Canal Boat Cafe (4) - Land Ahoy

by Cressida McLaughlin

  Jas appeared with Ryder, both carrying trays of beer in plastic pint glasses. They handed them out and Summer introduced Mason to everyone. She wasn’t quite ready to say please meet my boyfriend, but she couldn’t stop looking at him, so thought it was probably obvious anyway. She chatted to Jas, who told her how much traffic the blog had been receiving, and how Chester was becoming the star of the festival, everyone wanting to have their photo taken with the sedate Irish wolfhound.

  Summer listened to him as she watched Claire and Mason talking, their heads close together, trying to hear each other against the sound of the crowd, anticipating the appearance of Swordfish. She saw Claire gasp and press her hands to her mouth, and then give Mason another of her bear hugs, and thought that he must be telling her about Lisa, perhaps trying to explain why things had fallen apart with Tania the way they had.

  She wasn’t sure if it would get any easier for Mason, but she could at least be confident that she could be there for him now, whenever he wanted her to be, whether he wanted to talk about it or not. She turned away, leaving them to their conversation, and saw Valerie striding towards her, beautiful in a long, scarlet dress. Doug was with her, and both of them were smiling.

  ‘Good lord, Summer, I never knew this many people could fit in Willowbeck. I’ve had nonstop readings all weekend, and I’ve grown my regular client list by about a third. I’m going to have to train Harvey up to be my protégé at this rate.’ She embraced Summer in a Frankincense-infused hug, and Summer hugged her back. ‘Doug was saying that this area’s a treasure-trove for antiques. He’s arranged visits over the next few weeks to see several pieces in situ.’

  ‘Not to mention that I’ve sold a lot of my stock,’ Doug added. ‘The boat’s looking pretty barren, so hopefully these visits will be successful. I’m not sure anyone’s had a bad time at this festival. Claire’s done us all proud.’

  ‘You all had a hand in it,’ Summer said, ‘but I think there’s one person who may not have relished it as much as everyone else.’ She pointed towards the river. ‘Poor old Norman.’

  ‘Wha’about me?’

  Summer gawped as Norman appeared alongside Doug, his threadbare green jumper in place, but his beard significantly neater than the last time she’d seen him. His cheeks were pink, as if he’d spent the whole festival sitting in the sun.

  ‘N-norman,’ she said. ‘Wow, I didn’t—’

  ‘Think I liked music?’ He shook his head. ‘Big fan o’ Swordfish, I am,’ he said. ‘Got their album on me iPad.’

  Summer laughed incredulously, and hugged him. ‘It’s lovely to see you.’

  ‘I’ been enjoyin’ it all. On me boat. You been stuck in that café the whole time.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Summer said, still unable to believe it. ‘Come and get a drink.’

  She tried to introduce Norman to Claire, Jas and Ryder, but they’d already met, and Summer was left shaking her head, wondering how she’d managed to misjudge her neighbour so much. Mason came and put his arms around her waist and Valerie gave an unmodified squeal of delight.

  ‘Mason, you’re back and you’re – you’re—’

  ‘Head over heels about Summer?’ he asked. ‘Guilty as charged. And I did see the cranes,’ he said, turning to Norman. ‘They’re beautiful – very impressive, great to photograph. You should come with me next time.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Norman said, and then to Summer, ‘Told you he was off seeing t’ cranes, tha’ it’d all come good.’

  ‘You were right,’ Summer said. ‘Thank you, Norman.’

  ‘Keep bringin’ t’ cake and bacon butties, we’ll be fine.’ He nodded conspiratorially at her, and Summer laughed and pressed her head into Mason’s shoulder.

  ‘Ooh look,’ Claire said, ‘here they come.’

  The laughter and chatting fell to a hush as the lights around them dimmed, so only the spotlight and Ryder’s fairy lights lit up the space, and then three young men and a woman, all in their twenties and dressed in carefully deconstructed jeans and T-shirts, the woman with a shock of bright pink hair, appeared on the stage. The crowd erupted, even Norman raising his hands in the air as the guitars played their first chord and they launched into their best-known song. Summer had heard of them, though she didn’t know their music very well, but she was soon caught up in their upbeat songs, jumping along with Mason at her side, stealing kisses and embracing between each track.

  Summer couldn’t remember when she’d felt happier, more alive or more confident. She stole a glance at Mason, who was intent on the stage, and saw the whites of his eyes in the low lighting, the shape of his jaw, his neck and the suggestion of dark hair appearing at the neckline of his T-shirt. She gave an involuntary shudder, reached up and kissed his cheek. Mason turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. They couldn’t speak while the music was so loud, and so instead they kissed, as the stars began to emerge, glimmering through the trees above them, and the air cooled to a delicious, whispering breeze. As people danced and sang around them, Mason and Summer were locked into their kiss, a perfect moment that held only the two of them in its grasp. Summer thought that she’d be content to stay there forever.

  When the band played their last track, and the crowd cheered and whooped and clapped with exhausted, sweaty limbs, it was close to eleven o’clock. Swordfish bowed and thanked everyone for coming, and Summer turned to Claire.

  ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That was brilliant.’

  ‘I know,’ Claire said, her eyes bright. ‘They’re a sure thing, Swordfish, and they didn’t disappoint tonight.’

  ‘I can’t believe it’s over. I mean, it might be nice to have a couple of slower days in the café, but it’s been so much fun. How will Willowbeck cope with going back to being quiet and picturesque?’

  ‘You want it to be like this all the time? I think everyone needs a break. But it’s certainly proved itself as a good venue.’

  ‘So you’ll be coming back?’

  ‘Try and keep me away,’ Claire said. ‘But I guess you’re staying for good.’ She nodded her head in Mason’s direction. He had his arms folded, his hair pushed back from his forehead, and was chatting to Valerie. Summer’s heart gave a little jolt.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Willowbeck is my home. It doesn’t mean I won’t ever want to go cruising again, but maybe we’ll come together next time.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you, Summer,’ Claire said. ‘Mason told me what had led him to this lifestyle in the first place, and – God, I had no idea. He wants to get in touch with Tania, to explain that he wasn’t ready, that he was grieving and handled things badly. I’ve not seen her for a while, but I’ll put the feelers out, see if she’s prepared to listen. She should be, and it’s in the past now. I’m prepared to say I was wrong.’

  ‘That’s pretty astounding,’ Summer said, grinning. ‘But you weren’t wrong, not really. You just didn’t have the whole story, and I should have been confident enough to make up my own mind. But now I have, and …’

  ‘And now you get to tug those curls as often as you want, you lucky thing.’

  They laughed and settled onto the grass as the crowd drifted away, back to cars and boats and houses. Ralph put some more meat on the grill, Ryder went into The Black Swan to get more drinks before last orders, and the others joined Claire and Summer.

  There was a general sense of exhaustion and contentment as they chatted quietly, and then Swordfish came to say goodbye to Claire, and headed off with their manager and cases full of their instruments.

  ‘Dismantling starts tomorrow,’ Ryder said, leaning back on the grass. ‘I wish we could leave it up permanently. We could tell our stories on the stage, under the lights.’

  ‘I’m not sure what Dennis and Jenny would think of that,’ Valerie said. Summer noticed that she was sitting close to Doug, and felt a swell of happiness.

  Their talking and laughter continued into the night, after the temperature had dropped and the darkness above
them was broken only by the map of stars, competing with the soft glow of the fairy lights.

  ‘Time for me to turn in,’ Valerie said, standing and stretching her arms up to the sky. ‘How can it feel so cold suddenly? I may need to put the woodburner on before I get into bed.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Summer said. She’d been trying to ignore the goose bumps on her arms for the last half an hour, reluctant for the night to end.

  Doug, Ralph, Norman and Jas all agreed that they were knackered. They said their goodnights and made their way down the hill towards their boats, leaving Claire, Ryder, Summer and Mason.

  ‘I was pretty sceptical about Willowbeck when Claire suggested coming here,’ Ryder said, ‘but as usual she’s been just the right amount of confident and bossy, and look what it’s resulted in.’

  ‘The best mini music festival that Fenland has ever seen,’ Claire said.

  ‘I think you’re being too modest. I think word will stretch beyond Fenland, and you’re going to have to think bigger for the next one.’ Mason held up his plastic cup in a toast to Claire.

  They’d moved on to spirits, and Summer was slowly getting used to the burn of the whisky as it slid down her throat. She felt happily hazy, and knew that the days ahead would not only be full of sunshine and her café and the possibility of Harry becoming a more permanent fixture, but that they would also be full of Mason, of getting to know him and lazy kisses, of Archie and Latte and long, languid evenings close to the water. She closed her eyes in contentment.

  ‘I think it might be bedtime,’ Claire said.

  Summer opened her eyes. ‘No, I’m fine, I was just thinking.’

  ‘And we can all guess what you were thinking about!’ Claire raised her eyebrows.

  Summer blushed and looked at Mason. He pushed a strand of hair back from her face. ‘It is late,’ he said.

  ‘Ooh, whose boat?’ Claire asked. ‘How will you decide? Kidding, kidding.’ She held up her hands in submission as Summer pretended to be annoyed.

  Summer collected their glasses and put them in the bin outside the pub. There was a light on inside and she wondered if Jenny and Dennis were still awake, clearing up after what must have been one of the pub’s busiest-ever days.

  The four of them made their way down to the boats, then Claire and Ryder said goodnight and strolled along the towpath towards the visitor moorings. Summer and Mason stopped outside The Sandpiper and he put his arms around her. They were in darkness save for the glow of the towpath lights and Summer could smell smoke lingering in the air, left over from Ralph’s barbecue. It was much cooler, the breeze caressing her face, and she felt giddy with exhaustion and happiness.

  ‘This has been a good day,’ Mason said. ‘One of the best. Except I can’t feel sad that it’s over, because now I know there are so many more good days to come.’

  ‘Not all of them will have Swordfish in, though.’

  ‘But they will all – or most of them, at least – have you in.’

  ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ Summer murmured, reaching up to kiss him.

  Mason put his hands in her hair and Summer felt her whole body respond to his touch.

  ‘You could come to mine,’ she said, breaking away, ‘though it might be a struggle to convince Latte that she won’t be allowed to sleep on the bed tonight.’

  Mason smiled down at her. ‘I think that—’ He stopped, his breath catching in his throat, and then looked up, past her. She felt him tense.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Mason?’

  ‘Can you smell that?’ His voice was sharp. ‘Burning?’

  Summer shook her head. ‘It’s just the barbecue,’ she said, but her words trailed away, because she realized that the smell had got stronger, not weaker, and now she could hear the unmistakable crackle of flames. It reminded her of the nights with Claire and Ryder, telling stories in the woods around an open fire.

  Mason moved past her and down the towpath, in the direction of the bridge. After a few steps he broke into a run, and Summer noticed, under the glow of the towpath light, the smoke. It was coming from Moonshine, Valerie’s boat.

  Summer was gripped by fear, but Mason was running towards the boat. ‘Call nine-nine-nine!’ he shouted. ‘Fire brigade and ambulance!’

  ‘Mason,’ Summer called, ‘don’t …’ But she didn’t know what to say. Valerie was on board that boat, and while she didn’t want Mason to face any danger, she needed Valerie to be safe.

  Somehow she made her feet work. She followed Mason along the towpath, pulling her phone out of her pocket at the same time and calling the emergency services. The smell and the thickness of the smoke got stronger as she approached, but she couldn’t see any flames.

  ‘Valerie!’ Mason was shouting and banging on the door of the stern deck. ‘Valerie!’

  There was no response and Mason wiped a hand over his face then took a deep breath and barged his shoulder into the door, once, twice, three times. Summer was telling the dispatcher where to send the fire brigade. She stepped closer to Moonshine, but Mason held his hand up.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Stay there, Summer.’ He was breathless, his voice ragged, but he put his shoulder into the door again, and this time it sprang back, coming off one of its hinges. Black smoke poured out into the air, and Mason started coughing.

  ‘You can’t—’ Summer began, but Mason put his arm up over his face as the acrid black smoke billowed around him and disappeared inside the boat.

  ‘Mason!’ Summer called. ‘Valerie!’ She stood on the towpath, wondering what to do, feeling numb and helpless and panicked. The smoke continued to pour out of the door and now she could see the orange of flames licking at the window at the bow end of the boat. A silver tabby appeared, bounding out of the open doors, its paws black with soot. Summer scooped it into her arms.

  ‘Harvey,’ she said, noting the cat’s thinner face. ‘Oh God, Harvey.’ She hugged him to her, and then gasped as Mason appeared, pulling Valerie out. Her nightdress was smudged with black and they were both coughing. Summer put Harvey down and ran forward, taking Valerie’s other arm and helping to carry her onto the grass. She was half-awake, dazed, everything sooty and smelling of smoke.

  ‘Valerie,’ Summer said, as they lowered her onto the grass. ‘Are you OK? Valerie?’

  She murmured something that Summer couldn’t make out, and Mason crouched next to her.

  He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come through the coughing. Summer reached out to him, squeezing his arm, and realized that he was shaking.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ she said, ‘the fire brigade and the ambulance. Are you all right, Mason?’

  He nodded, still coughing, and wiped his streaming eyes.

  Summer felt a tug on her dress, and looked down at Valerie.

  ‘M-Mike,’ she managed, through wheezy, laboured breaths.

  Summer went cold. ‘Valerie, was he—’

  ‘Mike,’ she said again, and then closed her eyes.

  ‘Who’s Mike?’ Mason managed.

  ‘Her other cat,’ Summer said, ‘but Mason, you can’t—’

  He pushed himself to standing and ran back towards Moonshine, and Summer scrambled up, skidding on the grass, racing after him and calling his name. She looked back to see Dennis and Jenny rushing out of the pub door, dressing gowns on, and thought she could hear the sound of sirens in the distance.

  ‘Mason!’ she called. ‘You can’t! Please, Mason!’ but he was gone, back inside the boat, the black smoke pouring into the sky in huge, dark plumes, the orange lick of flames eating its way down the boat. Summer stepped onto the deck and put her hand over her face. Even here, the smoke was acrid. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the tears streaming down her face a mixture of smoke and panic. ‘Mason!’ she called again. ‘Please, Mason!’

  ‘He’s not gone back on there, has he?’ Dennis was at her side.

  ‘He’s gone back for Mike,’ she managed, ‘one of Valerie’s cats.’ She took a ste
p towards the door and Dennis pulled her back onto the towpath and away from the burning boat. At first Summer struggled to escape his grasp, but Dennis held on tightly, saying words that Summer couldn’t take in. He led her over to a bench and sat her down, and Summer stared at Moonshine through her streaming eyes, thinking as every second passed that it was too late, he’d been on there too long. She kept repeating his name, over and over again, until the sirens got louder and blared out their approach, and people began to emerge from other boats, Claire and Ryder and Norman.

  Summer stared at Moonshine, willing Mason to appear, not daring to think about the other possibility.

  And then, behind the noise of the sirens, and the confident words of the paramedics as they approached Valerie, and Claire shouting her name and asking her what had happened, she heard coughing. She stood, shrugging off Dennis’s hand, and rushed towards Moonshine, but was overtaken by four firemen who approached the boat ahead of her. She kept her eyes trained on the stern doors and billowing smoke, trying not to look at the flames curling along Valerie’s boat, creeping closer and closer to where she’d seen Mason go in, and then there was a glimmer of movement at the stern and suddenly Mason was there, staggering, coughing, his face smudged and sweating – and he had Mike in his arms.

  Summer raced forwards, but this time one of the firemen held her back while the others took hold of Mason and lifted Mike gently out of his arms. They led him to the grass and lowered him carefully down, and a paramedic crouched next to him.

  Summer tried to pull herself out of the fireman’s grasp. She could feel Claire squeezing her arm, but she couldn’t look away from Mason.

  ‘Is he OK?’ she asked nobody in particular. ‘Please, can I go and see him?’

  Mason was coughing relentlessly, his whole body shaking, and the paramedic was kneeling beside him, calmly taking an oxygen mask out of her pack and placing it over his mouth and nose.

  ‘Give them a moment,’ the fireman said. ‘He’s awake, that’s the main thing.’