Katie Fforde - Going Dutch

Having been to the bathroom, Jo went into the little cabin formerly known as the glory hole. It didn't make sense to move Dora, she had insisted, and it was only for a short time. She'd soon be back in her stateroom, about to be occupied by Marcus and Carole.

The glory hole was glorious, thought Jo, as she shut the door. When they'd first been clearing it out and making it nice, she'd had it in mind that Tom would be sleeping in it. Once they'd realised that he would be sharing the forepeak with Ed, and it was going to be a woman who lived there, they'd made a special effort with it. Now, Jo noticed, Dora had put a selection of creams and potions on the shelf, tucked a teddy bear into the bunk and put a copy of heat magazine on the little bedside cabinet. On top of that was a miniature bottle of Famous Grouse whisky. Jo laughed, and hid the bottle away behind her pillow. She really hoped things wouldn't get so bad that she became a secret drinker but if all else failed it was nice to have a fallback position.

Jo felt a bit guilty going to bed before everyone else. She was the hostess, she should stay up in case anyone needed anything, put the lights out, find extra bedding or what ever. But she had done all the cooking they were likely to need for the entire trip, made so many trips to the local shop she called the boy who helped her pack her bags by his first name. She had organised all the bedding, whichmeant buying extra. And if she was to be up at the un godly hour Marcus suggested she needed to get her head down immediately. Marcus was an excellent skipper, she told herself, everyone said so. If he was behaving a little frostily then she'd just have to live with it. So what if he hadn't even said goodnight, that was his problem. At least she had Ed, Tom and Dora. Touched and amused by Dora's presents, she snuggled under the duvet and went to sleep with a smile on her face.

She woke early and got up immediately, hoping she was the first. Without doing more than pulling a sweater on over her pyjamas she went up on deck to see the dawn on the water. She knew she must hurry – everyone would be up very shortly.

She had always loved early mornings and when she lived in her old home, she used to steal out in her nightie into her garden and revel in the beauty of the dew on the lawn, the flowers, the way the light stole in behind some of the plants creating strange, pale shadows. She would stay out until her feet got cold and then go in, make a cup of tea, and come back out to drink it, sitting on a bench, watching the day emerge and the magic fade. It was as if the earlier moment had been just for her, a secret revelation of beauty.

The dawn was almost as beautiful today, only she wasn't alone to enjoy it. As she stepped down from the wheel house, she saw Marcus up at the bows, clutching a cup of something that steamed. She stayed still, hoping he wouldn't notice her, planning to hop back up the steps into the wheelhouse and then back down below again. She couldn't face any hostility this morning. But something must have alerted him to her presence and he turned.

Quickly, he edged round the boat towards her and was with her too soon for her to be able to go back without it looking like she was running away. Pride forced her to stay where she was.

‘I seem to have been under a misapprehension,' he said. 'Oh?' She tensed, trying to guess his mood.

‘Yes. I thought you'd decided not to come.'

‘Why on earth did you think that?' Jo felt herself bristling all over again.

‘It was something Bill said. He said – I'm sure he did -that you were going to some antiques fair with Miranda and were about to start work there.’

This did explain, to some extent, his surprise at seeing her on the barge. 'Well, only if I could. We didn't know when we were going, did we?'

‘No.' He paused. 'I think I owe you an apology, Joanna. I thought you'd abandoned this trip, and after all my coaching.'

‘I'm surprised you thought that. I would have thought you knew better than to think that of me.'

‘I have said I'm sorry.'

‘No you haven't!’

The tiniest smile nudged the corner of his mouth. 'OK, I'll say it now. I'm truly sorry for misjudging you.’

‘And listening to gossip.'

‘It wasn't gossip, precisely..

‘Hearsay then.’

He sighed, getting impatient with this protracted apology. 'It was just that Bill said the antiques fair you were going to with Miranda was starting tomorrow.'

‘I would have very much liked to have gone,' said Jo primly. 'It would have been very good for me, career-wise. However I had arranged to come on this trip some time ago. It was my priority.’

He touched her shoulder. 'I really have said I'm sorry now. Can we be friends?’

Jo considered. It was a bit like being asked to be friends with a panther – while it seemed impossible, it was a much safer option than being enemies. He was so unpredictable, who knew what else might set him off, but they were about to go on a journey together and she had to trust him. 'Of course.' She made to go but he put his hand on her shoulder again. 'Don't go just yet. Ed will be up in a moment and he'll get Tom up. What about Dora?’

Jo glanced at her watch. 'I'll give her another ten minutes or so, let the others use the bathroom. What about Carole?'

‘She'll stay out of the way until things are under way. She's not much good at boats.’

Jo couldn't ask why he'd brought her – it would be rude, even if she was curious. Jo was rarely, if ever, rude. 'There's no point in her dragging herself out of bed, then.'

‘No.'

‘I'll make some tea for the others.'

‘I would have done it but I couldn't find a teapot.’

‘Oh, no, well, there isn't one.'

‘Which explains why I couldn't find it.’

Jo sighed. 'I should have got one. I seem to have for gotten so much.' In spite of his apology, Jo still felt out of sorts with Marcus. His thinking that she could duck out of such a long-standing engagement was hurtful and it didn't exactly warrant such frosty behaviour. She would get over it, of course, but just now, she felt at odds with him.

Possibly sensing this, Marcus was insistent. 'No, you haven't forgotten anything. You've done brilliantly. As Ed said, there's vittles for an army and liquor for the Navy.'

‘I like Ed. I'm so glad you brought him. He's going to make everyone feel better.’

Marcus didn't seem to approve of this accolade. 'I hope he's going to be my first mate.'

‘But he'll do the other thing just by being here. I'm going to make tea, now.’

Once in the galley she congratulated herself on sounding really quite normal. She put the kettle on feeling that maybe everything would be OK after all.

Dora was woken by the sound of the bathroom door closing. Although there was light coming in through the porthole she could tell it was still very early. She must get up. They were setting off that morning.

Excitement flooded through her. She was going on an adventure and Tom was there. He was amusing to go adventuring with and fun just happened around him.

Briefly, she allowed herself to think how John would have been on a trip like this. He would have been fine, she told herself firmly, if he'd actually come. There just would have been a million, unarguable excuses why he shouldn't. About the only times they'd been away together had been to visit his relations.

She pulled on her jeans and a cotton sweater. She could hear swooshing and spitting and a few ecstatic groans coming from the bathroom and realised it contained an enthusiastic strip washer. Feeling guilty for the quick swipe of deodorant and fingerful of moisturiser that com prised her own ablutions that morning, she went to the galley.