Starboard Home

by Cressida McLaughlin

  Ryder started climbing a black metal fire escape stuck to the outside of the building, and there was an obvious pause from everyone below.

  ‘Oh, come on, guys,’ he said. ‘This is legit, I promise!’ She couldn’t see them in the dull light of the alleyway, but Summer knew his eyes would be twinkling.

  Ralph was first to ascend, followed by Doug and Claire, then Summer dragging Mason, and Jas taking up the rear. Once through the heavy metal door, they followed Ryder along several corridors with black walls, until they emerged into a huge room that, in complete contrast, was painted white – the walls and ceiling, even the floorboards. The lighting was low, there were benches around the edge of the room and a few modern-looking curved armchairs. Large cushions in red, blue and yellow were dotted about on the floor, which still left an expansive, empty space in the middle of the room. They were the only ones in there, apart from a tall woman with red curls standing behind a well-stocked bar.

  ‘What is this place?’ Jas asked.

  ‘It’s all ours for the night,’ Ryder said, walking backwards, arms wide. ‘Our own space in London. What do you think?’

  ‘Have you kidnapped it?’ Doug asked. ‘Why did we come up the fire escape?’

  Ryder laughed, tapping the side of his nose. ‘It’s incredible, right?’

  Uncertainty seemed to be the overriding emotion as everyone gazed around them, unsure why this few people needed such a big space to themselves. Summer wouldn’t be dancing, that was for sure – there would be absolutely nowhere to hide.

  ‘Drinks, people.’ Ryder clapped his hands impatiently. ‘And then … storytelling. I’ve missed our sessions, pubs and clubs are far too loud. This place is perfect.’

  Once they all had a drink – Mason overjoyed to discover that there was ale on tap – they settled themselves in a makeshift circle around a small table, and from somewhere, the lights were turned down even lower, the room plunged into an approximation of a séance setting.

  ‘Who’s going to start us off?’ Ryder asked, leaning back on his cushion.

  Summer stayed quiet. When she’d taken part before, all those months ago, the crowd had been much bigger, full of people she didn’t know, and so it had felt more anonymous. She was strangely embarrassed at the thought of spinning a yarn about ghosts – or anything else for that matter – in front of a small group of close friends.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Jas said. ‘I’ve got a goody.’

  ‘Jas, my man. Start us off.’

  Jas settled himself on his seat, opened his mouth and then paused, his eyes lingering on each of them in turn. It built the anticipation, Summer knew. She was already itching to hear what he had to say.

  He started speaking, his voice smooth and steady. ‘Imagine if someone you thought you knew turned out to be hiding a dark secret. Imagine if they’d been lying to you about who they were the entire time. A beautiful woman with long dark hair, milky skin, deep, chocolate eyes. She’s confident and fun, sometimes a little flirty.’ He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ryder and then Mason. ‘She encourages a friend of hers to make a trip, to travel across country and to bring all her friends, make a week of it. It’s nearly Christmas, the canal looks stunning at this time of year and no, there’s absolutely no chance of it freezing over, trapping them all.’

  There was a smattering of laughter at this, and Summer could see that everyone – mostly everyone – was enjoying this bizarre tale. Claire, however, looked on edge. Summer tried to catch her eye, but her friend ignored her.

  Jas continued.

  ‘It all seems innocent enough. She joins them for drinks, visits their boats, maybe even buys some of the gifts they’re selling. She’s friendly – perhaps a little too friendly in some cases, but it’s nice to reconnect with old friends, especially at this time of year. There are some photos taken in a club one night. A blogger puts them on his blog, talks about his trip to London, the latest adventures of a man, his boat and his dog. Lots of the comments he’s read before, followers checking in, recounting their own stories, it’s standard stuff. But then one person notices the woman, comments that he’s seen her before somewhere, and asks what the blogger knows about her. The blogger knows very little. He says as much, and the matter is dropped for a day or two.

  ‘But then this person comments again, saying they can’t ignore it any longer. They’re a liveaboard too, though in a different part of the country. He knows who this woman is, in fact she got to know a friend of his, made out she was interested in him and then accused him of selling stolen goods. She took his friend’s boat apart, then called in the police, who arrested him. She is, he suggests, working undercover on England’s waterways, and that any close acquaintance with her should not be taken at face value.

  ‘The blogger is unnerved, but not entirely convinced. He doesn’t know this commenter personally, and it could be a case of sour grapes, of bitterness from this man whose friend was targeted, or someone simply winding him up. He trusts his friends, but wonders if they really know that much about the woman that has appeared in their lives quite suddenly, inviting them down to London, turning up when she was supposed to be visiting family elsewhere. The blogger wonders what he should do; he is unsure. Who is weaving him the story? This woman, who he has spent evenings with, or the follower, one of thousands who comment on his blog, who he doesn’t know from Adam? And if this man’s story is true, and his friend was arrested, doesn’t that mean he must have been guilty of selling stolen goods? It’s a quandary, and one he has no idea how to solve.’

  Jas sat back, taking a long, slow sip of his drink.

  Nobody applauded.

  Summer felt a shudder run down her spine. She looked at Mason. He was frowning, his fingers pressed to his lips.

  Ryder grinned, unable to hide his delight at the turn of events. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said, his voice thick with smugness.

  ‘Jas,’ Claire said, ‘what the fuck? You’re talking about Tania, right? This is all true?’

  Jas shrugged, looking suddenly sheepish. ‘I don’t know, that’s the thing. But that’s what someone on my blog said. That his friend was investigated by her last year, that she’s undercover, looking for anything illegal on the waterways. He could be stirring, could just be causing trouble, but I – what do you think? You’ve known her longer than any of us.’

  Claire opened her mouth, glanced at Mason. ‘God, I – I don’t know. She worked for the Canal and River Trust when I first knew her a few years ago, but as a licensing officer, nothing like this. Since we’ve been reacquainted, she hasn’t mentioned anything. Come to think of it, when I asked her what she did she dodged the question, said something vague about starting up her own business.’

  ‘You think she’d have a better cover story if she was undercover,’ Ralph said.

  ‘So she’s been investigating us?’ Doug asked. ‘What on earth for?’

  Claire turned to Mason. ‘She’s not said anything to you, has she?’

  Mason rubbed his forehead. ‘No, nothing that would tie in to what Jas is saying. She mentioned this new business, like you said, but only told me it was at the very early stages, and didn’t go into any detail. I honestly had no idea, but then, until we arrived here, I hadn’t seen her for years either.’

  ‘Why would she be investigating us, though?’ Doug asked again. ‘And was it just opportunistic, because we were here, or was it planned?’

  There were noncommittal murmurs round the room, and Ryder went to replenish everyone’s drinks. Summer knew he’d be loving this, everyone getting tied up in knots. She tried to recall the conversations she’d had with Tania, and remembered telling her about selling Norman’s carvings. The profit Norman made on them would be tiny, and she’d never spoken to him about registering with the tax office, leaving it up to him how he ran that side of things. But would tax issues fall into her remit? Were those the kind of illegalities Tania was worried about? She realized she was chewing her fingernail and sat on her hands to stop herself.<
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  ‘She invited us down here,’ Claire said, her voice unusually small. ‘She phoned me up and suggested we could have a week selling our stuff in Little Venice. She’d already booked us the moorings. At the time I thought she was just being enthusiastic, happy that she could help. She said she wouldn’t be here herself this week; that she’d be in Oxford for the whole of December. Then she turned up on that first night, but I didn’t see anything suspicious in it. I just assumed her plans had changed, or that she’d decided she wanted to see Mason again after all.’ She shook her head. ‘God, what a fool I am.’

  ‘We don’t know that this is true. As Jas says, his reader could be stirring the pot.’ Ralph put his palms flat on the table.

  ‘But now I think about it, it seems weird,’ Claire said. ‘And the first time I saw her again, when she appeared on my boat in the spring, she was happy to see me, sure, but she asked a lot about all you guys, the other boats I was travelling with.’

  Ryder sauntered over from the bar, putting drinks on the table. ‘She invited herself back to my boat the other night. When the canal froze over.’

  Everyone stared at him.

  He shrugged. ‘She said she’d love to see it, even though I told her the best she’d get was a sleeping bag on the floor.’

  ‘Or a four-star hotel room,’ Jas said, resurrecting the joke that while Ryder claimed to live a simple, uncomplicated life there were rumours that he didn’t actually sleep on board cabin-less The Wanderer’s Rest at all, but found a luxurious hotel every night. This time, nobody laughed.

  ‘She still went with you?’ Doug asked.

  ‘Yeah, she did. And then the moment we were on the boat, she became as coy as you like, despite some world-class flirting in the bar. She wandered round, saying it was such an unusual boat, asking me about my business, what kind of things I sold.’

  ‘And what did you tell her?’ Summer asked. Ryder’s business had never been easy to pin down, and she’d always thought he was opportunistic, selling whatever was going, whatever he thought he could make a profit on. She had no idea if that stretched to illegal goods, though.

  ‘I told her the truth,’ Ryder said. ‘That I trade in anything and everything. Whatever comes my way, and seems right at the time. I don’t hold a lot of stock, and my sources are varied, depending on where along the waterways we happen to be. She left soon after that, the air no longer charged with sex.’ He raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Now everything’s beginning to make sense. Asking how much profit I make and what I spend it on didn’t seem like great foreplay at the time. She wanted to find out if my merchandise was dodgy, and left frustrated in more than one sense.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ Claire spat. ‘What a sneaky, sneaky cow. Drawing us in like that, inviting us down here, making total fools of us while she checked out how above board we are. Like a viper.’

  ‘Steady on,’ Doug said.

  ‘It could all be a misunderstanding,’ Ralph agreed.

  ‘It does feel like it’s all slotting into place, though,’ Jas said quietly. Summer felt sorry for him, for the fact that he’d unleashed this on them all, but it was the right thing to do. She wondered how Mason felt, discovering that Tania had been tricking them. He was keeping quiet, sipping his drink, watching the drama unfold.

  ‘So, begs the question,’ Ryder said, leaning back on one elbow. ‘What are we going to do about it?’

  ‘Confront her,’ Claire replied immediately. ‘Tomorrow night, at the pub. Find out the truth. Nobody’s been challenged, so she clearly hasn’t found out anything bad about any of us – not that there’s anything to find.’

  ‘Maybe she’s biding her time?’ Doug suggested.

  ‘Not any longer.’ Claire shook her head. ‘Not now we know what she’s up to.’

  The storytelling session limped on for a while, but it was clear nobody was in the mood and they finished early. When Jas started walking towards the fire escape, Ryder called him back.

  ‘Come on, we can go out via the main stairs. This way.’

  ‘What?’ Summer asked. ‘What do you mean “main stairs”? What about the crazy fire escape you brought us up earlier?’

  ‘Oh that,’ Ryder dismissed her confused look with a wave. ‘This is their function room; I hired it out for us tonight. Technically we shouldn’t have been using the fire escape – it was just to add a sense of drama to proceedings.’

  ‘Yeah well,’ Ralph said, patting Ryder on the shoulder. ‘I think it was Jas who managed that on this occasion, don’t you?’

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Summer asked Mason as they took Archie and Latte for a quick walk before bed. The towpath was glittering once more, the break in the weather Mason had predicted showing no signs of materializing, and the dogs yipped and snuffled at lampposts and hedges, the scents of other animals harder to pick up in the cold.

  ‘I’m thinking that I don’t know Tania well enough to be surprised. I want to know why she’s been investigating us, if she’s found anything illegal in any of the businesses, though from the indignation tonight, it doesn’t sound like anyone’s worried. Not even Ryder seemed bothered, but maybe that’s because he thinks he’s invincible.’

  ‘So you don’t feel let down by her?’

  ‘I don’t feel enough for her to be let down by her. We’ve laid our demons to rest. If she’s making a living this way then good for her. But I wish she hadn’t targeted our friends, I’m angry on Claire’s behalf because she thought Tania was trying to build bridges, and to use their old relationship as a way to get closer to an investigation is cynical.’

  ‘What about her flirting with you, though? The way she behaved in the café? Maybe that was part of it, pretending to still have feelings for you as an excuse for hanging around. That – as well as her friendship with Claire, it just all seems so false.’

  Mason put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. ‘It looks like she’s going to get her comeuppance though. Maybe we should get some popcorn in for the boxing match tomorrow night?’ He grimaced. ‘I was lucky that by the time Claire knew I’d walked out on Tania all those years ago, me and The Sandpiper were far, far away. I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of her anger, that’s for sure.’

  ‘No,’ Summer agreed. Genuine, white-hot anger from Claire would not be pretty. ‘Neither would I.’

  Chapter Eight

  The following evening, after she’d shut down the café, and while Mason was working on his article, Summer took Archie and Latte for a long walk. It might have been her imagination, but she didn’t think the air was quite so biting as it had been, her lips and nose not going numb quite so quickly. The parks closed around dusk, but the dogs were happy enough trotting along the towpath; there was enough to keep their senses occupied, and Mason had tired them out earlier by spending a couple of hours with them in Regent’s Park, at one point – he’d told her – threatening Archie with becoming a zoo exhibit when he dug someone’s ancient towel out of the bushes and refused to let it go. Summer could picture Mason and his dog having a tug-of-war in the middle of one of London’s most popular parks, and the image brought a smile to her face.

  But this walk was for her more than the dogs. So much had happened since they’d arrived in London; their week-long, Christmas selling spree had been a lot less straightforward than she had imagined it would be, and she wondered if, had she had an inkling of all that was ahead, she would have agreed to come at all. But then she thought of Mason and the harrier sighting, their conversation in the patisserie as they tried to thaw out, and knew she wouldn’t change anything. Archie wrapped his lead around a lamppost chasing a leaf skeleton, and Summer crouched, unwinding it carefully while he waited, Latte snuffling her nose into Summer’s hand, looking for a treat. Summer took a couple out of her pocket and gave them each one. They kept walking.

  She loved looking at the other narrowboats moored up to the towpath, their different names and paintwork, the snippets of liveaboard home life she could see through port
holes and windows when the curtains hadn’t yet been drawn.

  There was a cream boat with pale green trim called Ulysses, that had the most subtle white fairy lights trailed along the roof. There was Dorothy, painted with horizontal rainbow stripes. She wondered if they had a Toto on board, or if the wooden floor running throughout the cabin was painted to look like yellow brick. There was a Kingfisher and a Windcheater and a Fair Maiden, and there was a boat that, earlier in their trip, had been covered with plants – along the roof as well as on both decks. Now, with such freezing weather, all the plants were probably inside. In elaborate grass-green script on a pale yellow background was written The Flower Shop on the Canal.

  She knew whose boat was next. It was painted a duck-egg blue with fuchsia trim, and was called Persephone. She wondered why Tania had picked that name, or if she’d simply bought it like that, and hadn’t wanted to go through the rigmarole of renaming it, as Summer had done with her café. Or perhaps, she thought uncharitably, Tania liked having a boat named after the queen of the underworld. Archie and Latte were straining at their leashes, unhappy with Summer’s dawdling, and she picked up her pace.

  Summer almost felt sorry for Tania.

  She was meeting them in the pub later – Claire had sent her a text earlier that day simply saying: It’s on! So Mason would get his boxing match, though she knew he was being flippant, and felt as uneasy about the whole thing as she did. Tania had been a thorn in her side ever since they’d arrived in Little Venice; a thorn created by her fears that Mason’s past would come back to haunt them, by her own insecurities, and by Tania’s intimidating behaviour, the suggestion that, if she felt inclined, Mason could still be hers for the taking.

  He had put her fears to rest, but Tania certainly hadn’t made the trip easy. And if what Jas had said was true, and she’d been friendly with them all simply to try and nail one of them for illegal practices, if her flirting with Mason had been part of her cover, didn’t she have a right to be angry with her, as Claire was? But she didn’t feel angry, she just felt weary. She wanted everything Tania-shaped to be put behind them, so they could get on with their lives. Despite the feelings she’d had about Mason’s ex when she’d first reappeared, Summer wasn’t looking forward to the showdown at all.