Going Dutch

by Katie Fforde

  As there was nothing else constructive she could do, she poured herself a glass of wine and took a handful of crisps. She glanced across at Jo, who looked tired, and felt very sorry for her. Poor Jo! She was anxious enough about this trip without having to deal with Carole too.

  Then she noticed the table that she had set earlier and added another place. It was going to be a squash, but too bad. No one should mind too much; after all, they were on a barge, about to do a job, not socialising on a yacht in the South of France.

  Carole, she couldn't help thinking, would be more at home in the Cap d'Antibes than chugging down the great greasy Thames to the coast. There was an awkward silence. Jo, usually so socially conscientious, didn't break it, and Dora couldn't think how to. Carole didn't speak either. To everyone's relief, they heard footsteps approaching.

  Dora bounced forward, feeling like a Labrador puppy, friendly but a bit over-enthusiastic. 'Come in, both of you. I'll get you a drink. You must be Ed – what would you like?'

  ‘How do, all,' said Ed. 'And beer for now, if you've got it. A drop of rum later.' He was tall, silver-haired and, Dora decided, gave one confidence. A different confidence to Marcus's, who seemed rather sullen all of a sudden. Ed was happy in his skin and knew what he was doing. He was either unaware of the atmosphere or dispelled it by his jovial presence.

  ‘Glass or can?' Dora asked.

  ‘Can. Let's save on the washing-up wherever possible!'

  He laughed merrily and Dora felt he was going to be

  a good catalyst for the disparate group of people on board.

  'Oh, thank you for doing the honours, Dora,' said Jo,

  who seemed to have returned more or less to her old self.

  ‘What would you like, Carole? You must have something while we're all swigging away.'

  ‘A glass of still mineral water then, please. I don't need anything complicated.' She aimed for a smile but didn't quite manage it.

  ‘I'm afraid that's a bit of a problem,' said Jo after a moment. 'We haven't got any. I've got lots of fizzy water, all kinds of soft drinks and alcohol, including rum' – she glanced at Ed – 'but no still mineral water. You might have told me, Marcus,' she finished. Marcus had told her that Ed liked rum. Marcus didn't respond.

  ‘There's some orange and mango juice,' suggested Dora. 'It's lovely with some fizzy water.'

  ‘Carbonated water is connected with osteoporosis,' said Carole.

  ‘Not at your age, surely!' said Jo.

  ‘It's never too early to start taking care of oneself,' said Carole. 'You should be really careful.'

  ‘What about you, Marcus?' Jo went on, ignoring this and making an effort to speak to him when she felt like spitting. The combination of Marcus's sullenness and Carole's fussiness was getting on her nerves. How would she last an hour, let alone a few days with them?

  ‘Wine – no – make that a lager.'

  ‘You're going to have to drink my wine eventually,' said Jo, almost to herself. 'It's perfectly nice. It was on offer and Dora and I have been test-driving it.’

  Carole frowned.

  Aware that Carole was still drinkless, Dora said, 'Why not have the orange and mango with just a splash of sparkling water? I'm sure a little drop can't do you any harm. You could take a calcium pill or something.'

  ‘OK, that would be fine,' said Carole with a rare smile. 'I did bring all my supplements with me.'

  ‘But how are you going to manage when all you really want to drink is water?' asked Jo, who thought she'd con sidered every single requirement anyone could possibly have. Her heart sank.

  ‘I'll pop along to the Eight-'til-Late,' said Tom, who had come in quietly and helped himself to a can of lager. 'Dora can help me carry it.'

  ‘Well, let's eat first. Everyone must be hungry. Oh, thanks for setting an extra place, Dora. Just sit anywhere, all of you.’

  There was a lot of shuffling and jostling and you-go firsting and then Carole said, 'I'm a vegetarian.’

  Jo thought about the dishes and dishes of non-vegetarian food she had prepared. 'Oh well, would you like me to make you a quick omelette or something?'

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Jo had offered but she hadn't expected Carole to accept.

  She had expected her to say, 'Just a baked potato is fine.’

  ‘Carole, don't put Jo to that trouble,' said Marcus quietly. 'It's no trouble,' said Jo, struggling to her feet.

  ‘I'll do it,' said Tom. 'I'm nearest.’

  Jo and Dora sent him looks of gratitude that almost conferred sainthood.

  ‘Thank you so much, Tom. Now, shall I serve out? I'll do it for this first meal, but you'll have to look after yourselves after that.’

  Everyone began eating except Carole, who regarded the baked potato and peas on her plate. They were possibly not toxic, but they were certainly high on the glycemic index -or perhaps low. Dora didn't know which, she only knew that from Carole's point of view they were 'Bad'. When Tom laid a perfectly golden omelette next to them, Dora felt he was due a round of applause. Jo obviously agreed because she gave him a very warm smile and patted hisarm affectionately. Dora caught Marcus noticing this with distinct lack of approval. He was probably embarrassed that it was his girlfriend who had made the omelette necessary.

  ‘This is delicious, Jo,' said Ed. 'Would you pass the bread, I want to make sure I don't miss any of the wonderful sauce.’

  Jo handed him the basket of bread and added a smile such as she had just bestowed on Tom. 'There's plenty more if you'd like it later.'

  ‘Oh, I'm fine, love. Better wait till everyone's finished before doling out a second lot of rations.'

  ‘How's your omelette, Carole?' asked Jo warmly. Possibly only Dora could tell that Jo might have said something very rude had the answer not been positive. 'It's wonderful. Thank you so much, Tom.’

  Strange, thought Dora, Marcus didn't seem to notice Carole's beaming smile of gratitude.

  Carole rejected the homely crumble that oozed black currant juice over the edges and had a crisp, buttery crust that Dora could have eaten by itself as a biscuit it was so good. She didn't want tea or coffee, either.

  Ed stood up. 'That was thoroughly enjoyable, Jo. I can see we're going to get good vittles on this trip. Now we'll just get this washing-up out of the way-'

  ‘Well thank you so much for offering, Ed,' said Jo, 'but there's a dishwasher and I expect Marcus wants to talk things over with you. Dora and I will do this in a jiffy.'

  ‘OK then, I dare say the boss does want a bit of a conference, but I don't hold with the womenfolk doing all the domestic chores, so put me down for cooking duty sometime.'

  ‘I certainly will, Ed. Thank you so much!' Jo's gratitude was perhaps enhanced by the fact that Carole had gone on deck, possibly for a cigarette, and Marcus looked pre occupied, a frown of concentration on his face.

  Tom tagged on to the planning meeting that was going on round the table while Jo and Dora dealt with the detritus of the meal.

  ‘I'll leave this dish to soak a bit, shall I? Those bits won't come off in the dishwasher even if we could fit it in,' said Dora.

  ‘Oh yes, we can finish in the morning.' Jo yawned hugely. 'What time do you want us ready for action tomorrow, Marcus?' She'd decided she had to try and treat him normally. They couldn't set off with her hating him, she had enough to feel stressed about.

  He looked startled. 'Why? Are you coming then?’

  His question hung in the silence. 'Of course I'm coming,' said Jo after a second. 'Why shouldn't I be? Would you rather I didn't?’

  Now he hesitated before speaking. 'I thought you'd changed your mind, that's all.'

  ‘Well, I hadn't,' said Jo, thinking now was not the time to demand how on earth he'd got hold of that idea. 'So what time?'

  ‘Er, well, high water is at seven, I want to set off about two hours before to get the benefit from the ebb. That means leaving at five – so I suppose we should get up at about half past four.'

&nb
sp; ‘Fine,' said Jo, hoping her horror didn't show as Dora gasped.

  ‘Not everyone needs to be up then,' said Ed soothingly, 'Marcus and me and young Tom here will be able to manage.'

  ‘No, I'll get up when you do,' Jo insisted, yawning widely, 'but I might slope off to bed now. I'm quite tired.'

  ‘We'll go and get the water then, shall we?' said Tom. 'We can carry it between us.’

  Jo considered. Maybe a bit of fresh air would do her good before bed. 'No, I'll go and take the car. I'll give you a ring from the car park and you can help me carry it back.'

  ‘We'll all three go,' said Dora firmly. 'It won't take long.’

  As Dora, Tom and Jo walked along the jetty to where the car was parked, Dora said, 'What are the chances of Carole having finished the washing-up before we get back?'

  ‘Low,' said Tom. 'She's a high-maintenance woman.’

  Dora looked across to him. Was there a hint of admira tion in his voice? And if there was, why did she mind?

  ‘I feel quite sorry for her,' said Jo. 'She's going to sea with a lot of people she doesn't know. It would be daunting.' And her boyfriend is a moody boor, she added silently. She wondered if his earlier friendliness had just been to make sure she came along and he had a chief cook and bottle-washer on board. When he thought she wasn't coming he'd obviously felt peeved he hadn't got everything the way he wanted it. How childish. She had more sympathy with Carole.

  ‘You're just too forgiving,' said Dora. 'She probably invited herself, we're all in the same boat – if you'll forgive the expression – and she's an adult. She can just make an effort to fit in.'

  ‘I should have thought of water,' Jo went on. 'After all, it can taste a bit funny out of the tap after a few days.'

  ‘The water in the tap is fine,' said Tom firmly. 'It only gets stale if it's been there a while and we're not going away for long, it's only just a hop across the North Sea.'

  ‘Nothing's ever that simple, Tom,' said Jo. 'Trust me. I'm an eccentric old woman. T know stuff_’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Having been to the bathroom, Jo went into the little cabin formerly known as the glory hole. It didn't make sense to move Dora, she had insisted, and it was only for a short time. She'd soon be back in her stateroom, about to be occupied by Marcus and Carole.

  The glory hole was glorious, thought Jo, as she shut the door. When they'd first been clearing it out and making it nice, she'd had it in mind that Tom would be sleeping in it. Once they'd realised that he would be sharing the forepeak with Ed, and it was going to be a woman who lived there, they'd made a special effort with it. Now, Jo noticed, Dora had put a selection of creams and potions on the shelf, tucked a teddy bear into the bunk and put a copy of heat magazine on the little bedside cabinet. On top of that was a miniature bottle of Famous Grouse whisky. Jo laughed, and hid the bottle away behind her pillow. She really hoped things wouldn't get so bad that she became a secret drinker but if all else failed it was nice to have a fallback position.

  Jo felt a bit guilty going to bed before everyone else. She was the hostess, she should stay up in case anyone needed anything, put the lights out, find extra bedding or what ever. But she had done all the cooking they were likely to need for the entire trip, made so many trips to the local shop she called the boy who helped her pack her bags by his first name. She had organised all the bedding, whichmeant buying extra. And if she was to be up at the un godly hour Marcus suggested she needed to get her head down immediately. Marcus was an excellent skipper, she told herself, everyone said so. If he was behaving a little frostily then she'd just have to live with it. So what if he hadn't even said goodnight, that was his problem. At least she had Ed, Tom and Dora. Touched and amused by Dora's presents, she snuggled under the duvet and went to sleep with a smile on her face.

  *

  She woke early and got up immediately, hoping she was the first. Without doing more than pulling a sweater on over her pyjamas she went up on deck to see the dawn on the water. She knew she must hurry – everyone would be up very shortly.

  She had always loved early mornings and when she lived in her old home, she used to steal out in her nightie into her garden and revel in the beauty of the dew on the lawn, the flowers, the way the light stole in behind some of the plants creating strange, pale shadows. She would stay out until her feet got cold and then go in, make a cup of tea, and come back out to drink it, sitting on a bench, watching the day emerge and the magic fade. It was as if the earlier moment had been just for her, a secret revelation of beauty.

  The dawn was almost as beautiful today, only she wasn't alone to enjoy it. As she stepped down from the wheel house, she saw Marcus up at the bows, clutching a cup of something that steamed. She stayed still, hoping he wouldn't notice her, planning to hop back up the steps into the wheelhouse and then back down below again. She couldn't face any hostility this morning. But something must have alerted him to her presence and he turned.

  Quickly, he edged round the boat towards her and was with her too soon for her to be able to go back without it looking like she was running away. Pride forced her to stay where she was.

  ‘I seem to have been under a misapprehension,' he said. 'Oh?' She tensed, trying to guess his mood.

  ‘Yes. I thought you'd decided not to come.'

  ‘Why on earth did you think that?' Jo felt herself bristling all over again.

  ‘It was something Bill said. He said – I'm sure he did -that you were going to some antiques fair with Miranda and were about to start work there.’

  This did explain, to some extent, his surprise at seeing her on the barge. 'Well, only if I could. We didn't know when we were going, did we?'

  ‘No.' He paused. 'I think I owe you an apology, Joanna. I thought you'd abandoned this trip, and after all my coaching.'

  ‘I'm surprised you thought that. I would have thought you knew better than to think that of me.'

  ‘I have said I'm sorry.'

  ‘No you haven't!’

  The tiniest smile nudged the corner of his mouth. 'OK, I'll say it now. I'm truly sorry for misjudging you.’

  ‘And listening to gossip.'

  ‘It wasn't gossip, precisely..

  ‘Hearsay then.’

  He sighed, getting impatient with this protracted apology. 'It was just that Bill said the antiques fair you were going to with Miranda was starting tomorrow.'

  ‘I would have very much liked to have gone,' said Jo primly. 'It would have been very good for me, career-wise. However I had arranged to come on this trip some time ago. It was my priority.’

  He touched her shoulder. 'I really have said I'm sorry now. Can we be friends?’

  Jo considered. It was a bit like being asked to be friends with a panther – while it seemed impossible, it was a much safer option than being enemies. He was so unpredictable, who knew what else might set him off, but they were about to go on a journey together and she had to trust him. 'Of course.' She made to go but he put his hand on her shoulder again. 'Don't go just yet. Ed will be up in a moment and he'll get Tom up. What about Dora?’

  Jo glanced at her watch. 'I'll give her another ten minutes or so, let the others use the bathroom. What about Carole?'

  ‘She'll stay out of the way until things are under way. She's not much good at boats.’

  Jo couldn't ask why he'd brought her – it would be rude, even if she was curious. Jo was rarely, if ever, rude. 'There's no point in her dragging herself out of bed, then.'

  ‘No.'

  ‘I'll make some tea for the others.'

  ‘I would have done it but I couldn't find a teapot.’

  ‘Oh, no, well, there isn't one.'

  ‘Which explains why I couldn't find it.’

  Jo sighed. 'I should have got one. I seem to have for gotten so much.' In spite of his apology, Jo still felt out of sorts with Marcus. His thinking that she could duck out of such a long-standing engagement was hurtful and it didn't exactly warrant such frosty behaviour. She would g
et over it, of course, but just now, she felt at odds with him.

  Possibly sensing this, Marcus was insistent. 'No, you haven't forgotten anything. You've done brilliantly. As Ed said, there's vittles for an army and liquor for the Navy.'

  ‘I like Ed. I'm so glad you brought him. He's going to make everyone feel better.’

  Marcus didn't seem to approve of this accolade. 'I hope he's going to be my first mate.'

  ‘But he'll do the other thing just by being here. I'm going to make tea, now.’

  Once in the galley she congratulated herself on sounding really quite normal. She put the kettle on feeling that maybe everything would be OK after all.

  *

  Dora was woken by the sound of the bathroom door closing. Although there was light coming in through the porthole she could tell it was still very early. She must get up. They were setting off that morning.

  Excitement flooded through her. She was going on an adventure and Tom was there. He was amusing to go adventuring with and fun just happened around him.

  Briefly, she allowed herself to think how John would have been on a trip like this. He would have been fine, she told herself firmly, if he'd actually come. There just would have been a million, unarguable excuses why he shouldn't. About the only times they'd been away together had been to visit his relations.

  She pulled on her jeans and a cotton sweater. She could hear swooshing and spitting and a few ecstatic groans coming from the bathroom and realised it contained an enthusiastic strip washer. Feeling guilty for the quick swipe of deodorant and fingerful of moisturiser that com prised her own ablutions that morning, she went to the galley.

  Tom and Marcus were there, drinking tea. Jo was making toast under the grill and indicated a mug. 'I was going to take that in to you. Ed's in the bathroom.'

  ‘I know. I decided it was too early to wash. I'll do it later. Good morning, Marcus. Oh, hi, Tom.' Seeing his wide smile made Dora wish she'd had a chance to brush her teeth. The moment Ed was out of the bathroom she'd go and do it.

  ‘Butter that lot for me,' said Jo, 'there's a dear, and think of what people might like on it. There's marmalade, Marmite, honey, jam.'