it was my role to look after this person, even if they didn’t think they needed it.’

  Summer’s irritation flashed into anger. ‘She could have been talking about anyone. And anyway, you know I don’t believe in it.’

  ‘But I do,’ Ross said. He pressed his palms flat on the table; there was no attempt to put his hand over Summer’s, or squeeze her arm. ‘I have to take her words seriously, or what’s the point of going?’

  Summer didn’t have anything to say to that, so she just shrugged and checked that Latte was happy at her feet. The little dog was snoozing in the sunshine, one ear folded back as if she was listening to their conversation. A seagull had landed on the roof of The Sandpiper, and Summer wondered if Mason could hear it, if Archie was going mad inside at the tantalizing sound of something he could be chasing.

  ‘Valerie said,’ Ross continued, sighing, ‘that someone close to me was about to be fooled, that they were about to be hurt, very deeply, at a time when they were only just getting back on their feet.’

  ‘Why isn’t this reading about you?’ Summer snapped, not wanting to hear any more.

&n
bsp; ‘It is about me. It’s about what I have to do, what my role is.’ Ross’s open, easy face suddenly looked angry, and Summer sat back, shocked. He was always happy around her, always relaxed in the face of her moods. Summer wondered, for a brief second, if what he was telling her was the truth.

  ‘Sorry,’ she murmured.

  Ross shook his head. ‘You are always so quick to point out how OK you are, Summer. Ever since last year, ever since we slept together, you’ve been like a porcelain doll with a fixed smile, not willing to admit to any weakness or sadness, and now I’m coming to you with this, and you’re doing everything you can to bat me away. Are you saying there’s no prospect of you being hurt by anyone? That you’re untouchable?’

  Summer shifted on the bench. ‘It’s not really your business.’

  Ross ran a hand through his short hair. ‘Fine. You don’t have to tell me anything, of course you don’t, but I can’t be blamed just because I care about you. Valerie said that this person I care about, this person I’m supposed to look after, is walking into the path of a Lothario.’

  Summer froze, her intake of breath loud between them. Ross was giving her a steady look, and Summer felt like her insides were beginning to disintegrate. She tried to blink away her disbelief, tried to get her thoughts in order so she could work out what had just happened. Ross had a motive to put her off Mason – he had been suspicious and jealous of him since the beginning – but how had he known Mick’s nickname for him, the one that, along with Claire’s story, was niggling away at her?

  ‘Summer,’ Ross said kindly, ‘are you OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said, flapping away his concern with a hand.

  ‘You look pale, have you been getting enough rest?’

  ‘Why do I need rest?’ she snapped. ‘I’m not eighty – or two! I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman and I have lots of energy. I don’t need more rest than anyone else!’

  ‘I just meant have you been working too hard, running that café all by yourself? Your boat was broken into in the middle of the night – the psychological effects of that will last much longer than you think.’ He was back to unflappable, knowing that he’d got to her, that he had the upper hand.