“Well,” said Eve. She could feel the color rising in her face, something that had not happened to her for so long she had almost forgotten what it felt like. She had not been so nervous since the days when, being young, other people’s reactions to what she said felt to be of critical importance. “I won’t need to live in the house I buy all the time. And I don’t mind where it is as long as it’s within reach of an airport.”
“Go on,” said Sally.
“So. We could pool our resources. Buy a house, and a boat if we can stretch to it. It would have to be a big house with enough space and ways in and out so we wouldn’t have to be living together when I’m home. Only, I’d have somewhere to come back to where I wouldn’t be alone.”
Sally touched her hand. “We’d need space for at least two boats, don’t you think?”
“Have you thought all this, too? A house by a canal which is a home to us both, and somewhere for Anastasia and Trompette to moor up?”
“It had crossed my mind. It would have to be near Chester, if we want Anastasia to be close to Owen.”
“The Middlewich Branch.”
Eve stood up and did a sort of jig in the narrow space between the table and the wall.
Sitting down again, she said, “You’re like a gelling agent that bonds molecules together. The rest of us are all separate particles, but you can cement us together.”
“Doesn’t Anastasia do that?”
“You remember you told me Owen said she tried not to have too much influence over him when he was growing up. She stands tall and strong and she’s an inspiration to other people, but she doesn’t reach out and draw them to her like you do.”
“You’re the hand truck.”
“The hand truck?”
“You move things forward.”
“Can’t I be something more elegantly engineered than a sack truck? A transport hub?”
“All right, I’ll agree to conveyor belt.”
When they had eaten the shepherd’s pie (“I wonder if a dash of Worcestershire sauce would help the flavor?” Eve said), Sally said:
“You’ll be sitting in a departure lounge listening for flight announcements and I’ll be sitting on the canal bank listening to a moorhen calling for its chicks.”
“Or,” said Eve, “you’ll be scraping the ice off the cap of the water tank and trying to feel your fingers through your gloves, and I’ll be sitting in the warm with a cup of coffee in my hand, watching the snow falling.”
“I’ll still be the lucky one.”
“Lucky for me I met you.”
“Lucky for me I met you and Anastasia.”
“Lucky for Trompette she met—”
“That’s it. I’m off back to Grimm for some sleep.”
“We can make this work, though, can’t we?”
“Well, I know we’re all made up of matter and are subject to the laws of physics,” Sally said, “but even if we can’t, strictly speaking, have free will, we also can’t predict how other people will behave.”
“Annoying, isn’t it?” said Eve.
* * *
IT IS RAINING AND THE windows of the narrowboat Number One, moored on a wooded section of the towpath in Uxbridge, are steamed up, rendered opaque by the breath of six people and a dog packed into the kitchen. The folding chairs from the front well have been brought through, and Arthur is sitting on one of these in the doorway of the middle cabin, looking like a man who has an escape route uppermost in his mind. On the other, tucked in the space between the sink and the cooker, Trompette sits, knitting, looking down at the work in her hands. The four spaces round the table are occupied by Anastasia, Sally, Eve and Owen. Noah is under the table, nose on paws, watching the movement of their feet as they shift position in their seats, either because he hopes this will yield some clue as to the outcome of the discussion or because he is worried that one of them will tread on him.
“We need to know,” Sally says to Anastasia, “that you’re prepared to carry on making an effort not to die.”
Anastasia looks ill. She has cut her hair even shorter than normal, expecting it to fall out, and has lost weight. These two changes combine to give her a craggier but more regal appearance.
“I’ve been through all that,” she says, “with Arthur.”
They all swivel round and look at Arthur. He takes out his harmonica and plays a tender, lyrical little tune.
“That’s all right, then,” says Sally. “So, you should know, Eve and I have a plan.”
“Not another Easy Plan,” Anastasia says. “Because it isn’t going to be easy.”
“It can’t be an Easy Plan,” says Sally, “because I have abandoned all pretense of being Yasmin, so we are short of a Y.”
“If Trompette is part of the plan now,” Anastasia says, “it will have to be the East Plan. I don’t think I like the sound of that.”
“Or the Eats Plan,” says Trompette.
“What about me,” Owen says, “and Arthur? What if we want to be part of this plan? We’d have too many vowels. Not enough consonants. We’ll have to use surnames as well. What’s yours, Trompette?”
“Stop it, all of you,” says Eve, raising her voice, waiting until they are looking at her. “I have a name for it. It’s Plan Number One. And I know it is going to work.”
Acknowledgments
I appreciate the skill, support and enthusiasm of the team at Transworld, especially Jane Lawson, Alison Barrow and Kate Samano, and at Flatiron, New York, especially Caroline Bleeke.
I am grateful to my early readers, Fiona Clarke, Rebecca McKay and Felicity Zeigler, to Paul Youngson and Mary Wooding for practical guidance, and to Elizabeth Crowley, Bev Murray and Ceri Lloyd for encouragement.
I am indebted to a number of excellent books on the history of the canals and the lives of those involved with them, then and now. In particular: Water Ways: A Thousand Miles along Britain’s Canals by Jasper Winn, Barging Round Britain: Exploring the History of Our Nation’s Canals and Waterways by John Sergeant and David Bartley, Number One by Tom Foxon and Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt. The vlog at www.cruisingthecut.co.uk was also useful, and the Nicholson Waterways Guides were indispensable.
Recommend The Narrowboat Summer for your next book club!
Reading Group Guide available at:
www.readinggroupgold.com
Also by Anne Youngson
Meet Me at the Museum
About the Author
Anne Youngson lives in Oxfordshire with her husband. Her debut novel, Meet Me at the Museum, was shortlisted for the Costa First Novel Award. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
1. The Number One
2. To Ricksmanworth
3. To Milton Keynes
4. To Norton Junction
5. To Solihull
6. Birmingham
7. To Gnosall
8. To Chester
9. To Uxbridge
Acknowledgments
Also by Anne Youngson
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by Flatiron Books
THE NARROWBOAT SUMMER. Copyright © 2020 by Anne Youngson. All rights reserved. For information, address Flatiron Books, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.flatironbooks.com
Cover design by Julianna Lee
Cover illustration by Sarah Maycock
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Youngson, Anne, author.
Title: The narrowboat summer / Anne Youngson.
Description: First US Edition. | New York: Flatiron Books, 2021. | Originally published in Great Britain in 2020 by Doubleday"—Title page verso. |
Identifiers: LCCN 2020047446 | ISBN 9781250764614 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250764607 (ebook)
Classification: LCC PR6125.O946 N37 2021 | DDC 823/.92—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020047446
eISBN 9781250764607
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
Originally published in Great Britain in 2020 by Doubleday, an imprint of Transworld Publishers
First US Edition: 2021
The Narrowboat Summer Page 28