Chapter 15 #2
‘Shiiiiit,’ I said again, the elongated vowel coming out as something close to a wail of frustration, bordering on panic.
If the rush from the students yesterday had been anything to go by, I might be in for another decent day of much needed trade.
I couldn’t afford to turn these new customers away because I had no power.
But panicking wasn’t going to help me sort this situation.
I needed to pull myself together and solve the problem, fast.
‘Time for a backup plan,’ I told Hilda, not that she seemed in the least bit concerned by the crisis.
She’d taken advantage of the commotion to haul herself up on my bed and was stretched out under my duvet as if she belonged there.
I smiled as she smacked her lips contentedly, welcoming the brief distraction from my anxiety.
If she got the slightest indication I was amused by her behaviour, she’d do it all the time.
Although theoretically the bed was designed for two humans, the expectation was that the two humans would have to snuggle closely to sleep.
I knew for a fact that Hilda liked to stretch out in bed, and I’d probably end up on the floor if we attempted to share.
Plus, the aforementioned doggy morning breath made it a distinctly unappealing option.
‘Get down, Hilda,’ I said firmly. ‘Your bed is there.’ But she yawned pointedly and ignored me. ‘Might have known you’d take advantage of any sign of weakness, my girl,’ I said. ‘But yes, you’re right, I should chill out. At least there are other options, albeit not ideal.’
The backup plan was running the engine. It was something I tried to avoid doing when I was moored up because fuel cost more than shore power, and it was noisy, which didn’t help the peaceful ambiance I tried to cultivate in the shop. But I didn’t have a choice about it now.
I scooped up my other set of keys and opened the little cupboard by the stern doors where the engine control panel was hidden away.
I checked the gauges first, grimacing as I realised I had very little fuel left.
I thought back, trying to remember when I’d last filled up.
Not recently enough. Another impending expense to add to the ever-increasing tally.
I turned the ignition key, and the engine spluttered in response.
‘Come on old thing, you can do it,’ I said reassuringly.
‘That’s an interesting technique,’ came a voice from the towpath garden.
I looked up from my task to see Jack watching me.
He’d ditched the builder get-up and was back in his usual ‘Man in finance’ garb, although I couldn’t un-remember the unexpected muscles which had shown themselves underneath his t-shirt.
I was suddenly very conscious of my raggedy appearance.
I crossed my arms protectively, wishing I’d taken the time to put proper underwear on rather than merely pulling clothes on over the top of my pyjamas.
I glanced down and realised that my pyjama bottoms were in fact sticking out below my skirt.
‘What is?’ I asked, stupidly allowing myself to engage.
‘Talking to the engine to get it to function,’ he said, nodding his head at the control panel. ‘Does the technique normally work?’
‘Look, Jack, I’m having a bit of a day of it, and I’m really not in the mood for your brand of humour today,’ I said, praying he’d get the message and leave me alone.
He did not.
‘As a novice boater observing a much more experienced one in action, I was merely making enquiries for my own potential future use,’ he said, still keeping a completely straight face, although his overly elaborate explanation told me he was continuing to make a joke at my expense.
‘Can I help with it at all?’ he added, stepping closer to the boat.
I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a surprised laugh. ‘Seriously? The man whose engine sounds like it’s held together by rubber bands is asking me that question? Do you honestly think you could be in any way helpful right now?’
‘I thought you could do with a laugh. It felt like the polite thing to say. I mean realistically you and I both know I’d be as much use as a frozen teapot.’
At least he was self-aware enough to admit it.
‘Well, thanks for being neighbourly and trying to cheer me up,’ I said begrudgingly.
‘Go on, I know you’re itching to say it,’ he added. Now he was letting the spark of mischief show in his eyes.
‘Fine, you know the phrase is chocolate teapot, right?’
He nodded, contemplating me like I was the most interesting person he’d seen in a while. ‘Sure I do, but I thought I’d put my own twist on it, give you something to take your mind off your woes for a second.’
I pulled a face, torn between amusement and irritation at his game.
‘Cheers for the thought. It was a kind gesture, I guess,’ I said. ‘Now you’ve made me smile and we’ve established there’s nothing practical you can contribute, feel free to carry on your normal business. I’ve got everything under control.’
Jack put his hand on his heart, pretending to be overcome by my statement. ‘I made you smile. And now you’ve made me smile.’ He gestured between us both. ‘See how this could work, new neighbour? We don’t have to be at odds with each other.’
‘Don’t push your luck,’ I said, although there wasn’t any real rancour behind my words.
Painfully conscious of his steady gaze on me, I tried to focus my attention back on the control panel and turned the key again, muttering a plea for it to start working.
‘Come on, good little engine, you can do it,’ said Jack. I actually think he was being serious.
Thankfully, it proved second time lucky, and the engine woke from its slumber and started purring smoothly. I glanced over the gauges and checked all the dials were at the correct levels. To my relief, everything was running as it should.
‘Now that is how a well-maintained engine should sound,’ I couldn’t resist pointing out to Jack with satisfaction, my stress levels temporarily reduced.
‘After a few attempts, of course,’ he said. Did he wink at me?
I nearly winked back in a reflex response which I caught just in time and covered by glancing at my watch.
‘Late opening, is it?’ asked Jack.
‘My alarm didn’t go off,’ I said, my tension headache ratcheting up once again.
Half an hour late opening. At least it was only half an hour.
It could have been significantly worse. I could carry on with my day nearly as normal.
Although the next pressing problem to deal with would be either replacing the power cable or filling up the fuel tank.
The former option would be both a cheaper and more long-term solution, but the chandlery run by the Oxford Boating Association only operated for ad hoc hours, and I’d be lucky to catch the volunteers opening up the shop before the official start of the summer holidays.
Most of us full-timers kept a stock of extra kit for emergencies, and I was kicking myself for not including a spare power cable among my just-in-case supplies.
Perhaps someone could lend me one. Once my phone was charged up and functioning again, I’d drop Bill and Rozina a text to see if they had one, I decided.
If they didn’t have a spare, Eric would probably know someone who did.
I glanced across at the Jericho Wine Barge.
There was another option which I hadn’t explored, and I’d seen only yesterday that my neighbour had a plethora of spare electrical cables.
I pushed the thought back. There was no way I was going to ask Jack for assistance.
I hated appearing anything less than capable, even to my friends, let alone to my irritating new neighbour.
He’d never let me live it down. But what was the cost of a bit of personal dignity compared to the price of a tank of fuel, the practical side of my brain reminded me.
My priority had to be getting my business up and running for the day.
‘Jack, can I…’ I started to say, then I spotted another figure walking down the towpath towards us. I waved at Liam, who greeted me with a beam in return, although it unsurprisingly dimmed when he spotted my neighbour.
‘Morning, Molly,’ he called out. ‘How are you this beautiful day?’
‘What were you going to ask?’ asked Jack, emphatically ignoring Liam’s presence.
‘Not to worry, it’s all in hand now,’ I said, greatly relieved Liam had shown up when he had.
Jack hesitated, his shoulders tense.
‘Honestly, everything’s fine,’ I insisted.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Jack, turning on his heel and stomping back to his own boat.
‘Was it something I said?’ said Liam with an expression of exaggerated offence on his face.
‘I think he had something to check on,’ I said, somewhat surprised to find myself making an excuse for my neighbour.
‘I don’t mind. I’m used to being on the receiving end of Jack Siddall’s attitude problem.’ Liam’s laughter was clearly forced. ‘Anyway, that’s enough about him. How’s your day going?’ He held up his vlogging camera.
‘It’s not the best. Is that thing recording?’
‘Sorry, what was that?’ Liam cupped his other hand around his ear. ‘I can’t hear very well because of the engine noise.’
He still looked blank and gestured towards the engine, miming for me to switch it off.
‘No can do. I’m afraid I have to leave the engine on for the time being. I’m having a cable issue,’ I repeated.
‘A table issue?’ Liam looked confused.
I gestured for him to come aboard. He hopped on with alacrity, the little red light on his camera still glowing away.
‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong with your table?’
‘It’s actually a cable issue. Or rather, a lack of cable issue. The cable in question seems to have gone walkabouts. And would you mind turning the camera off? I’m sorry to be a pain, but I’m not really in the mood for being filmed today.’
‘Someone’s pinched your cable?’ asked Liam, his shock making him not notice my request. ‘That’s terrible, I’m so sorry.’
‘It certainly is.’