by Katie Fforde
Emily did her best to hug her friend but was mostly prevented by her bump. ‘It’s fine. I can manage and, most importantly, I can get through the night without needing a wee.’
‘Which is more than I can do,’ said Rebecca gloomily. ‘No sooner does the baby finally stop kicking and keeping me awake so I can drop off than my bloody bladder wakes me.’
‘At least now you can catch up during the day and get some proper rest. Archie and Henry are old enough to understand if you need to fall asleep on the sofa while they watch that thing about dragons.’ Emily caught up on children’s TV while doing home visits. It was handy.
‘Actually, the thought of curling up in front of the TV with my boys is absolute bliss. Not having to worry about the childcare rota is also bliss.’
‘And you won’t have to worry about me and Billie because we’re going to job-share, so I won’t be telling her what to do, just making tactful suggestions.’
Again, Rebecca frowned. ‘Well, good luck with that.’
They finished going through everything that was expected of Emily and Rebecca gave her a thorough tour of the galley. The langoustines still heaved and rustled in the sink in a worrying way but Emily was used to them now.
‘If ever a fishing boat offers to sell you anything wonderful, abandon the menu plans and buy the fish. The petty cash should have enough in it for that but if it doesn’t, tell James and he’ll sort it.’ Rebecca leant against the counter, taking up the entire gangway. ‘I love that spontaneity. It wouldn’t work for some cooks but although I like having a plan, and I like knowing there are five dishes I could make without having to go shopping, I really prefer it if something lovely comes flapping on to my worktop, demanding something a bit special.’
‘I went on a fish course once, with an old boyfriend, so that excites me too.’ Emily realised that Rebecca didn’t only need her cooking to be left in safe hands, she wanted the ethos to be passed on too. ‘This is going to be great. Perfect for me. I’ll be so busy I won’t have time to brood about what’s going on at the maternity unit. I’ll have to think about food all the time! And how lovely is that!’
‘Lovely,’ agreed Rebecca, much less enthusiastically. ‘Now bring me up to date on your love life. Have you left behind a broken-hearted lover?’
Emily giggled. ‘No! I may have left someone who would like to see himself in that role but he wasn’t doing very well.’
‘So you don’t have a love-life currently?’
‘No.’
‘That’s good. I’d hate to think of you pining while you’re up here working.’ She paused. ‘What did you think of Alasdair?’
‘Who?’
‘The man who picked you up from the bus station.’
‘Oh! Well, he hardly opened his mouth for the entire trip from the bus station. I assumed he was the local taxi but he wouldn’t accept any money so—’
‘Did you fancy him?’ Rebecca asked before Emily could finish her sentence.
Emily put this down to hormones. Rebecca would never usually have said this about someone Emily had barely met. ‘No! I just want to know why he gave me a lift if he’s an elective mute. It must have been torture for him. In fact I could tell it was.’
‘Don’t take it personally.’ Rebecca paused, obviously thinking how best to put what she wanted to say. ‘He’s James’s brother. I told him you’d be tired and probably wouldn’t want to chat.’
‘Really?’ Emily was astounded. ‘When have you ever known me not want to chat?’
‘Well, you’d had a long journey and you know how tiresome it is having to tell people what you do and things.’
‘Why on earth should I mind telling people what I do? I’m proud of it.’
‘I thought you might have felt a bit awkward, in the circumstances,’ Rebecca explained.
Emily wasn’t quite convinced by this but as she didn’t greatly care, she just said, ‘No, I’m cool about it. I didn’t do anything wrong, after all.’
‘No, well, back to business, I’ve made a cake for tea today.’ Rebecca seemed eager to get off the subject of why Emily had suddenly dropped her career and come up to Scotland. ‘The passengers will be here at about five, so they get tea before James’s welcome drink at seven. Then, as I said, dinner at eight. That’s in case anyone has difficulty getting here on the first night. We have it at about seven usually.’
‘That’s fine. And you’ve cooked that already so I just do garlic bread and make a salad?’
Rebecca nodded. ‘There’s one guest I must tell you about. She comes every year with her son. He disappears into the engine room for the duration, being a steam buff. She sits and knits and helps with the washing up.’
‘So passengers help with washing up? Don’t they come away to avoid household chores?’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘No, this is different from most holidays. People come because they want to get involved. There’s no obligation, of course, but they enjoy it. It’s different from doing it at home. And Maisie, who I just mentioned, she loves coming. I worry about her getting about as she’s no spring chicken, but there’s always someone to chat to, and it’s time with her son. At mealtimes, anyway.’
‘I look forward to meeting her. I love old people. There’s always so much behind the wrinkles and dodgy hairstyles.’
‘I’m so glad you said that! Billie gets a bit impatient. She says we should have an age limit. In some ways she’s right, getting people on and off is a struggle sometimes, and I do worry about the steepness of the steps going down to the accommodation, but in other ways, this is a perfect holiday for them. And Maisie loves it, so, as long as she can come, I’m happy to have her.’
At last Rebecca managed to tear herself away, almost content that she’d left her beloved puffer galley in safe hands. Emily familiarised herself further on her own, locating utensils that were her personal essentials, glad that Billie still hadn’t come back from wherever she’d gone.
When she did come back, Emily handed her a mug of tea with ‘Chief Cook’ printed on it. ‘So, how are we going to divvy up the chores? I’ll do tea so I can practise getting to know the clients—’
‘Pazzies. We call them pazzies – short for passengers.’
Emily nodded. ‘Cool. And we’ll do dinner together? I need to jump in at the deep end, I think.’ She smiled. ‘Not literally, obviously. I’m not that great a swimmer.’
Billie didn’t smile at this feeble attempt at a joke. Emily bit her lip. If her companion in the galley was going to be so taciturn it was going to make for a far from jolly time.
Before she could dwell on this further she heard boots on the steps and looked up to see James, whom she nearly didn’t recognise now he had no beard, and a younger man coming down.
She came out of the galley at the same time as Rebecca appeared from the sleeping quarters to do the introductions.
‘James! You remember Emily, don’t you?’
‘Of course! How could I forget? The prettiest of our bridesmaids.’ He embraced Emily warmly.
‘I was the only bridesmaid, James,’ she said, hugging him back. He’d grown a little bit fatter since his wedding but he still had huge charm. It was easy to see why he was so successful at a business involving people.
‘But still pretty,’ he said. ‘I remember your lovely smile. Now, let me introduce the first mate, Drew.’
A young man in jeans and a sweatshirt with ‘Puffer Crew’ on it stepped forward. ‘Hi, pleased to meet you. I’m usually referred to as the deck hand but I’ll take the promotion.’
Another man, a bit older, wearing a boiler suit and a big smile, appeared and put out his hand. ‘And I’m Bob, chief engineer, often known as McPhail, after the Para Handy stories.’
‘Hi, Drew. Here’s your coffee, black, two sugars,’ said Billie. ‘It’s how he likes it,’ she added to Emily, proprietorially, as if only she would get it right.
‘It’s instant coffee and I’m very happy to make it myself,’ said Drew with
a grin that made him very attractive.
Emily intercepted Billie looking at him and diagnosed a bit of a crush. ‘That’s good to hear.’
‘Well, welcome, Emily! It’s lovely of you to agree to have a Highland summer with us,’ said James. ‘Now, is there time for a cuppa before our guests arrive?’
As tea was made and ‘crew cake’ produced, Emily suddenly remembered that Alasdair, her silent taxi driver, was James’s brother. They were very different. James’s accent was English and a bit posh and he had an easy, friendly charm. Alasdair was silent, but had had a slightly Scottish burr in the very few words they had exchanged. She had thought that Alasdair was good-looking, in a brooding sort of way, although she wouldn’t have dreamt of saying so to Rebecca. It would only have given her ideas. Still, Emily realised she had more important things to think about now than the difference between the two brothers.
Chapter Two
BEFORE LONG, EMILY began to feel at home in the galley and, because Rebecca had done so much preparation for the evening meal, she found time to make a batch of cheese straws and a tea-bread for the following day. Rebecca had told her to take advantage of any free time to bake, as chatting to the passengers was as much part of the job as the cooking.
Billie wasn’t around but that was fine, Emily preferred finding things by opening cupboards and drawers and shutting them again rather than being told where to look with an expression that was almost a sneer. She was going to have to work on her new colleague, and get Billie to stop seeing her as a threat.
She also found time to make herself familiar with the cabins down below, so by the time various ‘Hellos!’ floated down from on deck to tell her people were arriving, she felt ready to meet the guests.
Emily positioned herself at the bottom of the steps to the saloon, a welcoming smile ready to be produced at any moment.
‘I’m sorry, we’re always the first to get here.’ A faintly Scottish voice belonging to a fairly elderly woman indicated that Rebecca’s favourite passenger had arrived. Rebecca had given detailed instructions about how Maisie was to be treated which could have been summed up by saying, ‘Look after her as if she was your own, much-loved, granny.’
Emily met her halfway up the steps in case she had difficulty getting down them, but although she was elderly, she seemed fairly spry and obviously well used to these particular steps. Emily was relieved.
‘Hello, I’m Emily,’ she said.
‘And I’m Maisie,’ she said when she got to the bottom. ‘Rebecca told me about you. She telephoned when she realised she wouldn’t be able to be here. Silly girl! She needn’t have worried. I said we’d get along just fine.’
‘And we will!’ said Emily. ‘Rebecca told me about you too and that you knit. I’m a bit of a knitter myself.’
‘Well, that’s good, dear.’ She allowed herself to be supported as far as the banquette by the wood-burner. ‘Robert’s got my bags. He’ll be down in a moment – he’s just catching up with James on all that’s been going on with the puffer since we were last here, so if it’s all right with you, I’ll just make myself comfortable by the fire. I do like a fire, even in summer.’
‘So do I. Now, can I bring you a cup of tea? A bit of something to eat?’ She wasn’t sure if Maisie would be up to tea-bread, thickly spread with butter, or might prefer a plain biscuit. Emily suddenly yawned.
‘You’re tired? Rebecca mentioned you’d have been travelling all day,’ said Maisie.
‘You always have to get up before dawn to catch a plane these days,’ said Emily. ‘But I’ll gladly make you a cup of tea.’
‘You don’t mind me; I’ll be just fine. I’ll wait until everyone has it. I’ve got my knitting and Robert will help me down to my room later.’
As she did seem very at home sitting there, Emily returned to the galley to warm the enormous teapot and put mugs on a tray.
The other passengers arrived in dribs and drabs, most of them very glad of tea after their journeys to the puffer’s base in Crinan. Eventually, they were all there, and they assembled in the saloon to listen to James, thoughts of tea abandoned; there was a whisky bottle to be opened.
James, having introduced everyone and given a short welcoming talk, added, ‘And our special entertainment for tomorrow after lunch is bunkering. As I speak there’s a load of coal being delivered to the wharf we’re heading to. So anyone who wants to help load it will be given a boiler suit, a shovel and a beer at lunchtime. Anyone else should stay well clear as the coal dust gets everywhere. And now – ring the bell – I declare the bar open.
‘This drink is on us,’ he went on. ‘But after that you have to pay for your own. There’s an honesty bar. Each cabin has its own card and you just write on it what you drink. Now Billie is coming round with sherry or drams, depending on what you want. Soft drinks are available.’
As Billie circulated with a tray of drinks, Emily passed round her cheese straws.
‘Oh, these are my favourite!’ said Drew. He took several and ate them enthusiastically. Then he caught Billie’s eye.
‘You want a beer?’ Billie said. ‘I’ll get you one and put it in your column. We’re allowed to drink,’ she explained to Emily, ‘as long as we write it down and pay for it at the end of the week.’
‘We do get it for cost price,’ said Drew. ‘It’s cool.’
He looked at Emily directly and she saw interest. She was a bit older than him and she wondered if he was at that age when older women were especially attractive. Emily realised that if Drew even looked at her Billie would never stop resenting her, and working together would never be easy. She gave Drew the kind of smile that made it clear she wasn’t interested. At least, she hoped it did.
As she moved among the passengers with her plate she inspected the group of people she would be cooking for during the coming week. Rebecca had told her how fond you became of them and how sad you were to see them go. But when another lot came, you became just as fond of them.
‘I think it’s because you’re looking after them,’ Rebecca had explained. ‘It sort of makes you love them. Like guinea pigs. You know? When you have to look after someone’s pet when they go away. Just by feeding it, you become fond of it.’
Emily wasn’t sure if people were all that much like guinea pigs but Rebecca was pregnant and so was permitted flights of fancy. There was nothing about any of her passengers she felt might make them difficult to look after and Rebecca had said this very rarely happened.
‘Coming on the puffer is a very different sort of holiday. Most people know that and aren’t expecting a five-star cruise.’ Then she had frowned. ‘They do get a five-star service – ten-star really – but not like on cruise ships.’
After a few more drinks were consumed it was time for dinner. Billie rang the ship’s bell and, after much discussion and changing of minds, everyone sat down. Emily was in the kitchen, keen to make everything go smoothly. She was supposed to join everyone at the table but convinced Rebecca – who’d popped back to see how she was getting on and check that the puffer hadn’t sunk the moment she turned her back on it – that she’d rather tidy up, and wash up as the plates came back.
James cooked the langoustines and Emily produced two huge bows of aioli. Bowls for the bits were placed in among the plates and napkins. It was all rather messy but everyone loved it. Emily put out bowls of hot water with slices of lemon for people to wash their fingers in. Billie sneered, obviously feeling finger bowls were a step too far.
Although it all went like clockwork, with no ghastly hiatuses caused by things failing to brown at the right time, or awkwardness caused by someone being allergic to garlic, Emily did find she was exhausted by the end of the meal. Rebecca had gone home and the men were all on deck, having either more coffee, malt whisky or even a cigarette. Some of the passengers had gone for a stroll in the light summer evening. If Emily hadn’t felt as if she’d been hit by a heavy object she’d have been doing this too. It was all so beautiful. But she felt too
tired to put one foot in front of another.
‘I’m shattered!’ she said to Billie, wringing out her dishcloth and tossing it into the freshly cleaned sink.
‘I don’t know why,’ said Billie, tipping coffee dregs where Emily had just wiped. ‘You didn’t even cook the meal.’
Emily didn’t mention her early start to get to the airport in time, or how tiring learning a new job always was, or anything like that. There was no point. Instead she said, ‘Us old things don’t have the stamina of you young ones. If you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in now. And I think Drew said he wanted another cup of coffee. Do you think he can make it himself?’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Billie.
Silently chiding the girl for being so eager to please a man, who, if not hers yet, was the object of her attention, Emily negotiated her way up the steps, across the deck and down the ladder to her sleeping quarters. The narrowness of the bunk and the strangeness of it all would cause her no problems that night.
Emily awoke, fairly sure she was in the same position as she had been when she fell asleep. She felt wide-awake and excited at the prospect of the day. She was determined to enjoy her summer in the Highlands and that meant making the most of every moment. So, although her phone told her it was barely five o’clock, she decided to get up.
She managed to get her clothes on without disturbing Billie, and climbed up the ladder. She looked around from the top of the ladder and saw that the rest of the world was still asleep. She would have a quick shower and then go and explore. Breakfast wasn’t until eight so she had plenty of time.
Moving carefully over the dew-covered deck, Emily slid back the hatch to the saloon and found her way down to the shower. She ignored the galley; she would be at work there shortly, but this time was her own.
Ten minutes later she was back on deck again, desperate to get out into the beauty of the morning.
The sun was concealed behind a fine mist promising a beautiful summer day, but for Emily the sense of expectation was even more wonderful. She took a moment to relish the sight of the harbour, full of boats of all sizes, but dominated by the puffer. A few small white houses flanked the hotel, which must have the best views in the world, and a thread of mist trailed across the masts of the boat like a chiffon scarf. Close to, fine cobwebs were covered with tiny drops of dew, like fairy decorations, occasionally catching the sunlight and flashing like diamonds. It was breathtaking.
