by Leo McNeir
“Good afternoon, madam,” he said. “I’ve come to read the gas meter.”
*
Lunch started with grilled tiger prawns in a coulis of red pepper and cayenne, followed by an asparagus and lemon risotto that looked bland but tasted superb. The wine was Sancerre, the dessert fresh pineapple. An unspoken question hung over the table throughout the meal.
“I expect you’re both wondering what’s come over me, producing something like this for a Tuesday lunch. Anyone care to guess?” There were no takers. “Well, I’ve decided what needs to be done with Anthony.”
“Does it involve a phone call to Sicily?” said Ralph.
Anne sniggered. “We’ve got bags of cement in the yard.” She caught Marnie’s expression. “Sorry.”
Marnie smiled to reassure them. “Simon put an idea into my head, so I explained it to Beth on the phone.”
“She thought it was a good idea?” said Ralph.
“No. She said she thought it was rather crazy ... well, actually completely crazy. So I knew it had to be all right.”
“So what is this good-if-rather-completely-crazy idea?” said Ralph.
“Well, it’s obvious that Anthony can’t stay here any longer and he has to go.” Anne and Ralph nodded. “The question is, where to?”
“Seems reasonable so far,” said Ralph.
At that moment the mobile rang. It was Dr Greenman from Nottingham.
Ralph took the call outside, walking up and down on the bank for some minutes. While he was away, Marnie and Anne cleared the table and washed the dishes. Marnie outlined her idea to Anne.
Ralph was still talking to Dr Greenman when he walked over to Sally Ann and tapped on the galley window, pointing down the canal. Marnie came up onto the stern deck to see Totteridge and Shardlow approaching in line astern.
*
The council of war was held in the saloon on Sally Ann. The participants were the home crew of Marnie, Ralph and Anne, plus Anthony, Andrew and Kate, all bunched together in the cramped space.
Marnie began. “Sorry there’s not much room, but I wanted us to have privacy. The fact is – and we all know this – the present situation can’t go on any longer. I want to suggest a way out. It’s quite simple, even rather obvious, but we’ve got to do it now.” While she was speaking, she picked up her mobile phone and switched it off.
“My idea depends on the goodwill of more than just myself and my immediate friends. I have a favour to ask of you, Andrew and Kate, a big favour.”
Andrew’s eyes flickered towards Kate and then back to Marnie. “How long would it be for?” he said.
Marnie shrugged. “That’s hard to say just now. A few weeks, maybe.”
Anthony looked confused. “How long would what be, exactly?” he said, sitting upright in the chair.
It was Andrew who replied. “Does it matter where we take him?”
“Just your normal itinerary,” said Marnie.
“Take him?” said Anthony. “You mean me?”
“What do you think, love?” Andrew said to Kate.
“Up to you,” she replied quietly. “I’ll go along with whatever you want.”
“Hang on,” Anthony said, agitated. “You’re talking about me here. What about my opinion?”
“I think,” said Marnie, “we’ve got beyond that point now. It’s more than just about you. You’ve found it hard to make up your mind. Now it’s our turn.”
Anthony sat back in the chair. “So what are you saying?”
“Let me spell it out for you,” Marnie began. “The plan is to get you out of the way, to somewhere your privacy will be safeguarded. My idea is that you travel with Andrew and Kate for a while. It’ll get you out of our way, which is a selfish motive I know. But sooner or later the police will come back, and we can’t guarantee they won’t find you. They’ve been once; they’ll come again. The press could do the same.”
“So I’ve got to go into hiding and be confined in that cabin for several weeks. Is that your plan, a sort of floating prison?”
“Not at all.”
“No?” said Andrew.
“No. Anthony will become a member of your crew. He’ll work with you, doing the things you normally do. In return, you’ll provide him with a place to stay. He can contribute towards food and so on. I’ll leave the details for you to work out, if you can agree to the plan, that is. Remember, it is only an idea. If you don’t want to do it, Andrew, then that’s fair enough.”
“Wait a minute,” said Anthony. “If I’m working on a boat delivering coal and so on, people will see me. I’ll be recognised.”
“I don’t think so,” Ralph joined in. “Marnie’s got a point. People will see you, yes. Or rather, they’ll see a man working on a boat. They won’t be expecting to see Anthony Leyton-Brown MP.”
“Whether they’re expecting it or not, they’ll see me, and chances are, someone will recognise me sooner or later. It’s inevitable.”
“Not with a beard, they won’t,” said Marnie. “Not when you’re wearing scruffy jeans and an old jumper.”
“Beard? I’ve never had a beard in my life and I don’t –”
“You’ve got one now,” Kate pointed out. “Almost.” Anthony ran a hand over his face, where three days’ growth was already stubbling his jawline.
They digested the plan in silence. Anne pulled one of the newspapers towards her and studied the face in the photos, comparing it with the man sitting opposite her.
“You think this could work?” said Anthony. He was more subdued than before.
“Got any better ideas?” said Marnie.
“Actually,” Ralph began. “I was going to make a suggestion ... in some ways similar. I was going to offer my cottage in Murton, near Oxford, as a refuge. It’s quite secluded.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Anthony.
Ralph shook his head. “Marnie’s plan is better. As soon as the press realise I’m in the frame, someone might use their initiative and track you down. These people are tenacious and desperate to get their teeth into you. Don’t underestimate them.”
“What happens to my boat?” said Anthony.
Marnie nodded. “I’ll check with Queen Eleanor. But I don’t think that’ll be a problem ... at least not while their boats are out on hire over the summer. We’ll worry about that later.”
“I don’t quite know what to say.” Anthony sounded as if he meant it.
Marnie said, “Don’t think about it. It isn’t your call.”
*
While Ralph drove to Queen Eleanor boatyard to collect some of Anthony’s belongings, the crew of Totteridge and Shardlow took it in turns to use the shower in the office barn.
Marnie and Anne tried to get back to work, but concentration was difficult with so much else to plan. Eventually they gave up in the office and turned on the answerphone. Marnie filled the water tanks on both boats from the tap in Sally Ann’s docking area. Anne helped Kate to clear out the cabin on Totteridge to make room for Anthony.
Leaving Kate to finish off, Anne walked over to Marnie, “I think he’s really lucky to have you planning this for him.”
“He’s more lucky that Andrew’s willing to go along with the idea. There’s no reason why he should, after all. It’s quite an imposition.”
“I suppose so. Marnie, I’ve had a thought ... about Anthony’s appearance.”
*
That evening, the docking area of Glebe Farm looked like a wharf from times past. Ralph and Andrew had made several trips through the spinney, carrying Anthony’s belongings from the Volvo. He stowed them in the boatman’s cabin on Totteridge. The supplies included two cases of wine. Meanwhile, Marnie prepared a supper of hot soup and a buffet of cold meats and cheeses that they ate sitting at tables on the bank. There was an almost festive air, and the backdrop of boats, canal and trees, with candles in glass jars, brought a theatrical atmosphere to the scene.
Anthony donated two bottles of Burgundy to the meal. It was li
ke a celebration on the eve of a pleasant voyage. For the first time in weeks, Anthony was out in the open, visible to anyone who passed by on the canal. Shortly before eating, he had changed into a collarless denim shirt and dark blue jeans and disappeared with Marnie to the office barn. He emerged twenty minutes later as a new man, his hair very short, a number one crop all over. Towelling it dry, Anthony appeared before them as almost a skinhead. Kate completed the effect by tying a red neckerchief round his throat. A total transformation.
During the meal, they laid their plans. Marnie insisted that Anthony leave his mobile behind, and she removed the sim-card to prevent it being traced to Knightly St John. He would now be known simply as Tony, with no surname and no explanations. None would be expected on the waterways.
Gradually, the group became more relaxed and Anthony – Tony – settled comfortably into his new persona. To the few boats that passed that evening, they looked like a group of old friends. The surprise of the evening was Kate. Ralph brought her into the conversation out of politeness, asking about her interests. She muttered about helping Andrew, but he replied, with a degree of pride in his voice, that she was an artist, a graduate of the Royal College of Art no less, and a specialist in portrait painting.
“She’s too modest to admit it, but I reckon she’s a genius,” he declared.
*
As night came down, the docking area at the edge of the spinney had returned to normal. Looking out from the stern doors on Thyrsis, Marnie wondered whether normality had featured on the Glebe Farm agenda since her arrival. But for now at least they looked set for a period of relative calm.
Sally Ann lay snug in her dock, and the working pair had vacated the bank beyond. It had been Marnie’s idea that they should set off after supper and aim to tie up for the night below the lock at Cosgrove, close to the Iron Trunk Aqueduct over the River Ouse.
When Ralph came out of the shower room, he smiled at Marnie.
“I know,” she said. “I always do this ... look out at the canal when I’ve got something to think about. You don’t have to remind me.”
“I wasn’t going to. I was just thinking how gorgeous you looked standing there framed in the doorway.” He came to stand beside her, slipped an arm round her waist and kissed her gently. “It’s good to have the place to ourselves again.”
Marnie wondered if he was referring to the absence of Anthony or Simon. “Yes, for a while at least.”
“Is that why you suggested that Andrew and co went off tonight?”
“Not actually, no,” she replied. “I figured they could get through Cosgrove ready for an early start tomorrow. It takes hours to get round Milton Keynes, an easy beginning to their life afloat.”
“And a chance for Anthony’s beard to grow a bit more,” Ralph added.
“It all helps,” said Marnie.
Ralph moved closer and touched her forehead with his lips. “Would I be right in thinking there’s more to your master plan than we’ve yet been told?” he said softly.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
14
It was breakfast time on Sally Ann, and rain was pounding steadily on the steel roof. Anne removed mud-spattered trainers by the stern doors after a quick trot through the spinney. Padding through to the galley, she was met by the smell of toast and coffee. She stared at Marnie in surprise.
“You’re here.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” said Marnie. “Here is where I do breakfast.”
“But, that’s odd. It must’ve been Ralph. But then where would he be going? It’s too wet for his walk.”
“Explain, O Mysterious One.”
“I thought I caught sight of you in the spinney just now. I thought perhaps you were going to the office after looking in on Ralph. I didn’t stop ’cos of the rain.”
Marnie picked up the mobile and pressed buttons. “Ralph, hi. Where are you at the moment?”
“In the saloon, putting my shoes on. Why?”
“So you weren’t outside just now?”
“No. Is anything the matter?”
“Anne thought she saw someone in the spinney.”
“Really?”
“I was just thinking ... after what happened to Frank.”
“I’ll check.”
Through the galley windows Marnie and Anne looked out on both sides of Sally Ann. The downpour was falling vertically like a silver curtain, making it difficult to see through the trees. Water was dripping from the branches, and raindrops were splattering among the tussocks of grass in open ground. They scanned the spinney. Ralph appeared from Thyrsis, criss-crossing between the tree-trunks. Anne giggled at the sight of him, an improbable sleuth carrying his umbrella. Eventually he came on board.
“Nothing?” said Marnie.
“Not that I could see. And I looked carefully at the ground for footprints. Everywhere’s just mud.”
Marnie turned to Anne. “How sure are you that you saw somebody?”
“Well, obviously, I thought I did at the time.”
“Clothes?”
Anne shrugged. “Dark things ... in amongst the trees. You’re thinking it was a trick of the light and the rain?”
“Possibly.”
“I suppose ...”
They sat pondering over breakfast, half listening to Today on Radio 4. Even Ralph, an avid consumer of news programmes, was thinking of other things. When the sports report came on, Marnie got up to make more toast.
“Do you think it might’ve been a reporter?” she said.
“Why should it be?” said Ralph. “They surely couldn’t connect us with Anthony, unless they’ve been asking questions all along the canal, of course. Seems unlikely. We’re a long way from London.”
“The local police were asking about him,” said Anne.
Marnie leaned against the galley workbench. “Mm ... what are the alternatives?”
“What about ...” Ralph began. His eyes flickered towards Anne, and he stopped.
“The mugger?” said Marnie. “I wonder ...”
*
During working hours they were normally independent, but that miserable day with rain still falling intermittently from a leaden sky, Marnie rang Ralph and asked if he wanted to join them at break time, while Anne boiled the kettle and sorted mugs.
Bringing the tray to her desk, she said, “So what did Ralph say about Dr Greenman?”
“Dr Greenman?” said Marnie vaguely.
“You know, you were going to talk about Tricia last night. Remember?”
Marnie had vivid memories of the night before when she and Ralph retired to Thyrsis, but Dr Greenman and Tricia did not feature in them. “I forgot. We chatted about other things in the end.”
Ralph came into the office backwards, flapping his umbrella. “What a morning! Still at least it’ll be an advantage for Anthony. He’ll be out of sight all day.”
Anne handed a mug to Ralph. “I was asking Marnie about your phone call with Dr Greenman. She said she forgot to ask you about it last night. You had other things to ... er, chat about, she said.”
“That’s right,” said Ralph. “We got rather engrossed in the economic recession in the Far East, I seem to recall.”
“Of course.” Anne’s expression remained inscrutable. “So how was it for you? The call with Dr Greenman, I mean.”
Ralph twinkled the briefest of smiles at Anne. “He said Tricia’s a very confused lady, good days, not-so-good days. Sometimes she actually believes we got married.”
Marnie took her mug from Anne. “Is it some form of schizophrenia?”
“Greenman said it was one of the main types of personality disorder. She probably never quite recovered from her breakdown at university. I think her relationship with me was a disaster for the rest of her life.”
“Did he say that?”
“Not in those terms, exactly.”
“Ralph, you’re not going to go blaming yourself for everything, are you? I don’t think that would do anyone any good. I
t certainly won’t help Tricia. I doubt anything could.”
“No. I did offer to go and see her, try to help her to get things straight.”
“What did he say? Don’t tell me, I can guess.”
“He said it could possibly make things worse. Seeing me would be like opening up an old wound.”
*
Andrew was running Totteridge and Shardlow in line astern that morning, with Kate at the tiller on the butty and Anthony out of sight in the cabin as they chugged for hours round the northern and eastern edges of Milton Keynes through a landscape that varied continuously between urban and rural.
It was late in the morning when a shout from a solitary boat tied up at the bank signalled a customer. Andrew brought Totteridge over to the moored craft, and Shardlow slipped gently alongside.
The customer asked for a fill-up of diesel and a few bags of coal, wanting to cheer up the cabin on a dismal morning. It surprised Andrew when Anthony suddenly appeared from the cabin, wearing a cagoule with hood up, to heave the coal into the customer’s cratch well. Without a word, he began filling the tank with fuel, while the rain got in under his hood and ran down his sprouting beard.
“Didn’t know you had staff, Andrew,” said the customer.
“That’s Tony. He’s a mate, helping out for a bit.”
“Right.”
The customer paid no more attention to the newcomer and settled the bill with Andrew, waving thanks to Tony as Totteridge moved off into the mist and drizzle. The water under the stern boiled as the two seventy-footers pulled away. A movement in the cabin caught Andrew’s attention, and he glanced down. Looking up from below, Anthony raised a tentative thumb. Andrew nodded.
*
The rain was easing off when Ralph took Anne for her driving lesson leaving Marnie alone in the office, working on the scheme for a Willards canalside pub. She was trying to get away from the traditional mixture of dark Victorian colours and old framed photographs, introducing murals to give a more exciting style. She badly needed an uninterrupted hour or two to work out the design. When the phone rang she wished Anne had been there to take the call.
