Katie Fforde - Going Dutch

‘That's fine,' said Jo airily, as if she hadn't spent the previous half-hour agonising about the meat getting cold, the potatoes burnt and the Yorkshire puddings dried to a crisp. After all, it wasn't his fault she'd elected to undertake Sunday-lunch therapy for her own reasons.

She made the introductions and then got everyone to sit down so she could serve. Even while she was pulling dishes of vegetables out of the oven, pouring gravy into a jug and generally getting the meal onto the table, she heard Tom trying to ask Marcus if he could come without actually saying it.

Fortunately for Tom, he seemed to make a good impression on Marcus and they were soon discussing plans for the trip. Dora was joining in womanfully and Jo allowed herself to remain silent. She'd done what she'd set out to do, produced a meal that, even by her high standards was a success, in spite of the waiting around, and everyone was eating enthusiastically.

And then, when the last Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes had been distributed, and Jo was thinking about serving the pudding, Marcus said, 'I know you've said you're coming, Joanna, but I want to know the real reason why you're so reluctant.’

Had she been expecting this question she'd have prepared an answer, but as it came completely out of the blue she had to fall back on the truth.

‘Because I'm terrified. I keep telling people, but no one seems to believe me.’

There was a silence; everyone seemed to have stopped chewing. 'Right,' said Marcus calmly and got up. 'Dora, can you see to whatever needs seeing to? Joanna and I are going for a walk.’

Tom and Dora exchanged glances but kept quiet.

‘But I can't just abandon everything!' Jo said, aware of the tottering heaps of greasy dishes and baking tins that were now piled on every surface.

‘Yes you can,' said Marcus. 'Come.’

She went. She didn't appreciate his commanding tones, but something in his look made her realise it was safer to comply. She told herself it was so she could give him a piece of her mind without an audience. As she went up the steps, Tom and Dora started clearing plates and stacking the dishwasher.

Marcus didn't speak until they were both off the barge and out of the gate.

‘I really don't feel-' said Jo, not at all sure what she did feel.

‘I want to find out why you're so frightened,' said Marcus quietly. 'And then I'm going to put your mind at rest. Tom seems a good lad,' he went on, so Jo couldn't protest any more.

‘Oh yes. He's really keen to come. I hope you'll let him. And Dora, I feel responsible for her.'

‘Is she reasonably calm? Unlikely to get hysterical, able to make a cup of tea?' He was striding purposefullyalong and Jo was having a job keeping up.

Feeling slightly hysterical herself, Jo laughed. 'All that. She and Tom are getting to be a bit of a team.'

‘Are they going out?’

Jo frowned. 'Don't think so. I'm fairly sure they're just friends, but who's to say if they'll stay like that? Where are we going?' she added, borrowing his technique of sudden subject-changing.

‘Just for a walk. We'll go along the river for a bit and then find an unoccupied bench.’

Instead of going in the direction of the pub and shops, he led her in the other direction, crossed a bridge and along a lane until they were on the towpath.

‘Do you often have to talk people round to the idea of going on barge trips?' asked Jo when they could walk side by side.

He laughed and shook his head. 'No. I'm usually telling people they can't come, can't bring their girlfriend, can't sell tickets to all their friends.'

‘People don't do that, do they?'

‘No, but they are keen to see these trips as pleasure jaunts, and while everyone wants to enjoy themselves, having too many people is distracting and dangerous.'

‘You don't want me then, I'm distracting and dangerous.’

She was teasing him and expected him to laugh but he didn't. 'No you're not. Well, not in…' He was looking at her disconcertingly again. 'Anyway, it's not so much that I want you to come because you're a good cook and would keep everyone happy but because I don't want you to be frightened of the sea.'

‘If I didn't come I wouldn't have to be.' Really, he was so hard to read. Philip had always been so transparent she'd got used to knowing what he was about to say and when. Marcus on the other hand was difficult to pin down.

He ignored her comment and took her arm. She had to lengthen her stride again to keep up with him and neither of them spoke until Marcus stopped at what he obviously considered to be a suitable place. It was a bench that looked out over the river. Jo suspected that the trees they were looking at were Tom's island, where his boat lay among the other diverse vessels that rotted and decayed until they merged with the river and the surrounding vegetation.

‘Now,' he said, 'what are you frightened of exactly?’

Jo considered. It was very hard to put irrational fears into words – whatever you said sounded silly and weak-minded. 'I don't know. I think I'm just frightened. I do get seasick, and that doesn't help, and I don't like being on small boats, even ferries, very much. The sea is so big, so endless, so utterly relentless.’

Marcus didn't speak immediately. 'The sea is big, true, but if you think of the little boats and ships that have travelled across it since man hollowed out logs. It's also quite useful.'

‘Useful?' After the huge, expansive language she had used to describe the sea, 'useful' seemed a little niggardly. 'No, really,' she decided to make light of it. 'I can't see that catching on. The Useful Sea, The Wide, Useful Sea, "I must go down to the useful sea, the useful sea and the sky…" ' She misquoted book titles and fragments of poetry, trying to prove what an inappropriate word 'useful' was.

Although he chuckled, he was insistent. 'But it is useful. Rivers are useful. Towns have always sprung up on the banks of rivers. Look at London.' He gestured towards the island, covered in trees and not looking at all like a vast metropolis. 'And think of tides, how useful they are. If I'm dealing with a slightly underpowered craft, I motor fortwelve hours when the tide is with me, and then anchor while it's against me.’

Jo opened her mouth to say that it was different for him but he went on before she could. 'I know millions of people used to drown but not nowadays. The Three Sisters is a very seaworthy little ship. You can't come to any harm in her. I won't let you.’

Unexpectedly, Jo did start to feel calmer at the prospect of setting off across the ocean.

‘I have a lot of experience. I take precautions some people would think are obsessive. I'll have Ed, who's been at sea even longer than I have, with me, and all sorts of kit that wasn't even invented a few years ago. I'll keep you informed of what's happening at all times, and I might even make you steer. I promise to keep you and The Three Sisters entirely safe.’

Jo made a little sound, a sigh of resignation; her fears were going to be wrenched from her whether she liked it or not.

‘So, do you feel better now?' he asked, and Jo detected a slight edge of concern in his voice.

She sighed again and nodded. 'Why did you want to make me feel better? Why didn't you just let me stay at home?’

He smiled. 'Apart from the fact that you might not have anywhere to stay? I don't want you to be frightened of anything, if I can prevent it. And it's important to me that you like boating.'

‘

‘Why? There was a tiny pause. 'I have my reputation to keep up. If it got out that people were refusing to go to sea with me, my reputation would be in pieces.’

Jo couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. Maybe kee pin gup his reputation was the only reason he wanted her to come to Holland, and her cooking of course. 'But everyone knows I don't own The Three Sisters, that Michael does,' she said.