Love on the Waterways

by Milly Adams

  It was indeed liver and bacon on the menu. Her mother tapped her husband on the shoulder. ‘You’re to avoid any and all onions, because we’ll be squashed together in Mr Burton’s car and I’m not putting up with it, do you hear me, Thomas?’

  Thomas clearly had, because he raised his eyebrows at Polly and pulled a face, before turning back. Mrs Holmes wasn’t done with him, though, because she tapped him on the shoulder again as he held out his plate to Enid, one of the servers, saying, ‘I saw that, Thomas Holmes, and if the wind changes, you’ll stay like it.’

  Polly, Verity and Sylvia were shaking with laughter, and it stopped all the second-guessing. Her mum turned and winked at them, whispering, ‘They have to be kept in order or they’d run amok.’

  The thought of either her dad or Mr Burton daring to run amok was an image too far, and the girls’ roar of laughter made the men at the nearby tables swing round. Polly’s mum appeared satisfied and said, ‘We have to laugh, or we’d cry. What a world.’

  She carried on along the line, asking for less mash but more carrots, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble, and fanning herself against the heat. Verity pointed out a table with free spaces on the bench, next to one of the carpenters. ‘Why not find a place and sit yourself down, Mrs Holmes? Over there – look, next to Arnold.’

  Mrs Holmes set a cracking pace, sweeping around other tables and arriving at Arnold’s bench. Mr Burton followed, clutching his briefcase to his chest as though it contained the Crown Jewels, while Sylvia trotted in his wake, carrying his plate. Dog had accompanied them across the yard, but would now be in position by the range, where she’d get the scraps.

  Enid, who was serving, looked at Polly. ‘Oh, the family’s visiting? I’ll save some Spotted Dick for you all, with custard.’

  They ate, while Polly was on tenterhooks, hardly able to believe it, and the questions were tearing at her. How was Maud? Where was she? Where had she been? Was she well?

  Her mother ate daintily. ‘A very substantial meal. I’d be happy if you could eat like this every day, girls. You’ve all lost some weight, I think, but I dare say you think about your men, and worry. We have said prayers in church for them, and I hold them in my heart.’

  Arnold patted Mrs Holmes on the back. The feather on her hat wobbled. ‘You go on doing that, Missus. It can’t do any ’arm, and who knows, it might do some good.’

  Mr Burton wiped his mouth with his starched folded white handkerchief. ‘Indeed, that’s what my wife and I say about our son.’

  Polly stared at him. He had never spoken of his family as she took down his letters in shorthand, and she’d had no idea he had a son, let alone one who was serving.

  Arnold asked, wiping up the gravy with bread, ‘Infantry?’

  Mr Burton replaced his handkerchief in his suit pocket. ‘Submarines.’

  Into the thoughtful silence Verity said, ‘Pudding, I think. You take the dirty dishes to the trolley, Polly, while Sylvia and I fetch the Spotted Dick.’

  The Spotted Dick was ambrosia, although it had very few spots, because currants were in short supply, but the custard was good; perhaps it was sweetened with honey? And the sponge, too. Polly thought of Fran and her beehives, and of Granfer. Perhaps he had been told? Not now – later, she chastised herself, impatience dragging at her, as it had all through the meal.

  At last they were out into the fresh air, and it was Sylvia who stopped dead just a few paces from the canteen, dragging Mrs Holmes to one side. ‘You need to tell us or I am going to scream. What is all this about Maudie?’

  They learned the story as they hurried back to the boats, finally crowding into Marigold’s cabin. Mr Burton placed his briefcase on his knee on the side-bed, while Mr and Mrs Holmes settled on either side. Mr Burton withdrew a file and read from the stapled papers. The three girls sat on the cross-bed, giving him their full attention. ‘Apparently Maudie was found some months ago, wandering up and down the towpath of the Aylesbury Arm of the Grand Union Canal. She was thin, frozen and had a broken arm, and head injuries, and had to be sedated before she would leave the canal. She was black and blue, and had no knowledge of who she was.’

  Polly remembered how Saul had said it was a favourite stretch of the canal for Maudie; a tranquil and beautiful place.

  Mr Burton continued, his voice calm and devoid of emotion, ‘Maudie received hospital treatment and was released into the care of a small wartime psychiatric home near London, well, near Aylesbury, for those with mental problems. This was done not only because had she lost her memory, but because her behaviour was disturbed. She rocked, she moaned, she picked at her clothes and was unreachable. She remembered nothing of who she was, or where she’d been, or how she’d been hurt.’

  Polly asked, ‘So how did they know who she was?’

  ‘Ah well, as luck would have it – though not for those hurt, of course,’ Mr Burton looked around at them, apologetically, ‘the hospital was damaged by a gas explosion just ten days ago. The blast demolished part of an annexe in which Maud was kept. I use that term advisedly, because containment was deemed necessary. She was found, along with other patients, wandering the canal. When the patients were returned to what remained of the home, which has since been made safe, she said quite clearly, “I am Maudie. I need the water, I need a butty, for it is quiet.” They didn’t understand what a butty was.

  ‘The authorities contacted the police because they finally had a name, though only a Christian name. The police checked their records, and contacted me. I collected Granfer for an identification and brought him to the home. It is indeed Maudie, but she wouldn’t approach either of us. She is scared of men, but looks out of the window, seeking the canal. It is only the thought of it that brings her peace. So, we have come for you girls.’

  Ah, so Granfer knew. Polly and the other two girls exchanged a look. But what about Saul? Mr Burton was wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. ‘I found it distressing, to be perfectly frank, because she so loves water and cries to be on it. The question is – and this is a question that will be asked of you by Granfer, for no one will send a message to Saul until we have the answer …’ He smiled a little. ‘Yes, this is clearly emotional blackmail, but I doubt it is needed, although they say it’s best to train all the guns one has, to bring about the appropriate result.’

  Mrs Holmes tutted, ‘Oh, come along now, you’ve held the stage for quite some while, Mr Burton, and it’s time to wriggle on.’

  He chuckled, but then grew deadly serious. ‘The question is: will you take Maudie on Marigold or even better, the butty? If it causes ructions, she will naturally be returned to the home until somehow she recovers, or does not. Naturally, if Saul was still here … But he is not. You, Polly, are part of his family in all but name and, having discussed this with the doctors, they deem it suitable. I doubt Maudie would be allowed to leave in these circumstances, were it not wartime. But the thought of the canal seems to be the only thing, thus far, to bring her a vestige of peace.’

  Mrs Holmes said, ‘Thank you, Mr Burton – at last. Now perhaps you’d like to go onto the counter while I talk to the girls. You may go too, Thomas.’

  The men obeyed, but before Mr Burton shut the doors behind them, he came back down and said, ‘It would be at the doctor’s discretion, and under my auspices as a legal representative. Therefore I agreed with the doctor when he suggested that a bit of a trial run take place, within reach of help. A short trip, perhaps to Cowley lock – from which, if all goes wrong, Maudie can be collected.’ He left again, winking at Mrs Holmes and saying, ‘My last word, I promise.’ He shut the cabin doors behind him, as the girls and Mrs Holmes laughed.

  Mrs Holmes looked round at the girls. ‘That man has a heart of gold, but he does go on and on, because he likes to cross the t’s and dot the i’s, but at least it means we know exactly where we are. So I suggest that we all go to visit Maudie and try to assess her reaction to us, and the medical team will be assessing you. We will then present a plan to that
team. I have to tell you that at no time has Maudie been a danger to others, or herself, beyond walking out after the explosion. And she returned placidly, as though her heart was breaking. As I say, this is only a suggestion.’

  She stopped and settled her summer hat more firmly on her head while the three girls grinned at one another, because it was not a suggestion; it was an order, and they nodded at one another.

  Seeing this, Mrs Holmes was off at a gallop again. ‘You are aware that although we do this for Maudie’s sake, it is primarily for Joe. He deserves a mother, one who is his protector, and not vice versa. Now, what I gather is that you girls pick up your cargo at either Limehouse Basin or Brentford. Having done so, you must pass this depot once more, on your way north. Have you any thoughts about how you could collect Maudie as you pass the depot?’

  Polly watched her mum closely. ‘The thing I want to know is how will you feel if, and when, Joe goes back to his mother?’

  Mrs Holmes shook her head slightly. ‘Dear Polly, that day was always a possibility, and it will be better for him. How I will feel is distressed, but happy for him.’ Her clenched hands refuted that thought. ‘Now, back to the matter in hand. What thoughts have you?’

  This redoubtable woman clearly had a very good idea what should happen, but it had to come from them. Polly looked at her friends. Yes, it had to come from them.

  Verity murmured, ‘We need to try Maudie on the butty for a short while, which would constitute a trial, as Mr Burton said.’

  Sylvia leaned back on the cross-bed. ‘Yes, without an engine the butty is quiet, and I would be happy to share the cabin.’

  Polly and Verity stared at her, amazed, but then not so amazed, because Sylvia was changing. Polly said, ‘To cross and dot the t’s and i’s, we could pick up Maudie from the lay-by, once we have loaded at Limehouse. We could then take her as far as Cowley lock as per Mr Burton’s suggestion, which is just around the corner. If it suits her, we could go on to Buckby. Perhaps she could visit Granfer? If she would like to remain with him, then fine. If not, then she stays with us. What does everyone think?’

  Verity was nodding, but it was Sylvia who would bear the brunt.

  Polly warned her, ‘We don’t know how she will be, Sylvia. Maudie could be untidy, and perhaps frightening.’

  Sylvia just grinned. ‘And you two are not? More to the point, what would the Grand Union Canal Company think?’

  Verity had been looking impatient and now said, ‘Oh, never mind the Company, why should they know? It’s Dog that is worrying me; we can’t get rid of our lovely girl, even for Maudie. Neither should we take Maudie into the pubs; the noise, and everything else, could upset her.’

  Sylvia said, ‘We could keep Dog on the motor, and take it in turns to stay in with Maudie if we decide to go out?’

  They planned for the next ten minutes, working out that Mrs Holmes must be at Cowley lock to take Maudie back to the home by taxi after the short trial, if it was unsuccessful.

  Mr Burton opened the cabin doors and put his foot down for once, so they knew it was serious. ‘If we don’t go to see Maudie now, we won’t go at all, because the traffic will build and I’m not driving home on slit headlights.’

  Polly said, as they gathered their belongings, ‘Animals sense pain. Dog will be fine.’

  Mrs Holmes picked up her handbag and asked, ‘What about the boaters? It’s all very well for you to say the Company won’t know, but someone could tell them.’

  They stepped onto the counter. Polly took Dog to Mrs Porter, who was happy to have her, then ran after the others in time to hear Verity explaining that the boaters looked after their own, and although they might recognise Maudie, nothing would be said.

  Chapter 25

  Tuesday 4 July – the Marigold and Horizon approach Bull’s Bridge, after loading at Limehouse

  The girls fell silent as they travelled from Alperton with the boats abreast. They had moored in front of Sid’s pub briefly this morning, for Verity to run and post another letter. It was to thank her mother for unblocking Uncle Freddie’s trust without Verity even asking; not that she had anything she wanted to buy, but it was a gesture of reconciliation and belief.

  Verity elbowed the tiller slightly and the pair kept to the centre, and the pat-patter of the engine was so normal, the sun on her straw hat and shoulders comforting. She had told her parents that Maud might be joining them at Bull’s Bridge. She had added all the background to Maud’s story. It was news she felt able to share with them now.

  Sylvia joined them on Marigold, so they could run over their plan again. Verity steered, while the other two girls and Dog sat on the cabin roof in the blazing sun, feeling satisfied it all sounded tickety-boo. Polly brandished her Woodbines. Sylvia refused as usual, but Verity dragged out her matches from her trouser pockets, lit both and inhaled. Sylvia smoothed down her bouncing curls and said, ‘I’m glad we bumped into Bet at Limehouse.’

  Polly elbowed her so hard that she fell back.

  Sylvia corrected herself. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist, but it wasn’t a massive bang, Verity, and Bet didn’t mind too much. Sky was only slightly scratched.’

  ‘She should have had her tender sorted,’ Verity growled.

  They were ten minutes from the lay-by. Verity blew smoke over Sylvia, who fanned it away and continued, ‘Anyway, I’m glad we saw her – is that better?’

  The other two nodded. ‘She agreed that we were doing the right thing with Maudie, but just to stay alert in case she wandered off. She thinks the cut will work its magic.’

  They had said this to themselves twice already on the trip, but Polly and Sylvia both looked as nervous as Verity felt, and Dog was quiet as though she had picked up the tension. Ahead Verity saw a pair pull away from the lay-by and squinted. ‘Ah, Steerer Ambrose’s coming our way to pick up a load.’ She blew the hunting horn. As she did so, the sirens went in the distance, and the ack-ack, but the doodlebugs were over central London, from the look of their flaring tails.

  Steerer Ambrose was hooting his horn as he approached, and he slowed, yelling, ‘’Ow do. Yer visitor ’as arrived with yer ma, Polly. Nice to see ’er again, and yer ma.’ He passed, and his butty on short tow approached. Ma Ambrose shouted, ‘We ’ad a whip-round. Ma Mercy’s given yer ma a long skirt, wide belt and blouse for our Maudie. Never fear, she’ll get better quick, now she’s back. She don’t like blokes, though, and who can blame her? That beggar Leon …’ They were past.

  Verity was shaking her head. She said, ‘I would really, really love to know how word gets around so quickly.’

  She didn’t expect any answer. Sylvia said, ‘It is the mystery of our age, quite frankly, but it doesn’t matter. The thing is, we won’t be alone – the rest of the boaters will be on hand.’

  They were smiling as they reversed into Ambrose’s space between Thomo’s Venus and the Mercys’ Lincoln. Ma Mercy was on the butty, York, and called across, ‘’Ow do.’ That was all, but the jerk of her head said more. They waited. ‘I ’as the clothes, I’ll chook ’em on yer butty counter.’

  Verity said, ‘You’re all saints, you know. Thank you.’

  Ma Mercy threw the package as Verity moored up and looked along the kerb. Mrs Holmes was walking slowly with Maudie. Dog leapt down next to Verity. ‘Quiet,’ Verity hissed. Dog seemed to know and just sat, though her tail was thwacking against the concrete. Mrs Holmes was carrying a string bag full of vegetables. ‘From the allotment,’ she called.

  The pair drew nearer. Maudie was walking strangely sideways, as she had done at the home the day they visited; her head was down, too, as though she was looking for cracks through which she might fall, so tentative were her steps. She wore a headscarf that hid her long hair. Was this to disguise her? Verity wondered, as she waited. But hadn’t anyone told her that Leon was in custody? Ah, Maudie probably didn’t understand.

  At last the pair reached them. Polly slipped down onto the kerb and stood beside Verity, before approaching her mother fro
m the side, unwilling to scare Maudie, who stood, still looking at the ground. She was hunched, her hands clenched together in front of her, her feet pigeon-toed, as though every part of her was turned inwards. It was just as she had been in the relatives’ room at the home. It was a large comfortable room furnished with sofas, tables and newspapers.

  The only thing Maudie had said, when she was asked if she’d like to go on the water in a narrowboat, was, ‘Yes.’

  ‘With these women?’ the doctor had asked.

  Maudie had sat, looking at them through her hair, which she had pulled across one side of her face, like a curtain. The girls had wondered then if they should have worn skirts, as Maud didn’t like men. Maud had risen, walked across almost crabwise and picked up Verity’s hands. She had turned them palm upwards and run her fingers over the callouses. She had pushed aside the collar of her blouse and seen the healed blisters and callouses from hauling the boats on the Brum Bum. She checked the others, too.

  She had then walked in that same crabwise way back to the sofa and sat down. She had looked at no one as she said, ‘Yes.’

  The doctor had said, as they left, ‘She has the same blisters, scars and callouses. She recognises you as … Well, what?’ It was a genuine question.

  It was Mrs Holmes who had said, ‘The boaters they are.’ She had tears in her eyes, and stood with them and whispered, ‘I didn’t know how hard you have worked, you see. I really didn’t know.’

  Now Sylvia slipped past Polly and led Maudie to the butty, not touching her, but pointing the way, walking slowly at Maud’s pace. Mrs Holmes would travel by taxi to the Cowley lock and wait, in case Maudie preferred to leave the canal there.

  Polly said quietly, ‘Thank you, Mum, for helping Saul’s family.’

  Her mum hugged her, tighter than she had ever done. ‘You stay safe, and why wouldn’t we help – we’re all family after all. So, all of you, do your best for Maud if she wants to go on after Cowley lock. I’m banking on you, and so is the Hopkins family.’