Blue Skies Over Wildflower Lock (The Wildflower Lock)

Chapter 15

Yvonne was right. It really was a perfect day to make the trip. The water was so still that the reflections of the clouds sparkled up at them from below.

As they reached the mouth of the river, Daisy realised she’d been holding her breath. Her lungs quivered and her knuckles whitened on the tiller as she slowly steered to her right. Beside her, she could feel Yvonne in the same state of anticipation until, as the September Rose broke away from the banks, they let out a collective gasp. They were doing it. They were out on open water.

‘Oh, wow. I can’t believe it,’ Daisy said as she reached down beside her and picked up their life jackets. They weren’t something she normally bothered with on the lock, but out here, it seemed dangerously na?ve not to use them. ‘Here.’ She handed Yvonne hers.

‘Well, let’s put these on, and I’ll get us both a little glass of bubbly to celebrate.’

‘Bubbly? Now?’ Daisy questioned. After all, they’d still got a way to go until they moored up.

‘Only a sip,’ Yvonne insisted. ‘After all, if you don’t celebrate the little things, you’ll never appreciate the big ones when they happen.’

‘I can’t argue with that,’ Daisy said.

Daisy couldn’t believe how smoothly the morning had gone. Had she written down her perfect expectations for the day’s events, it still wouldn’t have gone as flawlessly as that morning. And, adding to the amazement of the day, she had another bonus. As Yvonne reappeared on the back of the boat, holding mugs filled with an inch of bubbles, Daisy spotted something else on the shorelines.

‘Are those seals?’ she said excitedly.

‘Oh, yes, you get a lot of them out here.’ There was a forced nonchalance to Yvonne’s voice, like this was nothing special, but Daisy could see the excitement in her eyes too. However many fabulous things she had seen on her travels, she’d been landlocked for a long time, and seal sightings were almost a distant memory. Not any more, though.

‘Just be careful; don’t go too close to the bank,’ Yvonne said, resuming her role as skipper. ‘The ground under here is like cement. The last thing we want to do is run aground. You’ll never get to Theo if that happens.’

Daisy followed her instructions, staying a fair distance out from the bank, while trying to snap photos of the seals that bathed lazily on the rocks.

Before long, the next estuary came into view.

‘Look at that,’ Yvonne said, tapping the little book of tide times she had used to plan the journey. ‘Everything is going like clockwork.’

The nerves from earlier in the morning had subsided, only to be replaced with yet more excitement. It really had been like clockwork. No problems at all. If this was a sign of things to come, she was going to be with Theo in no time.

‘Do you think we should keep going a bit longer?’ she said. There was an estuary to her right – the river that led to their planned mooring for the night – but with such perfect conditions, it felt like they should keep pushing forward. ‘Maybe we could keep going to Southend? The tide still looks pretty high. I’m sure we could make it?’

Yvonne offered her a deep scowl. ‘Don’t think you can judge what the tide is doing. It’ll only get you into trouble. Besides, Burnham’s a nice place. And it’ll be good for you to see a bit more of the Essex countryside too.’

Accepting that Yvonne was almost certainly correct in what they should do, Daisy pushed on the tiller, steering them into the next estuary, where yet more seals basked on the mouth of the river.

‘Just going to be straight up here for a while now.’ Yvonne said. ‘Do you want me to take over?’

Daisy briefly considered the offer. There were bound to be occasions on the trip when she had to default to Yvonne’s experience, but for now, while she was doing okay, Daisy wanted to keep going.

A while later, the marshland began to thin out and a seawall appeared in the place of a riverbank. It was early afternoon and she could see the town coming into view, along with a couple more boats, too.

‘We’re going to head up towards the marina,’ Yvonne told her. ‘Then we can moor up and pour ourselves a proper glass of bubbly.’