Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
What a way to introduce himself to the area, speeding along the canal and crashing into my beloved boat. I pushed back against Jack and removed myself from our accidental embrace.
‘I’m saving you from yourself, you idiot,’ I said.
‘Now are you going to let me take over?’ I gestured at the tiller which was swinging freely as he’d failed to grab hold of it again.
The stern tone of my voice made it abundantly clear that if he didn’t agree, I was going to shove him out of the way and do it anyway.
‘I’m rather new to this and—’ He started to say.
‘Less talking, more action,’ I retorted, conscious that the boat was only moments away from hitting the bank. ‘Move.’
Jack nodded abruptly and tucked himself under the overhang of the cabin roof, watching me closely as I took hold of the tiller with one hand and leaned forward to adjust the throttle with my other.
The engine immediately stopped complaining and settled into a more comfortable chug. I gently pulled the tiller towards me, directing the bow of the boat out into the middle of the canal where there was a little more room.
‘Slow and steady wins the race,’ I said, repeating the instruction which Nana Rose had given when she’d first entrusted me with steering her precious boat. ‘The speed limit on this canal is four miles per hour,’ I explained. ‘And that’s a limit, not a target by the way.’
‘I wasn’t intentionally speeding,’ said Jack, affronted, a man clearly uncomfortable with admitting when he was in the wrong.
‘Nothing seemed to happen if I tried moving the tiller at a lower speed, and then I got concerned I was going to crash, so I accelerated to get more of a result with the steering, and then—’
‘—and then you crashed anyway. Right into the side of my boat. Contrary to what you seem to think, boating is not a contact sport.’ I gestured towards the Oxford Bookship, not trusting myself to turn and examine the damage properly. I dreaded to think what I would discover.
‘It was more of a scrape than an actual crash,’ he tried to defend himself, then his words tailed off as he saw my thunderous expression.
‘But I appreciate that’s semantics. I can only apologise about the incident.
It was certainly not my intention to damage your boat, and I of course accept full responsibility for the cost of any repairs which are required. ’
I ignored his apology, not being in the right frame of mind to deal with it for the time being.
He was obviously in the fortunate position of being able to throw money at his problems, but from my initial impression, the damage was probably bad enough to require hauling the boat out of the water for repainting, and no amount of cash would be sufficient compensation for the disruption that would cause to my life, let alone the effect of the emotional upheaval.
It was easier to lock that crippling worry up at the back of my mind for now and slip into teacher mode instead so I didn’t lash out at him again, or worse, burst into tears.
‘We’ll definitely get into that later when we’re not in quite such a precarious position.
But as I was trying to say, the trick with steering a canal boat is anticipation,’ I schooled him.
‘If you keep your wits about you, and prepare in advance for any obstacles you might be approaching, then you’ll prevent dramas before they can happen. ’
‘When I realised I was turning in the wrong direction, I thought if I went into reverse it would act like a brake,’ he said, still trying to defend his actions.
‘Nope. You just quickly lose whatever control you have. Which clearly wasn’t much, especially given the speed you were doing.’
‘The guy I bought the boat from said it was a good technique to use.’
I frowned, which caused a rivulet of rain to go into my right eye. I let go of the tiller briefly to wipe my face, causing Jack to tense.
‘There’s no need to brace for impact. I actually know what I’m doing.
And who was it who sold you the boat? They clearly don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.
They must have seen you coming a mile off.
It’s frankly irresponsible letting someone like you take possession of a vessel this size. ’
‘I’m not a complete novice on the water, and I did my research before buying the boat,’ he said defensively. ‘It had all the proper paperwork and I got it for a good price.’
‘Hmm, you believe that if you want to. And pottering around on an inflatable unicorn off the back of a super yacht does not count as water experience.’
‘I’ve never…’ Jack started, no doubt intending to argue back, but the glower I sent in his direction quickly silenced him.
Once we were safely out of any imminent danger, I put the engine into neutral and turned to face him properly.
‘Right. Time to talk. What exactly are your plans for this business of yours? I hope you’ve got more experience of bar management than you have of boat handling.’
Jack looked nervously around as if I were holding him hostage in the middle of the canal. Which to be fair, I kind of was.
‘I know what I’m doing. I have a sound business background and a solid plan in place.
I’m very invested in the venture, and I mean that from the financial and the emotional perspective.
’ He frowned. ‘I don’t know why I’m trying to justify myself to you.
Perhaps we should postpone this talk until another occasion.
Look, you’re getting drenched standing there at the tiller. Don’t you have a coat or something?’
‘I didn’t have time to grab it given I was reacting to an emergency situation.
Besides, proper boat people aren’t afraid of a little bit of water,’ I said, although I was admittedly starting to feel rather cold.
My favourite patchwork skirt and book-themed t-shirt combo was not exactly ideal gear for carrying out boating manoeuvres in the driving rain.
‘I’ve got a spare coat in the cabin,’ he said.
‘Good for you.’
‘I meant you can use it if you want.’
It was hardly the most generous of offers.
‘I’m fine as I am,’ I said. Unfortunately, my attempt at being a strong confident woman, unbothered by a bit of rain was somewhat undermined by the involuntary shiver which followed my statement.
‘I’ll go and fetch it,’ he said.
Jack retreated into the cabin and emerged a moment later with a Henri Lloyd fleece-lined waterproof sailing jacket which had probably cost more than my shop had taken in the last month.
He tentatively held it out towards me as if he expected me to snatch it from his hands and toss it into the water in disgust.
I made a great show of checking our surroundings before I let go of the tiller and reluctantly accepted the coat, feeling instantly warmer.
‘Thank you,’ I said grudgingly.
‘You’re welcome.’ He dipped his head in a strangely old-fashioned gesture.
‘Shall we get you moored up then?’ I suggested. The sooner I could get off this boat, the better.
‘You’ve done enough already. I wouldn’t want to put you out,’ he said. As a late attempt at politeness, it made zero sense.
I gestured around me. ‘If you hadn’t noticed, your boat is in the middle of the canal. Unless you’re expecting me to swim back to mine, we’re going to have to head towards the shore at some point. We might as well go to your mooring.’
Despite the logic in my statement, Jack still looked extremely reluctant.
‘Or you’ve had enough of boating already and have decided to take the boat back to its original owner?’ I asked hopefully.
He shook his head.
‘Fine, I guess I am taking a dip in the Oxford Canal after all,’ I said. I made as if I was going to clamber onto the stern railing in preparation for diving into the water.
‘No, stop, don’t jump,’ he cried out. With visible effort, he adjusted his tone to one suited to calming a nervous animal. ‘Why don’t we go to my mooring after all? That seems like a much safer option than diving in.’
I couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’m an excellent swimmer, you know.’
‘I’m sure you are. But who knows what’s lurking beneath the surface of this water. There could be shopping trolleys and all kinds of rubbish dumped in there. And isn’t there a risk of contracting … what’s it called? Weil’s disease? The thing from rats. It would be frankly irresponsible to get in.’
He was trying to be smart by echoing my earlier words back to me. It wound me up still further.
‘It’s a bit late to be worrying about stuff like that when you’ve already bought your boat.
If you’ve got such a low opinion of the place, I can’t understand why you wanted to move here.
Do you really imagine we all sit around letting people dump rubbish in the canal?
We take pride in our home. There are certainly no shopping trolleys.
The water’s definitely clean enough for swimming, although the Boating Association frowns upon it in case hullabaloos like you happen to be around.
As for Weil’s disease, there’s no risk of contracting it in the water if you keep your mouth closed. ’
‘I’m not sure that’s your forte,’ he shot back.
I sucked in a breath. ‘Wow, that’s harsh Mr Siddall, very harsh indeed. You’re being pretty bolshy for a man who’s dependent on me to get safely back to dry land.’
I waited for another apology but this time there was none forthcoming.
‘You were probably more concerned about your designer jacket going in the water than me,’ I grumbled.
He frowned, pretty much proving my point.
‘I guess this is a classic case of if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,’ I said, needing to fill the awkward silence.
‘So you concede that our only option is for me to steer us to your mooring? Feel free to make notes on how the professionals do it. You’ll find it useful when you move on to your next location.
’ Hopefully, I thought, you’ll quickly grow bored of this venture.
‘Oh I don’t have a continuous cruiser licence,’ he said, watching my expression to see if I was impressed that he’d got the lingo correct. I was not. ‘The Jericho Wine Barge is here to stay. Permanently. Hence the name.’
‘Who would have guessed it? You could call it the Wine Barge instead and then insert the location of wherever you happen to be staying at the time. It could be a quirky marketing ploy, plus you’d get to see much more of our nation’s beautiful waterways.’
Jack shook his head. ‘By the same token you could do that with the Bookship. What’s stopping you from moving around?’
I scowled at him in lieu of a response. I didn’t need to justify my decisions to anyone, particularly not him.
He shrugged. ‘Like you, I am here to stay.’
‘More’s the shame,’ I muttered.
‘What was that?’ he said.
‘Mooring’s the game,’ I adjusted, not wanting to extend the conversation any longer. I’d spent too long on this boat allowing the man to wind me up. I needed to get back to work. ‘Let’s get this vessel tied up and out of the way before someone else needs to come through.’