Going Dutch

by Katie Fforde

  ‘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?’

  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 lemo
n 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.'