by Katie Fforde
‘Do you want me to walk up with you to buy a blanket? I really like the Eskies, but I could do with a break.’
Walking through the many stalls felt much less daunting now and Dora realised she'd relaxed into the festival and was no longer the nervous, sheltered girl she had once been.
‘So what are you doing now, Lizzie?' asked Dora as they made their way back to the tent.
‘Saving up to go travelling.'
‘Oh, like Tom!’
Lizzie chuckled ruefully. 'Yes, but he's really going travelling. I'm going to stay with relations in Australia!’
*
Dora was helping take the tent down when her mobile rang. She hauled it out of her pocket. It was Karen. She screamed and nearly dropped her phone. 'I can't believe it's you! Where are you?'
‘At home. My old home. Mum's here, but, Do, you've got to come back as soon as you can. I'm not here for long.'
‘How long?'
‘I can't really say. I came over with a painting from work. It's got to be repaired. We don't know how long that'll take and I've got to go back immediately it is, so I must see you.'
‘Oh my goodness. I'll have to check with Tom. This is so exciting! I can't wait to see you!'
‘Nor me. Oh, Mum wants a word.'
‘Jo? This is very exciting, Karen being home.'
‘I know. It would be lovely if you could see her. Do you think Tom wants to go back to the barge? There's not a lot of point as it'll be in dry dock for a while, and it's not really suitable for living on at the moment.'
‘Is Marcus still out there?'
‘Oh yes, but one person's not such a problem.’
Dora longed to ask if Marcus had been a problem, and how they had got on, but didn't think now was the moment.
‘I'll talk to Tom. The thing is, if I don't go back to the barge, where will I go?'
‘Talk to Tom. If all else fails, you could come here. Now Karen's asking me something. Oh, and Philip's here.’
Tom eased his shoulders back after digging out a particularly stubborn tent peg. Dora tried to ignore his chest, which was defined without being over-developed. She relayed Karen's message.
‘That's cool, we'll go to my parents.'
‘But they don't know me!' Dora protested.
‘Tom's parents are really safe,' said Lizzie. 'They'd love to have you. And isn't your mum going away anyway, Tom?' He nodded. 'Trekking in Peru.'
‘But what about your dad? He won't want a guest if your mum's away!' Dora insisted.
‘He'll be fine! He'll love you. He's very laid-back. Now, have we got all the tent pegs?’
Dora did make Tom ring his parents and ask if she could stay and although it sounded as if he was telling them she was, she decided to stop worrying about it. His parents, Tom assured her, were very pleased to have him home for a bit, 'Although Mum's going off very soon after we arrive'.
They slept for most of the journey home, on the train to the airport, on the plane, and on the train the other end. Having hardly slept while they were at the festival, they found they just couldn't stay awake now. By the time they got into a taxi at the station they had finally caught up and were feeling more human again. Dora had to admit, though, that she had really enjoyed herself.
Tom's father and mother were standing on the doorstep waiting for them. Tom's father looked extremely like Tom, only with grey hair, and his mother appeared to have less sense of vanity than her own mother. She had greying, flyaway hair, very tanned skin and was wearing a hippy skirt and sandals with a polo shirt.
‘They'll have heard the taxi,' said Tom. He led the way up the garden path to the pretty, double-fronted 1930s house of the style that Dora had heard disparagingly described as Tudorbethan, but that she had always liked for its little strange-shaped windows and diamond panes.
‘Hi, Mum, hi, Dad,' said Tom, dumping his bags down and giving both his parents a hug. 'This is Dora.'
‘Welcome, Dora,' said Tom's father, taking her hand.
‘Do come in,' said Tom's mother, who kissed her in a rather absent-minded way. 'Would you like the loo? Or shall I show you to your room? Tell you what, I'll show you where the bathroom is and you can join us when you're ready. I always need a good scrub after a journey.’
Dora thanked her, wondering if the fact that she hadn't showered for a few days was so apparent. She didn't want to keep them from their tea or whatever, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to get rid of some of the grime. They wouldn't mind her going downstairs with wet hair, she was sure.
When she came down again she found Tom and his father in the sitting room. The French doors were open and a warm breeze wafted the scent of jasmine into the room.
‘So Mum's off tomorrow?' Tom was saying. 'It's a good thing we got back today then, or I'd have missed her.’
‘It's only for three weeks,' said Tom's father.
‘Oh yes,' said Tom's mother, coming into the room carrying a tray. 'Tea, Dora? I'm Myra by the way. Tom never does introduce us properly. This is Brian.'
‘I was going to give her a glass of wine,' said Brian. 'Can I have both?' asked Dora. 'The last decent cup of tea I had seems like a lifetime ago.'
‘Of course,' said Myra, setting a mug down on the table next to her.
‘It was Dora's first music festival,' explained Tom. 'Oh, did you enjoy yourself?' asked Myra.
Dora was aware that Tom was watching her. 'Yes, once I'd got over the shock of being offered drugs before we even got inside..
‘And all the nakedness,' Tom went on.
‘It was fine,' finished Dora. 'Tom's friends were very nice.'
‘Nice? Not quite how I'd have described them.' Myra took a sip of tea that expressed her feelings perfectly. 'Not my boat friends,' Tom explained. 'These were from college. Lizzie and that lot.'
‘Oh, those friends! Yes, they are nice.'
‘Are you ready for wine now?' said Brian. 'You seem to have got that tea down you already.’
Dora laughed. 'Wine would be lovely. I just had to have a nice cup of tea to feel really human again.'
‘Hmm,' said Tom. 'I must remember that.’
Not quite sure what he meant, Dora turned to his mother. 'So you're going trekking? That does sound exciting.'
‘Not really, it's an organised tour. My friend wouldn't let us just book flights and take it from there.' She sighed. 'I must finish packing in a moment.'
‘How do you know what to take? To Peru?'
‘Oh, I've got a kit list from when Tom went to India at school,' she said. 'I've used it ever since.'
‘You went to India when you were at school?' Dora was amazed. 'The furthest we ever went to was St Albans.'
‘I've added to the list over the years.' Myra went on. 'I never go without gaffer tape. You can mend anything with it. Have you done much travelling, Dora?’
She shook her head. 'I've led rather a sheltered life, I'm afraid.'
‘Well, you're young. I didn't get into travel until I was over forty.'
‘I'm not waiting till then before I head off,' said Tom. 'Just until I've got enough money.’
Dora felt suddenly bereft at the thought of Tom heading off round the world, leaving her behind.
‘That reminds me, I must pack my neck purse. There's something wonderfully freeing about not having a hand bag,' said Myra to Dora. 'I just put my credit card and my local currency in my neck purse, a few coins in my pocket, and that's it.' She got up. 'I'll just do that now, and by then supper will be ready.'
‘What is it?' asked Tom.
‘Lasagne.'
‘Vegetarian?' Tom raised an eyebrow at his dad.
"Fraid so,' Brian answered.
‘The lentil is a much misunderstood vegetable,' called his mother from the kitchen.
‘Don't worry, Dora,' said Brian. 'We eat steak and chips a lot when Myra's away.’
Myra came back into the room. 'It's just as well I don't go away very often then. Too much red meat is bad for you. And it's r
eady. Do bring your glasses.’
Dora decided that Lizzie had been absolutely right about Tom's parents: they were lovely. His father was easygoing and friendly and his mother led an interesting life of her own and so didn't ask awkward questions. Both of them took Dora's presence completely for granted.
After supper Myra finished packing and then they all had another cup of tea before going to bed.
‘I'm not sure I'm quite ready to go back to work,' said Dora, yawning, in spite of having slept through most of the journey back from Holland.
‘We're not going back to work tomorrow,' said Tom. 'Officially, we're still with the barge in Holland. Tomorrow we're having an adventure.'
‘Oh, Tom,' said Dora, guessing he meant another bet. 'I hope you don't mean anything too tiring.'
‘Don't worry, sleepyhead, you'll love it.' He got to his feet and, pushing his hand through his hair, asked, 'More tea, anyone?’
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘I can't decide if I'm on holiday or going to work,' said Dora as she and Tom walked to the station together the following day. They had decided to call into the boatyard to tell them about their trip before going on into London.
‘You're on holiday,' said Tom firmly. 'And I know they will have been fine without us. They will want a blow-by-blow account, though.'
‘Then I'll just ring Karen,' she said. 'She might want to meet us in town or something.'
‘You're doing your dare, Dora. You can see Karen another day.’
He sounded stern and a bit parental and she had to check to make sure he was laughing. Seeing his familiar twinkle provoked a sudden rush of fondness for him. She smiled back. 'OK. I'll ring her but I won't arrange anything for today. OK?’
Karen was full of enthusiasm. 'Mum and me are having a great time! Dad's taken the Floosie away so we've got the house to ourselves. It's lovely just catching up. I want to take her shopping and things. She has got a bit old-ladyish since I've been away.’
Dora couldn't help laughing. 'If you could see your mother skipping about a barge you wouldn't say things like that.'
‘I'm very proud of her, getting over her fear of boats, but her hair's a mess.’
As Dora couldn't really disagree with this, she laughed. 'Mum's talking of having a barbie on Sunday. Would you and Tom be up for that?'
‘Definitely. It would be wonderful!' She told Tom about this when they had disconnected. 'It'll be fun. We'll see Jo and you can meet Karen and' – she shot a glance at him -'at least you can't arrange anything nasty for me to do on that day.'
‘I never arrange anything nasty! You've enjoyed all of the bets so far, admit it!’
Dora inclined her head, indicating that maybe she had, a little. 'I didn't enjoy the loos at the festival.'
‘Well, no, who would? But most of it was good, wasn't it?'
‘Yes. Actually, it was OK.’
He pushed her playfully and then ran up the steps to the platform.
Everyone at the boatyard was very pleased to see her. Someone made tea and most of the men there crowded into the office so they could hear every detail. Dora was very glad that Tom was there to provide the technical details.
‘So you went to Flushing?'
‘Yes, Marcus said it was the way he knew best.'
‘And is this Marcus as good as everyone says?' asked another man through a mouthful of ginger nut.
‘Oh yes,' said Tom. 'No doubt about it.'
‘Tom was a bit of a hero too,' said Dora. 'When Ed fell in.'
‘Holy sh- sugarlumps! You had a man overboard?’
Dora did a little gentle filing while Tom related every detail. She chimed in only to say, 'We would never have got him back on board if it hadn't been for Tom.'
‘Yes you would,' Tom said modestly, but grinning from ear to ear. 'Jo or you would have taken the wheel and Marcus would have come down to help.'
‘Not easy to keep a barge in the same place, though,' said Fred.
‘And are those continental barges really massive?' some one went on, when every detail of Ed's rescue had been re run.
‘Oh yes. You wouldn't believe it,' said Dora, finishing her filing. 'Some had parking for two cars, let alone one. And one – it made me a bit sad, actually – had a little play area for this little girl. She was swinging away as the barge went down the waterway.'
‘Why sad?' said Tom. 'She didn't make me feel like that.'
‘I just think that life on those big barges must be quite lonely for a child. I'm an only child but I always had friends.’
Tom looked at his watch. 'Time I took you away from all this, Dora.'
‘I'll be back on Monday, I promise,' said Dora to Fred. 'I could stay now-'
‘Off you go.' Fred ushered them out of the door. 'We're getting on fine without you to boss us around.’
After quite a bit more banter about Dora's bossy ways and the men's slack attitude to office work, Tom and Dora stepped into the boat and Dora manoeuvred their way back across to the bank.
‘You're quite good at this now,' said Tom.
‘Mm. I'm getting multi-talented in my old age,' said Dora. 'Get out and make fast, would you?'
‘And you speak the language too,' said Tom, taking the line and tying it to a cast-iron ring.
‘Almost fluently. Now, what's the torture for today?’
‘You're going to eat in a restaurant by yourself.’
Dora sighed. 'That doesn't sound much fun! Surely it would be far nicer to eat together. I really don't want-’
She stopped. 'Oh, OK. It's something I should be able to do.
I'm sure you're right. I just hope you haven't chosen anywhere too scary.’
Tom suddenly frowned, staring down at the bottom of Dora's trousers. 'Mm. I don't suppose you feel like buying a pair of kecks, do you?'
‘Kecks?'
‘Shruggies, slacks, pants… trousers?’
At last Dora understood. 'You're telling me it's a problem that I've got muddy? Then why did you let us go to the boatyard? You know it's impossible to get there without getting mud on you!'
‘Sorry! Didn't think. Now, what shall we do before your dare?'
‘It's lunchtime. Surely-’
He shook his head. 'It's tea.'
‘Tea?'
‘Mm. A hot brown drink you seem to be quite fond of?'
‘I know what tea is. I just didn't-'
‘Well, you're going to. But not immediately. What would you like to do first?'
‘I can't believe you're asking me what I want to do!’
‘Am I so bossy then?'
‘Yes,' she said immediately but then realised that although he'd certainly been making her do things, he wasn't bossy in the way that John had been bossy. With John there'd been no discussion, no argument. She'd just said, 'Yes, John,' and, 'No, John,' for the sake of an easy life. And saying 'Yes, John' at the wrong time had nearly precipitated disaster. 'Let's go for a walk through London and look in shop windows and I'll see if I can find any trousers. Is the rest of me OK?’
Tom regarded her quizzically. 'I should think so.’
Dora took this as a no and determined to find a little jacket if she could. 'Seriously, are you willing to do a bit of shopping?'
‘Sure. Especially as it's my fault you have to. I'm not saying I'll sit outside the changing room and comment on every item you try on, I'll buy a paper and read it.’
Dora smiled. 'Cool!' John did not like shopping.
As they got on a bus that Tom assured her would take them to Oxford Street, Dora wondered yet again how he felt about her. There'd definitely been times when she'd thought he was looking at her with something more than the eyes of friendship but he'd never made any move. And there were times when she longed to be more like Carole. Carole would have taken the initiative by now, she was convinced. All that time at the festival and Dora had never even slipped her arm round his waist. On the other hand, an over-subscribed four-man tent was hardly conducive to seduction. She chuckled
at the notion and had to look out of the window of the bus so Tom wouldn't see.
‘Couldn't we skip the whole thing and just have a jolly time?' she said a little later as they headed down Oxford Street.
‘Come on, Dora! Where's the plucky girl who helped me rescue Ed? Eating in a restaurant on your own should be a doddle.’
His praise warmed her for a moment. 'You're just so bossy!'
‘No I'm not, I'm being your facilitator.’
She made a face. 'That's just the politically correct word for bossy.’
He shrugged, his head slightly on one side, a grin giving him a dimple at one corner of his mouth. He was far too attractive for his own good, Dora decided, and then wondered if it was her good she was worried about. There was no point in fancying someone who looked on her as a sort of kid sister.
*
'I do wish you'd told me to buy something smarter,' said Dora indignantly. They were outside a very elegant hotel in Mayfair. 'I can't go in there looking like this!' Especially not on her own, and even if Tom came with her it wouldn't have helped much.
‘Yes you can, you look fine. Anyway, it's part of the dare. Just hold your head high and ask for your table. It's booked in my name.'
‘I didn't think I'd ever say this again, but I want my mum!’
Tom laughed and it gave her the courage she needed. After all, it wasn't actually dangerous; she wouldn't really die of embarrassment.
‘If I'm thrown onto the street, Tom Watkins, I'll do something horrible to you,' she said, and went up the steps and through the door held open by a porter in a very elaborate uniform.
Instantly a beautiful young man swept up to her. 'Can I help you, mademoiselle?' he asked her in a deeply sexy voice.
‘Um – there's a table booked – the name is Watkins.’
The young man checked his book. 'Ah yes, follow me, please.' He was wearing a black-tailed coat, striped trousers and a waistcoat. He was, Dora decided, by anyone's standards, completely delicious.
He pulled out Dora's chair, spread her napkin upon her lap and handed her a menu. 'The set tea includes sandwiches, scones with jam and cream and a selection of cakes. Which kind of tea would mademoiselle prefer?' He reeled off a list of teas including several souchongs and oolongs along with the more familiar varieties.
