Blue Skies Over Wildflower Lock (The Wildflower Lock)

Chapter 39

Daisy couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. All she could do was yank the tiller back as far as it would go, hold it there, and pray.

Just as quickly as the September Rose had veered off course, it was back straight again. The whole incident couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, and yet Daisy’s pulse pounded as she gasped for breath. She could have hit the barge. She could have hit the barge and crashed the boat and drowned.

As the adrenaline dropped and her pulse slowed, she remembered the entire reason she had let go of the tiller in the first place.

‘Yvonne?’ she called into the boat, not daring to let go again. ‘Yvonne? What happened? Are you all right?’

‘I’m okay,’ Yvonne’s voice called back before her head appeared out the door. ‘I’m sorry, love, I broke one of your mugs. Dropped it on my damn toe. Didn’t frighten you too much, did I?’

Daisy glanced at the barge, which was now serenely gliding past, a distance of at least three September Roses between them. Once again, time felt as though it had been distorted.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she said after a moment. ‘What about you? Is your toe all right? It sounded like you hurt yourself.’

Yvonne brushed off the concern with a wave of her hand. ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I was just being a silly old woman. Yes, I’m fine.’ She gazed outwards as she spoke, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. ‘Though I’m afraid I didn’t make us those teas. Perhaps we should just wait until we’re moored up.’

‘Sounds like a good idea,’ Daisy agreed.

By the time they were enjoying their cups of tea, along with a light dinner of carrot soup, the sun was low on the horizon, with wisps of clouds criss-crossing across the pale-blue sky. Even with the unexpected trip to the vets, they had made good time. If it carried on this way, Yvonne was certain Daisy would be on schedule to see Theo soon. Which was great, because it would mean no more lying to him.

Despite having promised she would ring later that evening, Daisy didn’t feel like she had it in her. There was so much she wanted to tell him, from the sailboats and barges to the dog and her watercolour diary of the events. She just didn’t know how she would keep herself from spilling the beans. Not when she was as tired as she was. What she wanted was to curl up in bed and read her book with a glass of wine.

However, as Yvonne disappeared inside to get ready for the night, Daisy faced a new problem. One that was sitting right by her feet.

‘I hadn’t really thought through the sleeping arrangements,’ she admitted to the dog, recalling what Yvonne had said about him not being house-trained. Well, not that they knew of and there hadn’t been any accidents yet. ‘I think it’s best if you sleep out here for tonight.’

The dog tilted its head to the side as if understanding her.

‘Don’t look at me like that. I can’t have you inside the boat. I can’t. I have to cook in here. I know we’re travelling all day tomorrow, but after that, I’m planning on opening up again. I can’t have you in there when I’m doing that.’

His head tilted further still, his eyes growing wider and wider.

‘No, stop it. I won’t feel guilty. You’ve been sleeping outside in the grass before now.’

The dog continued to stare at her, without even the slightest hint of a blink, but Daisy wasn’t giving in. She’d not gone through all the rigmarole of getting the licence for the coffee shop, and the propeller fixed, to lose everything for a stray animal that she wasn’t even going to adopt.

‘Wait here,’ she said, clenching her jaw as she headed back into the boat. ‘I’ll get you some blankets. Nice, soft blankets.’

Finally, he dropped to the floor with a slight huff. Annoyed at herself for feeling so guilty, and at the dog for making her feel even more so, Daisy headed into the September Rose. ‘Sorry, I need to grab something from your cabin,’ she said, knocking on Yvonne’s door. It was funny how long it had taken for her mind to shift perspectives. Less than a week in and she wasn’t even thinking of it as her space any more.

When there was no reply, Daisy knocked again, this time pushing the door open a little as she did.

‘Sorry, Yvonne. Do you mind if I come and grab something from one of the cupboards? A blanket for the?—’

Daisy stopped. She peered inside to where Yvonne was sitting on the bed. Her legs were crossed and her swollen toe was on full display.

‘Yvonne, is that what you did with a mug?’ Daisy stepped inward for a closer look. Yvonne’s big toe was entirely purple, with one large cut going across right on the knuckle. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? It must be agony.’

Yvonne shook her head, brushing off Daisy’s concern.

‘It’s not that bad, really. Honestly, it looks a lot worse than it is. When you get to my age, you bruise a bit more easily. That’s all. I might just put a bit of ice on it.’

‘You should have put ice on it straight away,’ Daisy responded.

‘Well, it wasn’t a very convenient time. Stop fussing. Honestly, a bit of ice will have it right as rain. Do you have some?’

‘Yes. Don’t you move,’ Daisy said sternly. ‘I’ll get it.’

Back in the kitchen, she emptied an ice tray into a plastic Ziploc bag, then covered it in a tea towel before taking it back to Yvonne.

‘I really wish you’d said something,’ Daisy said. ‘You might need to see a doctor.’

‘For a bruised toe? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s fine. Now, what did you want? You came in saying you needed something. For the dog, was it?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Daisy blinked, recalling the reason she had come to Yvonne’s room. ‘I need to grab some towels. I think I’ve got some blankets and pillows. Things left in the cupboard.’

‘Well, it’s your home, not mine. Help yourself.’

As Daisy rummaged in the cupboard to find what she was looking for, she couldn’t help but glance at Yvonne, trying to get another look at her toe, but the ice was now covering it. How she could have carried on through mooring the boat and throughout dinner like nothing was wrong was a mystery. Daisy would have been bawling her eyes out. But maybe that said more about her than Yvonne.

When Daisy walked back out on the stern, the dog stood up and wagged his tail. She dropped two large pillows, which had been in the boat since she found it, with an old picnic blanket and placed them in the corner by the door.

‘The weather forecast is absolutely fine,’ she said, once again feeling the guilt rising within her. ‘Better than fine; it’s a heatwave. You’re the lucky one being out here, trust me. It’s a lot nicer than in there. You’ve got a proper breeze.’

Still, the eyes stared back at her. It was as if he knew the exact look to give to tug at her heartstrings.

‘Look, if the forecast says it’s going to rain before we find you a home, then we’ll talk about this. But for now, you’re fine out here.’

She looked at the stern rope tied against the mooring, keeping the September Rose locked in place. Perhaps, she realised, she needed to do something similar for the dog. After all, he was registered to her now, and the last thing she needed was him running off and causing a load of trouble in her name.

After adding an extra length of rope to the lead to make it a little longer, she fixed him to a hold on the boat. There was plenty of room for him to get up and move around the stern, but not jump out onto the jetty.

With that sorted, she headed back to fixing his food. While she’d remembered to buy dog food, a dog bowl had slipped her mind entirely, so he’d eaten his previous meal out of a plastic dish she normally put fruit in. It was as good as anything, she thought, as she filled it up with biscuits, then put another bowl down for his water.

Given how hot the night was, she meant what she said about the cool breeze and was slightly jealous of him getting to spend the night outside.

‘That’s it,’ she said, scratching under his chin. ‘I need a good night’s sleep. We’re going through London tomorrow. That’s gonna be busy. And I don’t want you keeping me up barking. Have you got it?’