Katie Fforde - Going Dutch

‘You're just on one for a cheap place to stay.' He grinned. 'Do you live on a boat?'

‘Yes, actually. But not a barge.'

‘Oh, do you have to, in your job?'

‘No, but as you say, it's cheap. The yard where me and my mates do a lot of work lets us have a mooring if we don't mind moving about when they've got work on. I'm not there at the moment. No room. I'm near here for the time being. It's handy, being able to move your home.'

‘I suppose.'

‘Does that sound very strange to you?'

‘Yes. I mean, I come from a small village, where every one lives in houses.'

‘This is like a village too, only people live on boats or barges. I've just moved villages for a while.’

As Dora was fleeing from the cosiness of village life she didn't want to talk about them all night. She changed the subject. 'What's the difference between boats and barges, technically?’

Tom took a sip from his pint. 'They say a barge can carry a boat, but a boat couldn't carry a barge. It's quite an involved question, really, and I don't suppose you're all that interested.' He glanced at her and smiled. He did have a rather nice smile, boyish and charming at the same time.

Dora felt she could have feigned interest for a little while, but not for long. However, if they talked about boats and barges it would mean he wouldn't ask probing questions. She fell silent as she considered.

‘Look,' he said, possibly getting tired of waiting for an answer. 'People are standing up. Food is arriving. Things are kicking off.’

Jo watched Dora from across the table. She seemed happy. The gorgeous young man at her side was apparently keeping her amused and her him likewise. She was such a pretty girl, it would have seemed a shame for her to have married someone she'd known for ever. Jo had got married young herself, and now it felt like a waste of her looks and gaiety to have thrown it away on the firstman to ask her. After all, you couldn't sow your wild oats after you were married, not in her book.

She and Philip had been part of a social set that used to do things together – trips to pubs, the cinema, parties. Then they had got married and real life began.

Michael, the owner of the barge, had been part of that early group. He too had got married relatively young, and Jo had thought they had lost touch with him. But apparently Philip had not and knew that he had been widowed and was now living with a very glamorous woman in the South of France.

Jo didn't resent Michael for living with a younger woman. In theory, she didn't resent anyone for following his or her heart, she just resented Philip for doing it, when he was married to her.

Once, many, many years ago, she had fallen in love with another man. She hadn't felt that intrinsically Philip's happiness was more important than hers, but there was Karen to think of, her parents, the in-laws, and a whole slew of other people who would have been desperately upset if she'd run off with someone else. So she hadn't done anything about it.

She had gone on thinking about the man for years, but, eventually, he had faded from her memory and now she couldn't even conjure up what he looked like.

So when Philip had allowed himself to get involved with the Floosie (who was probably a perfectly nice girl, who just had a taste for older men), the betrayal had been doubly hurtful, because she hadn't betrayed him when she had so much wanted to.

Now, she turned her attention to the woman who was talking to her. One of the things she had noticed since moving on to a barge was that having something major in common already was a great aid to conversation.

‘You must come and see ours,' the woman – Miranda, Jo thought – was saying. 'We've done a lot to it.'

‘ The Three Sisters is quite basic,' said Jo apologetically, although she had redecorated the boatman's cabin for her own sake, and the bathroom in Dora's honour, 'but as it's not mine, there's not a lot I can do about it.'

‘Will you go cruising with her?' Miranda asked, tucking into her food.

‘Oh no, I couldn't do that. I'd be far too nervous, not to mention seasick.'

‘I get a little nervous when we first set off, then I get into it. Lots of us women feel the same. We don't live on ours, of course, but we spend as much time as possible on it.'

‘Like a weekend cottage?’

Miranda nodded. 'Only now Bill's retired, we spend weeks on it too, when I can get away.'

‘So, what do you do?' said Jo, more interested than this run-of-the-mill question sounded.

‘I'm part-owner of a little antique shop. I don't have to actually be there often, as people who have things for sale take turns, but I buy stuff for it. Lillian – that's my partner – says it's no good us just providing a venue for other dealers. We have to sell for ourselves.'

‘That sounds fun.'

‘Oh, it is. I love it. We don't make much money, but it keeps me out of trouble.' Miranda paused. 'And what do you do? Or are you retired too?’

Jo hadn't anticipated this question. Unlike Dora, who had prepared an answer, she was put on the spot. 'I don't think I'm retired, I think I'm between careers.'

‘Are you? What bliss! Much as I love what I do, how wonderful to have a chance to start again. Don't you think?’

Miranda's enthusiasm was startling and Jo had to think for a moment before answering. 'Yes, I suppose it is.' Miranda made a gesture. 'Sorry, you probably don't feel like that at all, but I always want to apply for every job I ever see. And I know they're not going to take me on as a stable girl at my age, even if I did know anything about horses.'

‘Have some more wine,' said Jo. She was enjoying herself.

'So, what do you do for fun?' Tom asked Dora when they returned to their table, their plates piled high.

‘Um – what do you mean?' Dora knew perfectly well what Tom meant but she needed time to think something up. She and John had exercised his mother's dogs and gone to the supermarket for fun. She didn't think that Tom would be impressed.

‘You know, hobbies, stuff like that. Did you have a gap year?'

‘No. You?'

‘No. I'm going travelling when I've saved enough money.'

‘I was going to do that too. When I got the job in the estate agent's, I thought it was just for the summer but somehow I just stayed.' John hadn't wanted to go travelling, and she'd loved him, so she'd stayed at home to be with him. Now she'd have to think of a reason for staying that didn't involve John.

‘Oh? Why? Was it so fascinating?'

‘Strangely, yes. I love houses.'

‘And I love boats.’

She laughed. 'It's a good thing we're not planning to get together then!' She stopped abruptly, aware that she'd brought up the very subject she most hoped to avoid. Tom seemed quite calm about it, however. 'Oh, I don't know. I was planning to ask you out for a drink, actually.’

‘Were you?'

‘I'll let you know if I intend to go through with it,' he said gravely.

‘Give me plenty of warning, so I can think up an excuse if I don't want to.' She was suddenly more relaxed. She hadn't sworn off men for ever, she just didn't want a commitment. Tom didn't look like he would want to settle down with a mortgage, a Labrador and a semi, like John did. He was going travelling. That made him safe. She also liked his curly hair. John had floppy hair. Her mother thought he looked like Hugh Grant, and he did in a way. He wore the same sort of clothes. Tom was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a subversive message on it.

‘Here, let me top you up,' said Tom with a lopsided grin.

‘OK,' said Dora.

'Which is the longest river in the British Isles, including Ireland?' asked the quizmaster later that evening.