Chapter 27 #2
And Olive nimbly jumps across from our boat to theirs. Honestly, you’d never think she’s in her seventies.
‘Come on, Amy, you’d better help me.’ I look rather doubtfully at her, but she hasn’t given me much choice.
I’m really hoping I don’t fall in the water and make a complete fool of myself.
Thankfully, I manage to jump safely across after her onto the men’s boat.
It’s very stylish. Just a shame these guys don’t have a clue what they’re doing.
Luckily, Olive soon manages to manoeuvre the boat so the canal is no longer blocked, and moors it expertly, calling out instructions to the men so they know how to help.
The man who first spoke to us turns out to be the boss of some kind of super-successful tech start up, and it’s going so well he’s brought his small team away to celebrate the anniversary of founding the company.
He’s called Hugo, and he introduces Olive and me to the rest of the team slightly formally, almost like he’s still in work mode.
I’m guessing this guy needs to get out a bit more.
‘May I introduce Howard, our finance director, and this is Ravi, who takes care of our client relationship management, and last, but by no means least, Steve, who looks after our app development.’
These guys look like they’ve never been on board a boat before in their lives.
Even their clothes look like they’re fresh off the hanger.
Super-smart shorts and deck shoes clearly purchased specially for the trip.
Hugo seems to have got over the embarrassment of the collision, but the other three are still looking pretty dejected.
I’m guessing they’re not close friends with failure.
Steve is probably in his mid-to-late thirties.
He looks very slick, no doubt more at home in an office or a wine bar than in the countryside.
Ravi is probably about the same age as Elle and me.
He’s the traditional tall, dark and handsome type – very good looking.
But, of course, I’m not looking. Not in an eyeing up way.
More as an objective observer. But perhaps Elle might be interested in him – or one of the other guys.
Unless they’re married. But no, a quick scan of their hands would suggest they’re all single, or at least none of them are wearing wedding rings.
So, if they’re so inclined there’s a fair bit of talent for the single ladies to choose from.
I don’t include myself in that category.
Olive suddenly checks her watch.
‘Goodness, we’d better get back to our own boat. We’ve not eaten.’ She hops back across onto our boat. She makes it look so easy. I follow her slightly more cautiously. Now she mentions it, I am kind of hungry.
‘So will you allow us to make it up to you?’ Hugo calls, clearly genuinely sorry for the trouble they have caused. ‘Dinner on us at the pub?’
Olive looks a bit wary of the offer. She turns to us.
‘Ladies? What do you think?’
Is it really a good idea to be hanging out with some strange guys we’ve only just met? On the other hand, they seem like a good bunch. And it’s just dinner at a country pub after all.
The Anchor Inn is a very old traditional brick building, although much of the brickwork is hidden by an abundance of hanging baskets overflowing with pink and white cascades of fuchsias, pelargoniums and petunias.
The exterior is by no means misleading. Inside, the Anchor Inn proves to be just as much the quintessential English pub – low beamed ceilings, dark wood tables, and a gastro pub menu enticing enough to tempt even the least hungry customer.
I’m starving after an afternoon on the boat.
I thought it was sea air that was meant to give you an appetite, but it seems canal air can have the same effect, and I eagerly tuck into a steaming risotto drizzled with avocado oil and topped with parmesan – yum!
The food is superb, and the company is good too.
We all get on well, once Olive has set aside her mild irritation with the men over their boating incompetence.
Steve and Elle seem to have hit it off. Meanwhile I end up chatting to Ravi for a lot of the evening.
He seems cheerful enough, at first glance, but I soon start to notice a distant look clouding his dark brown eyes now and again, and it turns out he’s been going through a breakup recently, throwing himself into his work and not doing much else, in an attempt to get over it.
‘Have you started dating again then?’ I ask. And then blush furiously as I realise that might have given him the wrong impression. I’m really not asking him out, or anything like that.
‘No, not yet,’ he replies. ‘All a bit fresh still. But I know I need to. I will. How about you?’
‘Me? No!’ I realise the question shouldn’t surprise me, and yet I do find it weird when people ask about my dating news. I so often forget that others see me as single.
Fortunately, I’m able to steer Ravi round to less awkward topics of conversation, like travelling.
We’ve both seen quite a lot of the world, and we discover we have three overlaps in our top five favourite places we’ve visited: Florence, Sydney and Singapore.
So between that and both working in marketing, it turns out we have plenty to talk about.
By around ten o’clock I’m feeling tired.
I know, it’s true, I’m such a lightweight.
I’m so rarely out late these days. And it’s a bit embarrassing that the older ladies are still drinking merrily while I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
Anyway, when Ravi says he’s ready to call it a night too, and offers to walk me back to the boat, I gladly accept.
We step outside the pub and it’s one of those lovely summer nights when it’s so warm you could be in the Mediterranean.
Ravi is such easy company, and there’s no shortage of conversation.
‘Well, this is me,’ I say as we reach the hen weekend boat. Not that he’s likely to have forgotten what our boat looks like.
He stops and turns to look at me. There’s a brief silence.
‘I know we’re neither of us in the right place just now, but I really like you, Amy. And I think, well, what do you think? Do you think maybe there could be a chance for an “us” when more time has passed, when we’re both feeling more back to normal?’
I don’t know what to say. How do I say I’m still in a relationship? I might look like I’m single on the outside, but inside I don’t feel any more single than when James was right here with me, alive.
‘How about we set a date?’ he adds. ‘If we’re both feeling less shell shocked, and we’re both still single by the end of the year, how about we agree to meet up for a date? Maybe go out together on New Year’s Eve?’
‘What, like in the movie?’
‘What movie?’
‘An Affair to Remember – and then in Sleepless in Seattle as well, except that’s on Valentine’s Day.’
‘No, don’t think I’ve seen either of those,’ he says.
‘Really? You should.’
‘Well, I’m not much of a cinephile.’
‘Oh.’ James was a big movie buff. Like I am.
‘But duly noted,’ he adds. ‘And I’ll message you, so you can remind me about the film titles. And maybe see you on New Year’s Eve?’ He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek.
He’s very sweet, and a real gentleman, but I’m feeling a sense of relief that he only kissed me on the cheek. How could I possibly feel any differently by New Year’s Eve?
Ten minutes later and I’m snuggled up in bed, alone.
The whole thing with meeting Ravi has strangely left me feeling a bit fragile, missing James more than ever, and I just want to wrap myself up in him – and his favourite jumper is the next best thing.
It would have been ideal if it was cold on board.
But, of course, this boat is not cold at all.
And now I’m roasting. Maybe I should sleep in his T-shirt instead – it’s from years ago when we went to see The Waterboys in concert.
I’m just about to change quickly when the cabin door is flung wide open and in bursts a rather tipsy Elle, who collapses on her bed in a fit of giggles.
‘Oh my god, Amy, you should have stayed to the end of the evening, it was so funny…’ and in crashes an even more tipsy Steve. Not looking where he’s going, he trips over my bag and ends up half on top of Elle on her bed.
Ah, now this could be awkward. Perhaps I’d better bunk down for the night on one of the pull-out beds in the living area. I don’t want to get in the way of true love – or lust at any rate.
‘Well, I think I’ll get some fresh air and leave you guys in peace.’
‘Goodnight then,’ replies Steve, clearly keen to get to know Elle better.
‘Don’t go, Amy.’
I look at Elle questioningly.
‘No, really, stay,’ she adds.
Steve is now nodding. A bit too eagerly. Really? How much has Elle had to drink?
‘No I don’t think so. Thanks all the same. Not really my thing,’ I reply, grabbing my duvet and heading out of the cabin door.
‘No! You go!’ she commands, pointing at Steve. ‘You stay!’ she orders me, before adding ‘please’. Okay. My bad. She wasn’t after a threesome. Thank goodness for that.
Steve looks disappointed, but dutifully heads clumsily back out of the cabin, with a dejected, ‘Good night, ladies.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Elle gets up and shuts the door firmly behind Steve. She flops back down onto her bunk, in another fit of laughter. ‘Sorry about that, Amy. You okay?’
‘I’m fine. But don’t kick him out on my account. I can sleep in the living area. No one will mind.’
‘I’ll mind! Honestly, I really don’t want to sleep with him. He’s cool, but not my type. Let’s just forget about men for the night. Baileys and chocolate, that’s what we need.’
Well, I’m not going to say no to Baileys and chocolate, but I can’t promise to forget about men for a whole night – at least not one man.