by Julia Green
Mia watched the innocent green water of the canal as the boat bobbed on its mooring. It didn’t bear thinking about. A small child, slipping over the edge. No one hears the splash. Circles of ripples; a spiral of bubbles. Silence.
Poor, poor Shannon. How did you carry on after something like that?
Evie and Mia watched two damsel flies hovering along the line of reeds. A moorhen scuttled out from under the bank.
‘So, what’s going on with Shannon and Joe?’
‘He’s not really interested. Doesn’t want to be tied down with a child. Who does?’
Mia frowned.
‘Sorry, but you’ll find out. You don’t think so now. But you will.’ Evie started to untie the mooring rope. Mia took the empty mugs back down into the darkness of the cabin.
No I won’t. It’ll be different with me and my baby.
Mia curled herself up tighter on the bed. She rubbed a space in the condensation on the window and looked outside on to the canal. The water was smooth, not like the fast flowing river they’d left behind.
The small child toddles along the uneven deck. Ducks squabble among the reeds. A swan, perhaps, hisses at the hand stretched out towards it. Then the splash, the flailing arms. Bubbles.
Up till now Mia had felt quite settled, almost comfortable with Evie, in spite of her moods. Today though it felt different. There was a new note in Evie’s voice. An edginess in the way she moved. Mia wondered again what had happened to her. What sort of ‘trouble’ she’d been in. Was her story as terrible as Shannon’s?
The more she thought about it, the less it seemed to make sense. Shannon hadn’t seemed like someone who’d lost a baby like that. The way she’d talked to Mia. You could tell she liked the idea of Mia’s baby, was a bit jealous even, but not like someone who’d had a baby and it had died. If anything, it was Evie who seemed to be the troubled one. The moody one. What if, Mia started to wonder, what if it was Evie’s own story she’d just told, and not Shannon’s at all? She shivered.
She ought to go up and help Evie on deck, but instead she got out the two new postcards she’d bought at the post office in the last town they’d travelled through.
Dear Dad, just want you to know I’m still OK, but I’m sorry for all the trouble and I miss you. I don’t have any money left so could you put some in my account and I promise I will pay you back when I can get a job or something. Love Mia.
She turned the second one over. She was about to write Dear Becky, but on impulse she wrote Will instead.
*
Dear Will, how’s things? Miss you lots. Think of me next time you go along the beach. Pick up a pebble and wish me luck. Mia.
Writing their names made them feel closer. She put the cards in her pocket ready to post next time they stopped. She liked the feel of the card against her leg, a sort of connection with Will and Dad, reminding her they were there. Even as she travelled further away.
Instead of backs of offices and houses and narrow gardens stretching down to the scruffy towpath, they’d now reached open countryside. The canal kept parallel with a road for a while longer; heavy lorries whined up the hill and there was a background hum of traffic, but soon the canal wound in a broad curve along the valley bottom away from the main road and the only sounds were the engine throb and the gently swooshing of water against the bows. Mia went out on to the front deck. It was cold this morning, although the sun was shining through a thin veil of cloud. She could see her breath. White puffs of smoke.
Dragon’s breath, they used to call it on frosty mornings when they walked down the lane to the primary school at Whitecross. Dad walked them down there, Mia, Laura and Kate, and usually he carried Mia’s bag because she was the littlest and got tired. He’d be there again in the afternoon, waiting in the playground in the sea of mums. He was quite a novelty: not many other fathers did the daily pick up. The women teased and joked with him and it made Mia cross even though she didn’t know why back then. She didn’t know the word flirting, which Kate used accusingly.
Back then, the three of them were still waiting for Mum to return. They expected her any day. They hadn’t understood that she was never coming back. When Mia ran out of her classroom at the end of the day, she’d throw her book bag into Dad’s stomach, and he’d whisk her up in his arms and hold her close. He didn’t say how much he was missing Mum. None of them did. When they walked back up the lane Dad held her small hand in his large one. ‘Car coming!’ he’d yell, and they would squeeze into the hedgerow out of the way. She could feel his body trembling as he pressed her back from the edge. Danger, safety. Always the two together, one edged around with the other.
Mia wrapped her fleece round her tighter. She hadn’t thought about all those things Dad had done for her in a long while.
Ahead of the barge, mist rose like steam above the water. A moorhen peeped and scurried into the reed bank. On both sides of the canal the view opened up on to fields and distant hills. Hardly a house in sight now, just the odd cluster of farm buildings and every so often a stone bridge over the canal where a lane crossed over.
Mia watched the way sun reflected off the water on to the stone sides of the bridge in ripples of light. She was beginning to notice things she would never have bothered with before. Moving so slowly, the little things that changed seemed more important. Underneath, though, the bubble of worry was growing. How much longer could she really keep going like this, on Evie’s boat, with no money and no idea how to get any? She still hadn’t phoned Mum to say she was coming. In her own mind, she couldn’t see further than the long line of canals and rivers crisscrossing the map. She couldn’t imagine ever reaching anywhere.
‘Do you want to steer for a bit?’ Evie called from the back of the boat. Mia edged her way along the side, balancing herself. She’d got used to the feeling now, was less scared that she’d tip backwards into the water. She knew it wasn’t very deep, even if she did; nothing like the river that would whirl you along and under as if you were a dead branch or a bundle of rags.
Or a drowning baby.
Evie sat in the open doorway while Mia took the tiller.
It was an easy straight stretch of water. She plucked up courage to talk again.
‘Evie? Would you tell me? What happened to you? You said you’d both been in trouble. You and Shannon.’
Evie sighed. ‘Very boring. You don’t want to know.’
‘Yes I do. Please.’
‘Not now. Not right after telling you about Shannon. Another day maybe. See how I feel.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
October 25th
‘The baby’s head is becoming more rounded and it has eyelids. Its muscles are developing and it is moving about inside the uterus much more. It is now about 6.5 cm long, but still weighs only 18 g.’
Another morning, clear and sunny. The air was chilled though. Mia had to borrow an extra jumper from Evie’s bag of charity-shop clothes. After breakfast, they settled themselves on the deck and Mia knew Evie was getting herself ready to talk.
‘Ready then? My story this morning.’
Mia nodded. She was scared she might say the wrong thing and put her off, so she kept quiet. Evie talked in a flat, low voice, without expression. She didn’t look at Mia the whole time.
‘Well, it starts with the usual things. Loathing school. Couldn’t see the point. Teachers on another planet. So I missed lessons, bunked off, hung around the town. Like you, only this wasn’t Ashton.’
Evie stopped talking for so long that Mia thought she’d forgotten what she was saying. She didn’t like to remind her. She watched Evie disappear back down into the cabin for a while; heard the hiss of a can being opened and the scrape of a match. She came back on to the deck and settled herself again.
‘Still listening?’ Evie’s voice was harsh. Mia nodded.
‘So it got worse. I couldn’t do any of the work any more and the teachers hated me for messing up. I didn’t get any of my exams. But I wasn’t stupid, don’t think that
.’ Evie’s face was dark and her voice thick with hate. ‘My dad went mad and beat me up and made my mum cry. They were always arguing, anyway, but it got worse then. My dad said get a job or else. Well, in the end I just left. I stayed on friends’ floors to begin with, in squats and stuff, but it’s harder than you think, never any money, and people offer you drink and a smoke and it helps to begin with, makes you forget, you stop feeling so much – you don’t want to hear this, Mia.’
‘Yes I do.’
‘Well, maybe I don’t want to talk about it any more. That’s enough. That’s it, anyway. Things got bad. But they’re much better now, I mean, look at this beautiful boat –’ Evie stretched her arms out. ‘What more could you want? Never have to stay put, you just move on. Wonderful views, new people to meet.’
What more could you want? Mia could think of plenty of things. But she wouldn’t say, not to Evie. Evie had been generous and kind to Mia. She didn’t have much, but she shared it anyway. It didn’t seem the right time to ask how she’d got the boat. And there were other gaps in Evie’s story. The more she thought about it, the more Mia felt convinced that what Evie had said about Shannon’s baby was really about her own. Maybe she could ask Shannon when she turned up with Joe. If she did, of course.
Evie was lost in daydreams again. Perhaps Mia had made a mistake asking about the past. ‘Everyone has a story,’ Evie had said the first time she met them on the river. But stories come in different versions. And they’re not always happy.
‘I’m going to have a lie down.’ Evie’s face was closed over; she’d opened up a bit and now she was firmly locked up again. ‘Give us a shout when you see the next village or town or wherever. We need food and diesel probably. And we should wait up for Shannon, I guess. We don’t want to get too far ahead. Safer to stick together.’
Mia watched Evie disappear into the dark cabin. She saw the thin curls of cigarette smoke hanging in the air where she’d been. The boat would stink of it. She hated that. It made her anxious too, thinking of Evie smoking on the bed, dropping ash. After a few drinks, she was less careful.
Evie didn’t seem to like the way Shannon hung out with Joe. Perhaps she was jealous? What she said was that it ‘wasn’t good for Shannon’. She treated Shannon a bit like a mother might. Some mothers might, Mia corrected herself. Because mothers weren’t all the same, were they?
But what if it was really the other way round? If it was Shannon keeping an eye on Evie? Evie who’d lost the baby?
Evie’s bad mood persisted. She’d finished the cans of cider and beer and smoked her way through her cigarettes, and they still hadn’t got to any town or even a pub. Mia carried on steering the boat, even though her arms ached and she longed to lie down.
Evie sat in the open doorway and picked at Mia, finding fault with everything.
‘Why haven’t you talked to your mum then?… What are you going to do when you get there?’
Mia was silent, biting back tears.
‘What about your school work then?’ Evie started up again.
‘I dunno. I’m not thinking about that now.’
‘No, but you should. You don’t want to end up like me, do you?’
‘Why not? You said yourself you’ve got everything you want – your boat, friends.’
‘That’s not what I said. I said it was better than it was. In any case, we wouldn’t have the boat if it weren’t for Shannon’s brother. He bought it. He’s loaded. He’s an accountant or something. Not that she ever sees him. You should get your exams. Once we get you to Bristol. Get a job, money. Look after your kid. Or will your dad keep on bailing you out?’
Mia flushed and then shrugged. ‘I want to be able to manage myself.’
‘Well, you won’t get a decent job without your exams, will you?’
‘I can go to college later, can’t I? I don’t want to think about it now. I thought you were on my side!’ Mia turned away angrily.
‘Watch the boat! Idiot!’ Evie jumped up to grab the tiller as the boat juddered towards the bank. Mia cowered, crouched on the tiny deck space. For a moment she hated Evie, and the boat.
‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have to keep your mind on the boat if you’re steering. Grow up, Mia. Start taking responsibility for something.’
‘Shut up! You’ve no right.’
‘No? Why not? You’re on my boat, eating my food, wearing my clothes. I’m doing you one huge favour, remember?’
‘I didn’t ask you to, you suggested it!’ Mia’s eyes brimmed with hot tears. She didn’t have to put up with this! But the boat was tiny – and surrounded by water – and there was nowhere else to be, nothing but fields and trees and hills as far as the eye could see. Nowhere to run. She was trapped. Her head ached and her throat stung with tears she wouldn’t let out.
Evie seemed to pull herself together. She took back the helm of the boat and steered competently towards the bridge ahead, slowed the engine, then increased speed slightly once they were through.
Mia pushed past her into the cabin and lay on the unmade bed. It stank of stale cigarettes, beer, sweat. She felt sick. Disgusted. She cried into the pillow until her eyes were sore and red. The boat chugged on, slowly, steadily taking her further away from everything she knew. Too far now. No going back.
Evie acted as if nothing had happened. Much later, she called down to Mia to make tea. Mia surprised herself by getting on with it. Doing as she was told. There wasn’t any other option really.
When she carried the mug of tea out to Evie, Evie smiled and said softly, ‘I am on your side, Mia. That’s the whole point. I want to help you. You and your baby.’
Thinking about it afterwards, there was something, Mia thought, not quite right. Something slightly menacing in the softly spoken words. I want to help you. You and your baby. It niggled at her.
Mia pulled the covers over the couch where she’d been dozing and looked through her small rucksack of things. She put the notebook down on the couch, then fished out her purse. Only about one pound fifty left; it was surprising how much food cost, and fuel. And the cans of beer, for Evie, and cigarettes. Mia couldn’t really say no when she asked. Evie was sharing her home, giving up her time, making the whole journey for Mia. She fingered the small gold key in her purse. Her front door key, although she wouldn’t be needing it now, would she? I’ve left for good. I didn’t really mean to, but somehow it just happened. Dad would say that’s how she did everything. Drifting. You never think about the consequences, do you?
There was no key for the Dragonfly.
‘We don’t lock the boat,’ Evie had said. ‘There’s nothing to steal anyway. It’s much better not to lock doors. Then there’s nothing to batter down.’
‘But aren’t you scared? On your own at night?’ Mia asked.
‘Of what? There’s nothing can happen that hasn’t already.’
Mia went cold right through when Evie said that. Her own worst imaginings seemed bad enough, but she sensed there were more things Evie wouldn’t tell her, things she couldn’t even imagine. It made her frightened. The darkness in Evie, alongside the kindness. What happened if the balance tipped?
Why was she helping Mia? What was it she really wanted from her? A sudden dart of fear shot in and lodged itself deep under her ribs. It wouldn’t go.
Now the boat bobbed against the bank while Evie tied the ropes on to the stake in the grass bank. She had spotted a stack of logs in the woodland running alongside the canal.
‘Perfect. Dry firewood. For free.’
‘But they look like they belong to someone. They’re all stacked up properly under a shelter, Evie.’
‘Well, there’s plenty to go round. No one here now. We’ll take what we need for the stove. They won’t miss them. Anyway, you can’t own trees and woods. Common ground, common property.’
Mia thought of herself at eleven, nicking sweets at the corner shop. Fourteen, stashing cans of lager under her school jumper in the off-licence while the others distracted t
he girl at the counter. It wasn’t her fault she never had any money. It was just for fun. Just a dare. Not really stealing, was it? So what was different about this?
‘Come on, Mia. If we stock up on wood we won’t have to spend so much on coal.’
Mia helped Evie carry armloads of logs on to the path. They were too big for the stove, and had to be chopped and split with the axe into smaller pieces. Mia and Evie took turns. The axe handle made her hands sting and blister. Her shoulders ached. It grew colder as the afternoon wore on, and Mia got slower and weaker. In the end, Evie took over all the chopping and Mia just stood around, feeling useless again. She tried to think of how else she could help.
‘I can – well, probably – get some more money out in a day or so.’ Mia bit her lip anxiously. ‘Once Dad’s got my card. I asked him, you know, to put some in my account. The child-benefit money, that’s for me, so it’s my money really.’
Evie laughed, scornful. ‘Thought you wanted to manage on your own? Anyway, if you keep writing to him he’ll work out where you are, won’t he? He’ll see the postmarks all joined together, a string of places along the canal as clear as a map, stupid. He’ll be coming after you, take you back home. Or is that what you want?’ She glared at Mia. ‘Don’t you want to make a go of this? Be free for once and do what you want?’
That’s what she had done. But what if it wasn’t the right thing for Mia? It had been her dad who’d looked after her all those years, not her mum. Already she saw him a bit differently, just twelve days away from him. And the horrible letter from Mum still lay crumpled in her bag. She still hadn’t told Evie what it said.
‘It’s cold enough for frost,’ Evie announced.
They made a fire on the bank, heaping up logs to make a huge blaze of flames. Their pale faces glowed in the orange light. Witch faces, Mia thought. Hollow eyes, dark spaces. The magic of the fire was irresistible; they danced round it, whooping into the darkness and silence that lay just outside the circle of light. Then, as it died down, they arranged logs around it to sit on and warmed themselves, front first, turning round every so often to warm their backs. Mia stopped worrying whether anyone would see the fire and come and find them. There was no one for miles. The sky was black, deep velvet pinned with stars. Frost was already beginning to form, a silver edging to dead leaves, grasses, puddles along the towpath. The boat deck too, had a white shadow of ice.