Jennifer Bohnet - I'm Virtually Yours

Polly bit her lip. She’d committed herself to going down to the West Country now and she did need the money. Apart from the bills on her desk, her ancient car was coming up for its mot next month — her car!

She’d forgotten the state it was in. Would it get her all the way to Devon? There was a strange knocking noise when she went round corners that would probably turn out to be expensive to fix. And she’d completely forgotten about Rosie. What was she going to do with Rosie?

Ben Robertson pushed his breakfast toast away and finally opened the letter he’d been ignoring for the past ten minutes.

“The loan company are getting heavy. Say if we miss another payment, they’ll call in the loan immediately.”

Lillian rubbed her eyes tiredly. Sleep had again evaded her for most of the night as she’d tossed and turned worrying about the business. They so didn’t need the loan company piling additional pressure on. She looked at Ben.

Seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the worry lines across his forehead she knew he hadn’t slept much either. She’d be glad when everything was sorted — one way or the other. She hated seeing Ben like this. At their time of life she’d expected things to be getting easier, not more difficult. All this business with the yard and finance was definitely taking its toll on both of them.

“Can they do that?”

Ben nodded. “Yes. We can only pray that the season starts early and the weather is kind to us this year. And hopefully this ’Worldsend Enterprise’ deal comes off.”

“You don’t think we could be getting into even murkier waters?” Lillian asked quietly. “We don’t know much about them, what with their offer coming totally out of the blue.”

“Just at the right moment as far as I’m concerned,” Ben said. “I know it’s a risk but what’s the alternative? We can’t let the business go without putting up a fight. A sleeping partner prepared to let us continue to run the business sounds like a good offer to me. And at least Worldsend is a nautical business so it must know all about seasonal fluctuations. Not like this bunch of sharks,” and he threw the paper angrily down onto the table.

“Will’s not happy,” Lillian said. “He still says we should try and manage without outside investment. The barge will be earning money this season and there’s another instalment due on the new-build this month. He reckons if we did some more advertising, set up a website…”

“Show him that letter,” Ben said. ‘He’ll change his tune when he sees how close we are to being sold down the river. Can’t see a website changing our fortunes overnight.”

“That’s another thing. D’you think Worldsend knows how desperate we are?” Lillian said.

“If this woman they’re sending to look at the business knows her stuff, they soon will. Just pray she’s got enough foresight to see how good our future prospects are.”

“Are you going to tell her about the loan? And,” Lillian hesitated, “other things?”

“She’ll see the loan when she opens the books — you got ‘em up to date?”

Lillian nodded as Ben continued.

“And no, I’m not going to mention ‘other things’ so don’t you go saying anything either. Nothing’s happened for a few weeks now so hopefully we’ve seen the last of it. Right, I’m off to the boatyard. I’ll see you later.”

Tiredly Lillian cleared the breakfast things away before going upstairs to get ready for work. Today she definitely needed to apply what Ben laughingly called her warpaint to disguise the shadows under her eyes and to give her the courage to face this high-powered businesswoman Worldsend were sending to inspect them.

Shame she didn’t have either the time or the money to get her highlights done. If she wasn’t careful she’d end up bald, she was pulling out so many grey hairs recently.

Will sat on the deck of the barge enjoying his second coffee of the morning with his breakfast toast and watching the river come to life. He reckoned it was the best bit of the day, waking up out here.

Not for a single moment did he regret his decision to move out and live on the barge the instant the living quarters were renovated. He might have told Ben and Lillian it was a question of security with all the funny business that had been going on, but in reality he’d loved the thought of living out on the river and had grabbed the opportunity.

He was enjoying looking after himself too, cooking in the spacious galley with its gleaming equipment. Lillian had admitted to being envious of the new cooking range on which he’d produced a more than passable lasagne followed by a pavlova the other evening when she and Ben had motored across for supper. Lillian had also been full of admiration for the conversion work he’d done on the barge.

Opening the barge as a floating sailing school was going to work, he knew. Even with some open bulkheads and the few planks that still needed replacing at the stern of its seventy-foot length, the barge was already beginning to feel and look like the sailing school it would become in a few more weeks. But there was still the little matter of finishing it off and buying the necessary dinghies before they could open. Will sighed. They were so close to being ready.

The individual cabins were finished and waiting for the mattresses and the bedding and the other items that would make them a comfortable retreat for the budding sailors. The saloon where the theory lessons would take place before anybody was let out on the water was equipped and life jackets were stowed in the lockers ready for action. All that was needed was the cash for the rest of the equipment.

Throwing the last of his toast to the gulls, Will squashed the question uppermost in his mind: Where the hell were they going to find the rest of the money needed? Negative thoughts he didn’t need. He’d get the money somehow.

With hindsight they’d been bloody stupid to take out that loan but at the time… Will shook his head, not wanting to remember how desperate they’d been. At least they’d managed to make a payment last month thanks to that delivery job he’d done over to St. Malo.

Now though, watching a shag preen itself on the large black mooring buoy the barge was tied up to, he found himself wondering just how long he would be allowed to live on board — how long in fact the Elizabeth Ann would remain a part of his life.

As for these ‘Worldsend Enterprises’ people who’d suddenly poked their oar into the business wanting to inject money, were they going to turn out to be loan sharks in a different guise? He was damned if he was going to greet them with anything more than politeness until he’d discovered if they had a hidden agenda.

It was his inheritance — his life — that was at stake here and he wasn’t just going to give it up without a fight. He’d make damn sure, too, that this Polly Jones woman, whoever she was, knew that when she arrived.

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