by Paisley Ray
“Hey, I take offense to that.” I’d actually become fond of the bedazzled mollusk and liked wearing it. Gifted to Walzy, I believed the numbers engraved inside were a clue to something cherished.
“Rachael, your grandmother is hiding something from you and in doing so there’s potential danger.”
“You’re being dramatic and overly sensitive.”
“Take your blinders off. If your grandmother didn’t have anything to hide, Edmond wouldn’t be detained. Unless it was all a giant ruse for them to be alone.”
I didn’t like the abrupt twist this Euro trip had taken either, but didn’t appreciate my traveling companion’s bluntness. “My grandmother has had an adventurous life. Whatever’s going on may not even involve jewelry. And GG and Edmond. Please.”
“She’s into something.” He pointed to the bills on the counter, “Something that involves cash and is probably illegal.”
A wind gust skittered the boat and a window clonked open, letting rain slip in. I scurried to close it. “You’re off base. GG is a good person. She probably has outbid and pissed off a lot of ego-driven collectors, and I’m guessing Ahmed or his employer could be one of them. There’s no conspiracy behind the brooch,” I said, my voice squeaking as I turned away.
Swallowing hard to soothe the dryness in my throat, I could feel Travis’s eyes on my back and listened as he bit into the apple. Let him stare. If he continued this inquisition of my family, especially the one who paid for this trip, this would be the only side he’d see of me.
NOTE TO SELF
Oyster magnetism. Travis and I are not feeling it for one another!
CHAPTER 15
Foggy Cronies
So neither of us would develop freezer burn, Travis and I took turns driving the boat. I’d assumed the captain position and motored us past the drenched English scenery, made up of tree lined bands, and some impressive homes. Sporadically scattered islands in the middle of the river—the size of a couple of tennis courts—hosted squawking bird chatter. The current quickened and by the time we passed through the lock at the East Molesey Cricket Club, my mind had charred like a slice of Wonder Bread, toasted on a nine setting. Conversation between us fell off the cliff with neither of us divulging more than a few words about the weather. I’ll admit it, I was angry at my inner circle: at GG for being so cryptic, at Edmond for being detained, at Travis for having a valid point, and mostly at myself for not demanding solid answers ages ago.
We’d docked at a marina and re-fueled Her Grace. For four pounds, we were able to use the showers and toilets in the back of the single-story waterside gas station. Once we’d refueled the boat and ourselves, we were left with only enough energy to consume dinner out of the refrigerator. After a quick bite, the steady lapping of water on the hull lulled me to sleep. The last I’d noticed of Travis, he was holding a flashlight to a map of London on the opposite end of the cabin.
QUACKING PULLED ME OUT of my slumber. Tunneling beneath the patchwork quilt did little to stifle the rogue ducks that lurked on the grassy berm. Eyes pinched shut, I thrashed around, curled into a ball, and stuffed a pillow over my head in an attempt to fade back into sleep. It was no use, I was awake. I’d slept within reach of the golden oyster. Opening and closing it, I wished something useful would spark inside my head.
Morning pressed on and the shadows in the cabin brightened to gray. Travis wasn’t in the bed with me, but I could hear his breathing rise and fall on the other side of the cabin. A flashlight lay next to me and I shone it on the lump that had fallen asleep on an encased cushion that during the day was used as bench seating. The space inside the boat was the size of my dorm room, with a toilet in a closet. Its paper-thin doors that touched your knees when you sat didn’t offer much of a sound barrier, or leave much to the imagination.
Throwing the covers off, I cringed at the crisp air that chilled all my toasty bits. Scooping the quilt around myself, I tiptoed into the kitchenette and turned on the burner under a pan of water. It made a rapid click, click, click. I bit my lip as though my teeth could quiet the noisy stove.
“Make a cup for me, will you?”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
Fully clothed, Travis sat up. Rubbing his head, he blinked as he adjusted his eyes to the gloom.
I reached for a battery-powered lantern that hung on a hook above the sink and twisted it on.
“The ducks woke me.”
Travis tucked the corners of the bedding into the frame before moving to a kitchen stool to join me.
“So what do you want to do?” I asked.
“About what?”
“This trip. We have enough money to bail. We could call my dad and…”
“Why would we do that?”
Pouring hot water into mugs, I shrugged. “It’s just that I feel bad, dragging you into my family’s dysfunction.”
“Rach, I’m sorry I railed on about your grandmother. It’s not your fault.”
“So what should we do?”
Travis wrapped his hands around his mug. “It’s freezing in here.” Moving to the cushioned bench he’d remade, he pulled the notebook out of a cubby. “I’ve been looking at the maps. We can be in London by late afternoon. There are docks where we can moor by Blackfriars Underpass. After that we backtrack to the Oxford Canal on our way to Stratford.”
I stirred a sugar pack and splashed milk into my tea. “And do what in London?”
“See a few sights. There’s always Buckingham Palace and we didn’t visit any portrait galleries.”
“You want to follow my grandmother’s itinerary?”
“We could.”
I sipped my tea. What could be the harm in taking in a few tourist sights?
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“There’s bacon and eggs in the refrigerator.”
“So breakfast, then off to London?” he suggested.
Pulling out a carton of brown eggs, I nodded.
Travis spun the brooch on the counter. I stared at him. Our eyes locked. “Do you want to visit Garrard’s or Asprey?”
This was his apology.
Adrenaline inside me pulsed. Pushing my tea aside, I opened the notebook. Next to it, I laid out a map of London.
“Ask around about amethysts? Get the brooch appraised?”
“GG said the associate at Asprey had an accident. In the margin she jotted, Garrard’s on Regent Street.”
“Does Garrads sell amethysts?” Travis asked.
“I don’t know. But GG thought it was worth a visit. That’s where her friend Sonny works.”
Travis separated the bacon while I scrambled the eggs. “So we’ll set off to meet Sonny after we eat?”
The face of my Swatch glowed nearly seven, but outside gray hadn’t broken. Voices could be heard from other boats docked around us. “I need a few supplies from the marina store before we set off.”
“Is that a sneaky ploy to get me to cook breakfast?”
“I’d like new underwear. I’m wearing a pair I found in a cubby.”
He waved a spatula. “Go.”
“Do you need anything?” I asked, wondering what he was doing about essentials.
Reaching into the refrigerator, I found the Tupperware container and snagged a stack of notes. “I’ll be quick.”
THE SKY SPIT A light drizzle and a fog that hovered on the bank floated in layers above the Thames. Walking across wooden dock planks I could only see the boats as I passed them. The ducks that had sounded off earlier had disappeared. A short walk up a slope, I stepped inside the marina a store light glowed.
“Thick fog on her this morning. Moving on today, are ya?” the store clerk questioned.
“We plan on it. Our boat is Her Grace.”
She looked in a file. “Balance is thirty pounds.”
I counted out the money and she handed me a receipt.
“Where you headed?”
“London.”
“American, eh?”
; I nodded.
“Once the weather clears, it’s a beautiful cruise.”
Before leaving, I nabbed a pack of underwear, a toothbrush and paste. Outside the shop, I noticed that the misty haze settled heavy on the river. Gravel in the parking lot crunched under my feet and a waft of nicotine-scented air made me envious. I tried not to smoke around Travis too much and even though it was before breakfast, I wished I’d brought the pack of Pall Mall’s with me. There weren’t many cars parked and the few in the lot were compacts except a Ford transit van at the far end whose motor ran. Two men huddled at the sliding side door, smoking cigarettes. I watched them inhale and considered going back inside the marina supply to buy a pack. Turning a corner outside the store, something pinged inside my head. Back-stepping my paces, I took another look. Both men were dressed in long leather coats. Not the kind of apparel associated with boating. Through the mist, they vaguely stared in the direction of the marina store and something about them registered a familiarity.
My feet moved like I was being timed and without stopping, I sprinted toward the river. A few boats had interior lights on, but most were still dark.
Plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and orange juice were laid out on a table. “Perfect timing.”
Slumping in the bench seat, I lowered my head toward my knees in an attempt to catch my breath.
“Is the tab settled?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I wheezed.
Travis tucked into his eggs. “Can’t see much out there. We should wait until the fog lifts to set off.”
I paced the cabin.
“What’s gotten into you?”
Ignoring my breakfast plate, I moved to the far end and sat by the windows that had a view of the land. “There are two guys in the parking lot.”
Travis’s fork rested on his plate.
“I’ve seen them before.”
“At The Oakley?”
I shook my head. “No, everyone there was in costume.”
“At the museum or the Tower?”
“No.”
“Ahmed?”
“No, not him, thank God”
“You’re just freaking yourself out.”
“I am not! The two men from the Red Lion pub are here. We’ve gotta go.”
NOTE TO SELF
No way this is coincidence. Do I have a sign on my back that says, “Hey, follow me?!”
CHAPTER 16
London Toils
Despite the fog, Travis untied the line and we pushed off. I guess I acted distraught enough to be believable. As soon as we left the marina I felt safer. Moving no further than a few hundred yards, visibility was limited to a hand in front of your face and we moored near an uninhabited island. Travis slid a mug into my hand. Resting on top of the cabin with our cabooses in deck chairs we snuggled down under blankets and waited for either the fog to lift or someone to kick us out of their slip.
“You have to be mistaken.”
Cradling the warm porcelain cup in my palms, I watched the steam merge into the mist. “It was them. I know it.”
“How can you be so sure? It’s been days since you spotted those two across the bar. And we were buzzed.”
“You were the one buzzed.”
“Rachael, you don’t have anything concrete. They didn’t corner you, try to stuff you in their car trunk or chase you down.”
“That’s because I had enough sense to hightail myself out of there before they spotted me.”
“Typical Rachael, panic and bolt before you know what you’re up against.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a little more cautious than most. And just maybe that’s because I’ve had sausage fingers wrapped about my neck, been chased through a New Orleans cemetery by a drunken Santa with a knife, and had an M-80 whiz over my head before it blew a toilet off a wall.”
A dog bark echoed from somewhere on shore. Gazing in the distance, I noticed the outlines of homes begin to take shape.
Travis put a hand on my knee. “Since the Billy Ray thing and all, you’re probably more skittish about things.”
A grimace fell on my face. I’d worked hard to forget that incident. “I know you’re trying to be considerate, but please drop the Billy Ray thing.”
“Sorry. I’m just saying there hasn’t been any actual harm done to us. We’re both acting like we’re on the run and I’m not sure we should be. Let’s just try to enjoy the journey and not panic.”
My shoulders relaxed and a partial smile crept onto my lips. “I think the weather’s starting to lift. I’ll start the engine if you untie the line.”
Leaning in, he wrapped me in his arms. “We’ll have fun boating to London, take in some sights, make a few inquiries, find a department store, and buy some clothes.”
I fit perfectly under his arms. “That sounds nice.”
“Let’s eat out in London. You pick. And tonight we’ll get a good night’s sleep.”
Maybe as a safety precaution I should suggest sharing the same bed again.
Nearing the bottom of my mug, I wondered if Travis had a point. Why was I so rattled? It was possible that I was mistaken, imagining I was being followed. Maybe spending a day on the river in good company would release the tightness wound in my neck. I lifted my chin. Travis’s eyes were dreamy pools of dark syrup. I ran my hands up the zipper of his jacket. “Aye aye, captain.”
Pulling me close, he kissed the top of my head. “O’Brien, where did I ever find you?”
I didn’t bother to mention that I’d found him.
FOR THE FIRST TIME on the trip, sunshine warmed the deck. Not exactly the get-a-tan kind, but more streams of sun that splayed through broken clouds. Mirroring the sky, the river transformed from bleak and murky to glistening with clusters of pond grasses and water reeds showing off their green and brown undertones. Passing through towns with names like Twickenham, and under bridges called Hammersmith, Chelsea, and Vauxhall all sounded storybook perfect.
I sat on deck cross-legged. My eyes grazed the passing landscape, old buildings—Gothic, Baroque, and new Modern high rises. Everything stood close, a sea of building materials covered by pitched roofs. Except for the bridges we went beneath, traffic noises were inaudible, drowned by the rhythm of the motor and the churn of water.
But, as we neared the Waterloo Bridge, the River Thames widened and boat traffic began to clog our path. I knew we were close to our destination, Blackfriar Pass. Being on a boat felt confined and I looked forward to stretching my legs on land. “Slow down. Our dock is just before the next bridge.”
A tourist riverboat cruised so close to us that I could hear the script, “The Hayward and the Strand galleries are a five-minute walk. Trafalgar Square, the London Dungeon a ten-minute stroll. The Waterloo Bridge’s name is in memory of the Anglo-Dutch and Prussian victory at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. Thanks to its location at a strategic bend in the river, the views of London from the bridge are in my opinion the finest.”
Travis pointed.
I nodded.
Dwarfed by the city, a set of docks blended in with the shoreline. I wouldn’t have spotted our stop except for a building that had Bankside Pier painted across it. After two days of navigating currents between channels and locks, Travis had a feel for Her Grace, and adjusting for wind and current, he maneuvered the tiller and throttle toward an empty slip.
A man in ripped jeans starting shouting, “You can’t leave your vessel here. This is a private dock.”
Travis cut the engine.
“We have a reservation,” I shouted. “Geneva McCarty booked a slip for Her Grace.”
Removing a brown tweed flat cap from his head, he scratched sparse pieces of blond hair. “Throw me a line.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Securing the ropes in front and back, he motioned a hand. “Wait here, while I check with the gaffer.”
“Rachael, what if we get booted from here? We’re on a quarter of a tank.”
I started closing cabin windows. After
slipping the oyster brooch into an inside pocket of my jacket, I counted four hundred pounds and handed a portion to Travis. “If we can’t stay, we’ll have to ask where we can get fuel and a dock for the night.”
A clanging bell tolled. Besides our boat docking, there wasn’t any late afternoon activity under the shadows of the Blackfriars Bridge.
Planks around the slip creaked and the fellow with the cap returned. “You’re all set.” He held a clipboard. “Just need a signature.”
“What do we owe you?”
“All been pre-paid. We’ll get you some fresh water, groceries, flush the sanitation tank, and re-fuel her before you depart. Is there anything else you’ll be needing?”
I tinkered with the eye of Horus I wore around my neck. “Clothing, food, a shower, and serious luck.”
The dockhand scratched his bearded chin.
Travis gripped my elbow and guided me onto the dock. “Can we get a taxi from here?”
LONDON’S GOT EVERYTHING. Not ten miles beyond Victoria’s Embankment, where we’d caught our taxi, we hit the jackpot: a Marks and Spencer department store. Travis agreed on a forty-minute time limit to find and purchase all the clothes and underwear we needed to get through the boat trip. I finished shopping in thirty, and found him drooling over a Barbour jacket that he claimed was to die for. The price tag popped my eyes wide. Tugging his arm, I dragged him away. “Let’s get to Regent Street before the shops close.”
“What’s the rush? There’s still tomorrow.”
“Let’s get all the shopping and jewelry inquires over with. Tomorrow, we can be tourists.”
“I can’t believe your grandmother sent us up the river without our luggage. Some of my favorite clothes were packed. I hope she didn’t leave it behind at The Oakley.”
My feet locked. “Let’s call the front desk.”
He pulled my arm. “Call and ask to have our luggage delivered?”
I shook loose. “Exactly.”
