‘God, I hope we won’t need them. It’s such a shame. Lija has been so busy. The Christmas afternoon teas are selling like a dream and were putting some much-needed cash in the bank. She’ll need it even more now. As if the flood isn’t enough to cope with.’
He looks puzzled and then I remember I still haven’t told Danny of her bombshell. ‘You missed out on one little development,’ I tell him. ‘When you left this morning, she told me that she’s going to have a baby.’
‘Ah,’ Danny says. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘I knew she was keeping something to herself.’
‘Is she pleased?’
‘Not really. She wants the baby, but I think she’s terrified too. There’s no father around. He’s someone from the canal, but he’s long gone now. I guess it didn’t work out as well as it did for you and me.’
‘Poor Lija. She is going to keep the baby though?’
‘Yes. She seems determined about that. She’s going to need a lot of help.’ I wait for him to chip in, but he doesn’t. His forehead wrinkles as he looks deep in thought. ‘I’m worried about leaving Stan too. I thought if we could stay until after Christmas then he’d be doing all right by then. She’s yet to see the doctor, but we think the baby’s due in spring sometime and that’s when Lija’s going to need me most.’
‘Then I guess we’ll be around here for a while.’
I hug him tightly and enjoy the feeling of his damp skin. ‘I hoped that you’d say that.’
‘She’s family. What else can we do?’
‘I want to do all I can to support her.’
‘To be honest,’ he says, ‘I’m enjoying being back here. We can put roots down. I know it was my plan – our plan – to travel the waterways of Great Britain, but we can put that on hold.’
‘I’ve loved our travelling too, but this is my home. I know that the house and café now belong to Lija, but I still feel emotionally tied to them. I couldn’t bear to see her fail.’
He strokes my hair. ‘I don’t want you worrying either. You’ve had enough of that. We’ll work something out.’
‘Do I tell you enough how fabulous you are?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘But you can always tell me more. All we have to do now is ask Lija if she doesn’t mind us living here at the bottom of her garden.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed.’
‘How will we tell?’ he teases.
I laugh. ‘Maybe her pregnancy will make her more emotional.’
‘In a happy way, I hope. Otherwise, we’ll have to hide all the knives.’ Then Danny slaps my rump. ‘Shower.’
‘Have you left me any hot water?’
‘Plenty. When you’re done, we’ll check out your boat too.’
So I strip off in our tiny bathroom and let the water run over me. There’s nothing quite so reviving as a hot shower. Other than eight fabulous hours of sleep, of course.
When I’m dressed again, Danny and I walk along the jetty – which still has water lapping at its boards – to the Maid of Merryweather to survey how badly she’s fared in the deluge. Diggery comes with us, trotting at Danny’s heels. The water in the canal is caramel-coloured and even murkier than usual. It’s moving quickly and Digs barks at two ducks that shoot by on the current. I think if they could give him the finger they would.
The level of the water in the cut has settled again now and, though it’s still high, it’s no longer burst over its bank or creeping up the garden. The jetty, however, is treacherous. One slip and we’d both be in the drink. Danny holds my hand as we gingerly walk along it.
We climb onto the Maid of Merryweather and Danny unlocks the cabin door. The sight that greets me is utterly heartbreaking. The bottom of the boat is entirely filled with water. How she’s still afloat I don’t know. I honestly think that there’s more water in here than there is in the canal. We step down into it. The temperature of the freezing water seeps through my welly boots, turning my feet to ice in an instant. The rug and one of the cushions are floating in it. Part of the roof has sagged and there’s water still dripping through even though it’s long stopped raining. She’s in an even worse state now than she was before.
‘This is terrible.’ I look around in dismay and feel close to tears again. Seriously, my eyeballs are going to fall out if I do any more crying. I wipe my cheeks on my fleece. ‘Poor old girl.’ I stroke the cupboard next to me and the wood feels all soggy. ‘Is she going to have to be scrapped?’
‘I don’t know,’ Danny admits. ‘I thought I’d take a walk down to the boatyard and ask if they’ve got a pump we could borrow. They must have come across this before. I’m sure someone there will be able to advise us as well.’
She probably needs to be taken out of the water and put into dry dock if we’ve any chance of stopping the rot, but that’s ruinously expensive and, currently, way beyond our reach. ‘I hope we can save her.’
He pulls me to him. ‘Me too.’
‘I’m not going to get depressed about it now,’ I say, trying to shake off my mood. ‘Lija’s troubles are far worse than mine. She needs me to be strong and positive.’
‘We won’t give up on the Maid though. Not yet.’
There’s not much I can do here now, so I gird my loins and say, ‘I’d better get back. There’s a lot to do at the house.’
‘I’ll get going into town too, but I won’t hang about. I’ll come straight back to help you.’
‘I’m sure when we get the dehumidifiers and whatever, then it will dry out quickly.’ I wonder if the insurance company would notice if we brought them down here, but then I think that the Maid of Merryweather is far beyond dehumidifier stage.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Danny says that he’s happy to stay here to help out,’ I tell Lija and, instantly, I see some of the strain disappear from her young, troubled face.
‘I am pleased,’ she says.
‘It will depend on him getting a job, of course. But that shouldn’t be a problem. He’s quite resourceful.’
‘Good.’
‘He’s thrilled about the baby, you know.’ Then I wonder if that’s really true. In actual fact, he’s said very little about it. Perhaps he’s simply got more than enough on his plate to handle.
We set to with the cleaning. I won’t let Lija do any of the heavy work, but Rainbow – bless her cotton socks – gets stuck in.
‘OMG, this is EXACTLY like aerobics and EVERYTHING.’ Rainbow whooshes the mop about. ‘My nan’s mad on exercise. She’s on at me to go to Zumba with her, but I’m, like, TALK TO THE HAND, NANA!’ She pauses to strike the pose of the gesture. ‘Me and exercise are NOT mates! OMG, I’d properly DIE! I don’t think you need to do exercising until you’re about FORTY or something – like, really OLD – when everything goes slack and WHATEVER.’ She carries on chattering and I zone out.
By lunchtime we’ve made good progress and the rooms still look damp, but we’ve cleared up from the worst of the flood water. Rainbow and I have thrown the rugs out into the garden and Danny will have to take them to the tip. It looks as if the floors will have to come up and the carpets need to be replaced. Even if they dry out, I’m sure they’ll pong. The skirting boards are definitely beyond salvage too and some of the plaster will need patching. That’s my assessment, anyway, as neither the assessor from the insurance company nor the promised dehumidifier or fans have turned up. I ring them and sit for half an hour listening to Bryan Adams singing ‘Everything I Do’ on a loop while on hold. Then I give up.
As the insurance company aren’t playing ball, I go and get Stan. Lija’s taken some soup out of the freezer and is warming it up. As the label has fallen off we’re not entirely sure what it is, but it’s vaguely carrot-coloured. We haven’t made any fresh bread and yesterday’s is feeling a bit stale, so she slices it thinly and puts it under the grill with some grated cheese on top to perk it up. The day is bright, crisp and there’s very little evidence left of the devastation of yesterday. I don’t kn
ow where all the water came from and I’m not exactly sure where it’s gone either. Only a distinct tidemark of debris shows any evidence of where the water came up to in the garden.
Stan’s all wrapped up in his overcoat. ‘Do you want to sit out on the veranda to eat your lunch? You’ll be sheltered there and I’m sure you’re fed up of being stuck indoors.’ I know how much he likes to sit outside in the summer. ‘You’re not to stay out too long though.’
‘That would be lovely.’
So I settle him in the corner of the veranda at one of the little wrought iron tables and Lija brings him his soup.
‘Looking better, old man,’ she says.
‘I’m feeling great. I could run a marathon!’
‘Yeah,’ Lija snorts. ‘You could have fucking heart attack and die.’
‘Flipping heart attack,’ I correct.
‘Fucking heart attack,’ she insists.
‘Flipping.’
‘Fucking.’
I fold my arms to show that I mean business. ‘Flipping, flipping, flipping.’
Lija holds up hers in surrender. ‘Flipping, flipping, flipping,’ she mimics.
I consider that progress.
‘The soup’s roasted sweet potato and carrot,’ I tell Stan. I vaguely seem to remember Lija saying that she’d recently made a batch of that. ‘Probably.’
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘My favourite.’ Then he winks at me. ‘Probably.’
Whatever the flavour might be, I’m glad to see that he tucks in with relish. I sit beside him with my own soup and we eat in companionable silence. Even at this time of year, I still love the garden. Though a patio heater or a fire pit might improve the experience considerably.
Rainbow joins us. ‘OMG. That was EPIC!’
‘You’ve done a great job,’ I tell her. ‘Thank you.’
‘No worries. I’m, like, one of the team and EVERTHING. It was, like, completely RAD staying over, like, camping and WHATEVER. Except I’ve got YESTERDAY’S pants on. AARGH! RANK! Dad’s going to come and get me tonight though. My nan misses me when I’m not at home.’
I can imagine that. No matter what’s going on, it’s always sunny in Rainbow’s world.
‘You never talk about your mum.’
‘She’s gone,’ Rainbow says. ‘Not dead or nothing. She lives in Norfolk which Nan says is TOTALLY like being dead.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
Rainbow shrugs. ‘She left my dad for another bloke. I don’t remember it. I was only five. I can’t even think what Mum looks like now unless I look at a photo of her and my dad hides those. I’ve got one that he doesn’t know about. I keep it in a shoe at the back of my wardrobe, but it’s all creased and whatever now. It probably doesn’t even look like her any more.’
That makes me want to cry and I have to bite the tears down. But I feel them brim up on my lashes.
‘Don’t cry,’ Rainbow says. ‘It’s all properly good. Really. There’s just me and my dad and my nan. And my brother. And the dog. But that’s cool. We all get on BRILLIANTLY.’
‘Your dad never remarried?’
‘Nah. He’s REALLY old. I think he’s like THIRTY-SEVEN or something.’
‘Right.’ Even Stan smiles at that. ‘How old’s your nana then?’
‘Well ancient. She’s nearly sixty. SIXTY. We’re going to have a party next year for her – a proper BIG one – as she might not live much longer. OBVS.’ She eats her soup with her little rosebud mouth. ‘I hope she does though because she’s really COOL. I tell her EVERYTHING. She’s more like a mum than a nana. Well, I think so. Dad says she lets me get away with BLUE MURDER. I’ve no idea what that means.’
‘You’ve never tried to contact your mum?’
‘Nah. Dad would go MENTAL. Besides, she knows where I am. We still live in the same house and all that. She never even sends a birthday card or ANYTHING.’ Rainbow’s shrug says that the ways of the world are a mystery to her. ‘Anyway, must get back to work.’
She bounces off.
‘What a lovely young woman,’ Stan says.
‘Yes, isn’t she?’ I feel sad for Rainbow and for the mother who abandoned her. How much are they both missing out on? Stan finishes his lunch and I tidy up the bowls. ‘Ready to go back home now? I don’t want you getting cold.’
‘I’ll take myself,’ he says. ‘I can’t have you running after me all the time, you’ve got enough to do.’
‘The drive is still muddy. I don’t want you falling.’
‘I’ve got my stick.’ He waves it at me. I note that Stan abandoned the walking frame as soon as he was able to. ‘I’ll take my time. Slowly, slowly.’
‘I’ll come and watch you until you get to the lane.’ So I help him up and then follow him across the garden. True to his word, Stan goes at a snail’s pace and I stand at the corner of the house and watch until he turns into the lane and towards his gate. He balances on his stick while he raises a hand and waves.
I go back inside and get on the phone again to the insurance company. Half an hour later, I’ve heard Tony Hadley singing ‘True’ more times than is good for anyone and have heard a robotic voice tell me that my call is important to them when, quite clearly, it isn’t.
Then I talk to a young man called Sunil who politely tells me that Lija’s last payment wasn’t collected due to ‘insufficient funds’ in her bank account and that he’s terribly sorry but the house isn’t actually covered by their poxy insurance.
I try remonstrating with him. As far as I know Lija never had a letter or any communication about this and was labouring under the misapprehension that all was hunkydory. Sunil might be polite, but he’s also immovable. He insists that Lija had been informed. I hang up in frustration. It seems as if her protection has let her down once more.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I sit on the stairs, head in hands, and wonder how I’m going to break this to Lija. She’ll be devastated and I can’t think of a way to wrap it up so that it sounds any better than it is.
When I finally summon up the courage to go back into the kitchen, Lija is busy wiping down the work surfaces.
I decide to go straight in, tell it like it is. ‘I’ve got bad news, Lija.’
She pauses in her scrubbing. ‘More?’ One eyebrow raises. ‘Don’t tell me.’
‘The insurance company say that the house isn’t covered. It seems as if the last payment bounced.’
Lija’s usually pale face goes deathly white.
‘You didn’t know?’
She shakes her head. I guess the letter could be somewhere buried in the pile of paper she’s been ignoring, but I think better of mentioning it. Lija takes a moment before she can speak and, when she does, her voice is shaky. ‘What now?’
‘Now it’s down to us,’ I say sadly. ‘We’ll have to rent some dehumidifiers. We need to get this place open again and fast. I’ll put them on my credit card.’ And keep my fingers crossed that we can find the money to pay for them when the bill comes in. ‘I’ll sort it out. I don’t want you to worry.’
‘Of course not,’ she says sarcastically. ‘I will put it right out of mind.’
She throws down the scrubbing brush and stomps upstairs. I shout ‘Lija’ after her but she completely ignores me. Her bedroom door slams. Probably best if I leave her alone for a little while, though my heart is breaking for her.
As it is, Lija comes down an hour later. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying, but neither of us mention it. I go to hug her, but she stiffens and backs away, so I let it go. I hand her the broom and she heads into the dining room without speaking.
When Danny comes back he, at least, has something good to tell us. ‘Sorry I’ve been so long. Did you get my text?’
I admit that I haven’t even checked my phone and I didn’t hear it bing. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘I got a job,’ he says. ‘At the boatyard. I stayed down there helping them out. They’re inundated with work at the moment and one of their guys has cut his
hand badly. He’s been signed off for a month. So his misfortune is my lucky break. They said they might keep me on even when he comes back they’re so busy. I’ve just got to prove myself.’
‘That’s fantastic news. I’m sure you’ll do fine.’
‘It’s a great boatyard. I asked them about the Maid of Merryweather too and they’ve said that if I can get her down there, I can put her into one of their old dry docks for the rest of the winter. She’ll be out of the water then and undercover.’
‘Really? They offered to do that? For nothing?’
‘Yeah, but we’ll buy all the stuff to repair her from them, so it goes both ways.’
‘I can’t believe they’re being so kind.’
‘I told them we were between a rock and a hard place. These guys are dedicated to the canal. They knew your dad and the Maid. They don’t want to see a good boat lost any more than we do. Nevertheless, it’s a very magnanimous gesture.’
‘I’ll say. I’m so grateful to them.’
Danny brandishes a bottle of wine. ‘Thought we’d celebrate later. We need something to raise a glass to.’
‘I think I’ll need a drink tonight.’
‘How’s it going here?’
‘Not so well.’ I lower my voice. ‘Lija hadn’t paid the last instalment on her household insurance, so they’re not honouring the policy. They say they wrote to let her know the payment had bounced but she seemed to be unaware of it.’ I think of the mounting pile of admin again. ‘Poor love is devastated.’ I throw a glance towards the dining room. ‘She’s not a happy bunny. I’ve left her alone for a bit.’
‘So, it’s down to us?’
‘Yes. I said we’d get in some dehumidifiers. We’ve done a pretty good job of clearing up. Rainbow has been a total star. There’s some repair work needed but, if you don’t look too closely, it will pass muster. It’s even more important for us to reopen quickly to get some money in.’
‘I’ll head straight back into town, if you want me to. I’ll have a quick ring round before I set off. I’m sure I can track one down.’
Christmas Cakes and Mistletoe Nights Page 14