Chapter 27
Amy: Rock The Boat
It’s been nearly seventeen months now since James went, and I’m still waiting for things to get easier.
Every day I think maybe this will be the first day that I don’t cry over him.
Maybe my feelings will simply wear out, or my tears will run dry.
But so far it’s not happened. I’ve yet to make it through a day without crying about him at least once.
How crazy is that? It doesn’t help. It doesn’t change anything.
But I just don’t seem to be able to stop.
Is it going to be like this for the rest of my life?
Will I eventually die from chronic dehydration because I’ve cried so much that my body has run out of water?
And what about the salt? Where does that come from?
Surely that’s going to run out soon? It’s not like I’ve been eating extra salt since he’s been gone.
Extra sugar – yes. Definitely. No point trying to pretend my intake of cake and chocolate hasn’t doubled, or possibly tripled, since James went.
So, if tears had sugar in them, there’d be a plentiful supply.
But the source of all this salt – well it’s a mystery.
Anyway, enough of that. For now. Time to switch on cheerful mode, as best I can.
I have to just keep reminding myself that one day I will master the art of connecting with him.
That’ll help me feel more positive. And besides, this weekend should be better than most – it’s going to be quite the adventure.
Who’d have thought Olive would be up for having a hen night, never mind a whole hen weekend?
It sounds weird, but I think this is probably going to be the loveliest hen do I’ve ever been on.
There won’t be the usual pressure to do something wild, and I can’t imagine we’re really going to be expected to pick up any guys.
Actually, with a bit of luck we might be able to steer clear of guys altogether.
Pun definitely intended. But, of course, you won’t get the pun, because I haven’t told you yet what we’re doing.
So, the plan is that we spend a long weekend on a boat on the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal – pretty cool huh?
We’ll sail – is that the right word? I don’t know.
It’s a canal barge. Can you sail something which doesn’t have sails?
Well, whatever. We’ll travel on the boat along the canal and moor it for the night (see, I’ve learnt that one – no parking of boats) close to a pub.
Then it’s basically a case of eat, sleep, repeat.
I have no idea what to pack. Wellies, sandals, pumps?
Shorts, jeans, a dress? Think I’d better give Elle a call and see what she’s bringing.
I’m so happy that she’s coming along with us.
I’d half expected she wouldn’t be able to, with Fridays and Saturdays being so busy in the shop.
Luckily her mum lives close by, and she’s going to help out, and the staff in the shop are lovely girls, and they’ll put in extra hours if need be to make sure all the orders get out on time.
Elle’s such a kind boss, and they appreciate that.
What I will pack right now is my favourite jumper. It’s a bit big on me – it belonged to James after all – but it’s so warm and cosy, and no doubt the evenings will be chilly on the water. Okay, so it’s not like being on the open seas, but you never know. It’s only June. Better be on the safe side.
Elle’s coming to pick me up in an hour and she’s going to drive us to Gloucester, where we board the boat, so I’d better get a move on.
Wow! This boat is completely amazing! I absolutely love it.
I thought going on a canal boat was going to be slumming it a little, or more likely a lot.
I had visions of a damp, musty old shack of a barge, with facilities and hygiene somewhere on the scale between a neglected motorway services hotel room and a Thai prison cell (not that I’ve been in the latter, obviously).
But not a bit of it. Honestly, it’s like being in a compact version of a luxury boutique hotel suite.
There are all sorts of facilities you wouldn’t expect on a boat – a proper oven, a mini dishwasher, and even USB charging points.
And then there are the finishing touches: luxury toiletries, the fluffiest towels, pretty jugs filled with fragrant sweet peas and stocks, and a plate of home-made chocolate chip and walnut cookies.
There are berths for all six of us, and it can even sleep another two people.
Not that we’re expecting anyone else to join us.
I’d be very surprised if anyone in our little group is planning to go out scouting for talent on the canal.
But you never know. I mean, as Elle said, she is long overdue a new boyfriend.
Come to think of it, maybe Elle and I shouldn’t be sharing a cabin.
I don’t want to be in the way if she happens to find some gorgeous bloke stranded on the tow path or something.
Olive found a little book online on canal boating tips and etiquette.
It might not sound like the most fascinating read, but she’s been sharing snippets of it with us on our new Hen Weekend WhatsApp group, and it’s surprisingly interesting.
Did you know that on a canal you’re meant to move to the righthand side to pass an oncoming boat?
So it’s the opposite of driving, which is going to feel really counter-intuitive.
The emphasis is on slowing down. You’re not meant to go faster than four miles per hour – can you imagine? James could cycle six or seven times that fast, and a lot faster still on a sprint.
Basically, if you start ‘creating a breaking wash’ – in other words making waves on the embankment – you know you’re going too fast. If you’re passing a moored boat, you have to slow down to the point where you’re barely moving.
And when it comes to mooring, it’s expected that you stay well away from water points, bridges and lock approaches.
And talking of locks, well, they have a whole other set of rules.
But I won’t go into all of those right now.
You’re also restricted as to when you can travel.
Canal boat etiquette dictates that you shouldn’t cruise between 8pm and 8am.
I guess it’s all part of the whole slowing down thing, and since you can’t travel, it’s a good excuse to get back on dry land and find a pub for the evening.
That’s actually one of the top tips for boating holidays – moor up for the night close to a pub so you have the option to eat out.
The galley kitchen on our boat is really well equipped, but it is a mini holiday after all.
We’re feeling rather pleased with ourselves right now.
We’ve made it to the place where we’d planned to spend the night, and we’ve just moored the boat like we’re complete pros at this.
Honestly it was so smooth, you’d have thought we’d been doing this all our lives.
I say we, but actually Olive, Liz and Janice have done pretty much all of it.
They are just so smart and capable. Sarah and Elle and I are so impressed with them.
We’ve all been keen to muck in and do whatever needs doing, but they are naturals and just keep taking the lead.
We feel like we, as the younger ones, ought to be doing the hard work, but the older ladies seem to be having a ball.
So the three of us are now on kitchen and entertainment duties, although Sarah’s in charge really in the kitchen – she can’t help herself.
So, it’s now eight o’clock, and we’ve had a glass of sherry.
Who knew it was so nice? I thought it went out with the 1970s, but this drink definitely needs to make a comeback.
We’re just about to get off the boat, or should I say disembark, and head to The Anchor Inn, when there’s an almighty bang, and our boat is shunted as far as it will move while tethered.
A couple of the empty glasses smash onto the floor.
Janice hastily picks up shards of glass and the rest of us rush round to the other side and there it is, the cause of the commotion – a sleek, modern-style canal boat right up against our boat and at such an awkward angle it is managing to block the canal completely.
We peer over the side, trying to check for any damage to our boat.
Thankfully it looks as though our boat has survived the incident unscathed.
These big bumpers on the side really do work.
Four arguably attractive men appear, looking pretty sheepish, from the inside of the offending boat. One of them calls over.
‘Evening ladies, I am so, so sorry. Are you all all right?’
‘We are, no thanks to you,’ retorts Olive. She’s making no secret of the fact that she is decidedly unimpressed. ‘You boys need to learn how to control your boat.’
‘You’re absolutely right. We were hoping for some proper training from the owner, but he was in a rush and the handover lasted all of three minutes. So we’re rather winging it, I’m afraid,’ replies the same man.
‘Well, it’s hardly rocket science. Although admittedly, your boat does look a little more space age than ours. I’m assuming this is the first time you’ve piloted a canal boat?’
‘What gave it away?’
Olive clearly feels this rather flippant reply does not merit an answer, and simply glares at him.
‘I do apologise again. We certainly didn’t mean to disrupt your evening.’
‘Well, I suppose we’d better try to help you, given that you’re now blocking the canal. You know you really shouldn’t be on the move at this time of night anyway.’
‘Really?’
‘You clearly didn’t study your canal etiquette before setting off.’
‘Canal etiquette? That’s a thing?’
‘Yes, of course it’s a thing.’ Olive tuts loudly at him. ‘Right, well, I suppose we’d better help you out of this mess. Permission to come aboard?’
‘Certainly!’