Chapter 33
All that was four days ago, but the memories were still as fresh and hurtful as they had been then. Gemma had made up with her mother on the phone, but as for her father, she felt it was up to him to apologise. Now, back in her own room at Joyce’s (how lovely to feel safe with her own bits around her, especially as the rat next door was away for half-term), she continued working on the nativity script. After Joe’s constant criticisms of everything she did at Puddleducks, she was determined that this year’s performance should be particularly good.
‘Gemma?’ There was a knock on the door.
Even though she had told herself not to be too hopeful, her heart leaped.
‘It’s me. Barry. Have you got a minute?’
Hastily running a hand through her hair, she glanced in the mirror. Panda eyes! She always got them when she was working, thanks to her habit of rubbing her eyes when she was trying to concentrate. Too bad. He’d have to take her as he found her.
‘Hi.’ She opened the door a crack.
His eyes went straight to her smudged mascara. ‘You weren’t having an early night, were you?’
She laughed. ‘I wish. Actually I was trying to work out how three small stars, three not-so-wise men including one who won’t remove his dummy, a hyperactive ox and a plastic Baby Jesus could manage to last for thirty minutes on stage without having an argument or forgetting their lines.’
Barry grinned. He had a nice grin, she decided. One that was warm and crinkly and friendly. ‘Is it possible for the scriptwriter to take an hour off? Because if so, I’ve arranged a bit of a last-minute surprise.’
‘A surprise?’ She felt that mixture of excitement and panic when someone threw something at you out of the blue. ‘But I’m not dressed for it!’
‘You don’t know what it is yet,’ pointed out Barry. ‘Just wear something warm.’ He glanced down at her blue spotted pyjamas which she always wore when she was working on the bed because it was comfortable. ‘Those will do, if you want.’
Was he joking?
‘OK.’ She’d take him at her word. Any man who seriously didn’t mind a woman with panda eyes and a duffle coat over her jim-jams had to be special. Sam, she remembered, had always liked it when she’d dressed up. A fat lot of good that had done her.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked as they went down the stairs.
‘You’ll see.’ Barry took her hand and it felt nice. ‘It’s only a short walk.’
It looked as though they were heading for the canal, past the evening dog-walkers including Toby’s dad, who gave her a cheery ‘Good evening’, and glanced with curiosity at her companion. He thought Barry was her date! Gemma felt a thrill go through her. Well, maybe he was.
They reached the towpath and began to walk past the canal boats, some of them lit up inside with warm cosy kitchens glowing through the windows. Now the clocks had changed, making the evenings earlier, the visible interiors of the boats seemed even more attractive in the dark. One couple were sitting opposite each other at a small table, eating, and Gemma’s heart leaped again in envy. It would be so cosy to have someone to be with; someone to talk to. Even the grumpy Joe had a wife or ex-wife or whatever she was, who was clearly still keen to share his company.
As on her previous walk here with Barry, she enjoyed looking at the boats’ names. Miranda’s Boy sounded almost mermaid-like, the boat itself painted turquoise, with gold scrolls. There were two children’s bikes propped up outside, and inside she could see a small girl doing a jigsaw with her brother. Maybe they were away on an end-of-half-term holiday. A pang of longing for the old, noisy days of her own childhood passed through her. She’d give almost anything, thought Gemma, to recreate that with children of her own.
‘Here we are!’ Barry stood next to a small red canal boat with Wanderlust painted on it in flamboyant midnight-blue lettering. He held out a firm, steady hand. ‘Let me welcome you aboard!’
She stood in wonder, staring at it. ‘It’s yours?’
‘Not exactly.’ He grinned as though pleased at her stunned reaction. ‘Belongs to a friend of mine from round here. He’s lent it to me. Mmm.’ He pretended to sniff the air. ‘Smells like dinner’s ready.’
Pinching herself, Gemma jumped on board. Inside was a galley kitchen with two plates of smoked salmon, out-of-season new potatoes and asparagus with hollandaise sauce, on a table already laid for two.
‘Who cooked the meal?’ she asked, looking around. Barry handed her a glass of something sparkly. ‘I’d like to say that it’s one I prepared earlier but actually it’s a certain supermarket’s finest.’
‘This is amazing!’ Looking around, she could hardly believe it. It was like one of those films where the heroine just happened to step into an empty boat and find a banquet, not to mention a handsome hero. Then she felt a twinge of regret. ‘If only I’d known we were going out to dinner, I’d have dressed up!’
‘Nonsense.’ Barry was eyeing her approvingly. ‘You look lovely as you are. In fact, one of the things I like so much about you, Gemma, is that you just don’t realise how lovely you are.’
Help! Kitty had always accused her of not being able to handle compliments, and she was right.
Sensing her awkwardness, Barry invited her to sit down. He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to us,’ he said. ‘And may there be many more evenings like this.’ His face became serious. ‘I like being with you, Gemma. I really do.’
His words made her tingle with expectation. This was so romantic! It had been so long since she’d gone on a date (partly through her own choice and partly through the lack of opportunity) that she wasn’t sure if she was acting in the right way. ‘Don’t be too eager,’ Kitty had always said, but she couldn’t help it.
‘I like being with you too, Barry.’ Then she took a huge slug of wine to try and hide the fact that she was blushing all over her face and goodness knows where else.
After dinner, during which they talked non-stop about his life in the paratroopers, Puddleducks, his family and hers, where they had gone to school and uni, Barry suggested they sat outside. As she stepped over the bit that led up to the deck, he held out his hand so she wouldn’t fall. The touch of his skin made her tingle all over again. It was so nice to feel looked after for a change!
He also insisted on draping a large brown rug over both of them as they sat sipping coffee outside the boat, watching others walk by. She’d always felt envious of boat owners in the evening, sitting there so cosily: a silent fleet who could, if they wished, set sail the next day. And now she was one of them! It made her feel special and for a moment, she was reminded of the princess outfit at Puddleducks.
‘Does your friend take his boat out on trips?’ she asked, trailing a finger in the water as a swan glided by with its downy cygnets.
Barry nodded. ‘He said he’d lend it to us next summer if we want.’ His eyes seemed to be searching hers carefully for a reaction. ‘That’s how long I’m going to be away for, you see. I won’t be back until at least June, so I would understand if you felt that was too long to wait.’
Gemma shivered with something she hadn’t felt for so long that she almost didn’t recognise it. It was that delicious mixture of apprehension and excitement because the person you liked also clearly liked you back.
But it was no good. Tell him, tell him, insisted the voice in her head. Granny had always been a stickler for the truth. You can’t go on until you tell him. It wouldn’t be fair.
‘I’d love to go on a trip with you,’ she said slowly, ‘but it would definitely have to be after Christmas.’ She took a deep breath. ‘In fact, there’s something I have to tell you.’
His eyes flickered and she recognised the feeling behind them. Apprehension. Fear. Just what she had felt nearly five years ago.
‘If you’d asked me to go away with you right now, I would have had to say no. In fact, I nearly said no to tonight.’
Another flicker. ‘Why?’
‘Because,’ said Gemma, looking out across the canal to the church with its tall spire piercing the night sky, ‘because I’m a married woman.’