‘Yeah Mason, what is it?’ Doug asked.
‘Paint your boat yellow,’ Mason said, his expression solemn. ‘And then write Ryder’s Independent Trading Co. on the side. You could always add your most common destinations too. Willowbeck, Little Venice, Peckham. Is there a canal that runs through Peckham, does anyone know?’
‘Brilliant idea,’ Ralph said. ‘Yes, Ryder. Go for it.’
‘It’s so innovative.’ Doug shook his head in wonder.
‘It’s genius,’ Jas said, replacing empty glasses with full ones.
‘It is?’ Ryder looked from one face to the next, as everyone tried to hold in their laughter.
Summer was grinning. She wished that Mason had actually done it – painted Ryder’s boat yellow and added the slogan that adorned the Trotters’ three-wheeler in Only Fools and Horses, instead of just suggesting it.
Summer could almost see the cogs working as Ryder tried to figure out the joke. And then, the penny dropped. He threw a beer mat at Mason’s head, and the table descended into laughter. After the confused, uncomfortable silence of earlier, it was very welcome, and even Ryder didn’t seem to mind having a joke made at his expense.
This, Summer knew, was the real group of friends. They might not always travel together, they might make mistakes every now and then, but when it came to the important things, they wouldn’t let each other down. That was one of the joys of living on the waterways – your friends would always have your back. And, Summer knew from past experience, that was completely invaluable.
Chapter Nine
It was Christmas Eve. They had made it. Summer wasn’t quite sure why it felt so momentous to have reached Christmas Eve with their boat still afloat, but as she lay next to Mason, listening to someone singing ‘O Holy Night’ badly from the towpath, she felt happiness swoop through her stomach and up into her chest. Mason breathed deeply and rolled over, and then his body tensed and he was awake, sitting bolt upright before Summer could grab hold of him.
‘What day is it?’ he asked warily.
‘Christmas Eve. Were you having a bad dream?’
‘No.’ He blinked sleep out of his eyes and lay back down on the pillows. ‘A deep sleep, that’s all. It took me a moment to orientate myself.’
‘We’re in Little Venice,’ she said, laughing softly. ‘We have been for three weeks. And tomorrow is Christmas Day.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ He smiled up at the ceiling. ‘It’s been quite eventful, all things considered. Are you looking forward to going home?’
‘Yes,’ Summer said. ‘I can’t wait to see Willowbeck again. But in a way I’m glad we’ve ended up here for Christmas Day. Little Venice is such a beautiful place, we’ve been so lucky to come here, despite all the … complications. We’ll probably have lots of Christmases in Willowbeck, so this one will always stand out. Valerie and Norman are fine, Dennis and Jenny are putting on a Black Swan Christmas which they’re both going to, and we’ll see everyone in a couple of weeks, anyway.’
Over the last few days the temperature had risen, the ice on the surface of the canal had thawed, and things were slowly starting to get back to normal. Ryder and Jas had heard word of disaster areas along some stretches of the waterway. Not everywhere had frozen over, but many of the narrower parts had, and there were several places that were blocked, with narrowboats trying to get to their Christmas destinations as soon as the river was passable. They’d advised that staying put until at least Boxing Day would give the routes a chance to clear.
‘And The Sandpiper,’ Mason added. ‘I hope a bird hasn’t got in while we’ve been away. Or a squirrel! Bloody hell.’ He ran a hand through his hair, looking momentarily traumatized.
‘It’s fine.’ Summer wrapped her arms around him. ‘Valerie did a recce yesterday. Everything is spick-and-span, no squirrel gnawings or bird poo. She’s waiting for you with open arms.’
‘Waiting for us,’ Mason corrected. ‘She’s your home too, you know.’
‘We’re a two-home family, get us!’ Summer laughed.
‘And a two-fractious-dog family soon if we don’t feed them and take them for their morning ablutions.’
‘Mmmmm.’ Summer snuggled into him. ‘But we could have a bit longer in bed, surely? We don’t have anything to do today. We’ve got all the food in for tomorrow, and we’re not opening the café.’
They’d made the decision to close their boats on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. They’d worked so hard in the run-up – Summer was making brandy butter macarons in her sleep – and thought that the last-minute, mad-dash shoppers wouldn’t be as likely to stroll along the towpath today anyway, they’d be fighting the scrums in Tesco’s and Oxford Street. Summer was looking forward to a lazy day, soaking up the Christmas atmosphere in London, finding somewhere to go for a mulled wine and a mince pie.
Mason sat up again. ‘I do actually have a few things to do.’
‘Oh?’ Summer felt a wave of disappointment. ‘What?’
‘Well,’ he laughed awkwardly. ‘I might not have been quite as organized as you have, with … certain things.’
‘You know I don’t need anything for Christmas, Mason. Other than you.’
He cupped her chin and kissed her. ‘It’s all under control, but I’ll need to pop out at some point. Come on, those dogs won’t wait forever.’
They had just finished a breakfast of bacon sandwiches with cranberry sauce when there was a loud banging on the door. Summer frowned at Mason, but he made no move to get up.
‘I hope that’s not somebody asking why the café isn’t open,’ she muttered, but when she stepped through the kitchen door she saw it was Claire, wearing a long maroon duffle coat and black woolly hat.
‘Hello! Happy Christmas Eve,’ she said, inviting Claire onto the boat.
‘You too. And guess what we’re doing today?’
Summer looked at her blankly.
‘We’re going to the zoo!’ She clapped her hands like an excited schoolgirl.
‘We are?’ Summer glanced behind her as Mason appeared in the doorway.
‘Yup, you and me, baby. Claire’s taking you to the zoo, today, the zoo, today, the zoo, today, Claire’s taking you—’
‘Are they even open on Christmas Eve?’
‘They are. I checked. Come on, get your coat.’
‘I’m, uh—’ She looked to Mason for help, but he just grinned at her.
‘It’s a great idea, and it’ll allow me to do what I need to, maybe finish off that article and get it to my editor before the end of the day.’
‘I thought you finished it yesterday?’
‘I’ve got a couple of last bits to tinker with. It’s an important piece, it will probably be seen by a lot more people than usual – online at least – so I want to make sure it’s perfect.’
‘There you go then,’ Claire said. ‘Winning all round.’
Summer went to put her coat on, slightly dazed at the turn of events. She couldn’t imagine that London Zoo was the most Christmassy place in the capital, or that they would sell mulled wine, but if Claire was desperate to go and Mason was happy to have her out of the way while he finished things off, then she couldn’t complain. She knew what it was like to feel unprepared for Christmas, and she wanted Mason to be as relaxed as possible before they started their long journey back to Willowbeck. And it wasn’t like the trip had been remotely predictable. After the events of the last few weeks, she could definitely cope with an impromptu trip to the zoo.
The festive spirit in the zoo took Summer by surprise. Claire insisted they see the penguins first, and Summer squealed with delight when she saw they had their own little Christmas tree in their enclosure, close to the water’s edge. There were red, green and gold baubles hanging from the trees down the zoo’s main walkways, and Christmas songs, Wham and Slade and Mariah Carey filtered out of speakers attached to every café and eatery.
There was a lot to see, and even though it was no longer as cold as it had been, they spe
nt a lot of time in the living rainforest, their hats and scarves coming off as they soaked in the tropical atmosphere. As they walked over to see the lions, Claire slipped her arm through Summer’s.
‘I’m sorry nothing worked out as planned here,’ she said.
‘What do you mean? I’ve been flat out in the café for three weeks instead of one. I’m thinking about taking the whole of January off to recover.’
‘You know what I’m talking about.’ Claire elbowed her gently in the ribs. ‘Me allowing Tania to dictate that we come down here, letting her trick me into thinking she’d be away when we arrived, and then – well, the unexpected end to that already uncomfortable story. Not to mention the weather turning villainous on us. Our festive jaunt to Little Venice hasn’t been smooth sailing.’
‘And it’s been all the better for it,’ Summer said.
Claire narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t humour me, Summer. I can take it.’
‘I’m serious.’ They stopped at a drinks stand and ordered two gingerbread lattes. ‘I wasn’t exactly delighted to see Tania, but it gave Mason a chance to talk to her, and I know that’s been a relief for him. Obviously, none of us were expecting her to actually be investigating Ryder for drugs, but from a selfish point of view …’ she shook her head, ‘it’s brought Mason and me closer together. I didn’t think that was possible, but it made me realize I was still feeling insecure about some things, and it gave me the push I needed to be honest with him. Even if, at the time I opened up, he had spent the previous six hours crouching in the freezing cold waiting for a glimpse of a bird of prey.’
‘Boys and their toys, eh? Though Mason isn’t as straightforward as most. And you’re not sad you won’t be in Willowbeck for Christmas?’
‘It’s not what I’d planned, but sometimes the unplanned things are the best things.’ She felt in her handbag, and pulled out the small navy box that housed Mason’s ring.
‘Why have you got that with you?’ Claire squealed.
‘Because I couldn’t think of anywhere on the boat I could put it where Mason wouldn’t find it. Don’t worry, I’m not going to dangle it near the gorilla cage.’
‘He rifles through your underwear drawer?’ Claire raised an eyebrow. ‘This latte by the way? Not a patch on yours.’
‘Thank you!’ Summer beamed. ‘And I agree, it needs a bit more syrup, and a bit less milk. But my cabin on board Madeleine is so small, we share a tiny cupboard for our clothes. Nowhere’s safe except my handbag.’
They sat on a bench on one of the wide esplanades watching families and couples, some strolling, some rushing to the next enclosure, dads in Santa hats, children with helium balloons in the shape of dinosaurs and parrots. There was a general air of Christmas merriment, the excitement of being at the zoo multiplied by the festivities. A family with four small children turned and stared as a man walked past leading two reindeer, the bells on their harnesses jingling.
‘Is Santa here?’ one of the children shouted. ‘Is he?’
The man, wearing navy overalls with the London Zoo logo on, turned to him with a smile. ‘Two thirty next to Penguin Beach. We might have a special guest. Obviously, he’s very busy at this time of year, but you never know.’
‘What will you do about your proposal now?’ Claire asked, once the children’s screams of delight had died down, and the reindeer had moseyed out of sight. ‘Wait until you’re back in Willowbeck?’
Summer put her latte on the bench and opened the small, velvet box, running her finger over the etched tree on the ring. ‘I think so,’ she murmured. ‘We’ll be travelling on New Year’s Eve, and while I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to, I still want it to be special – I don’t want to rush it.’ She looked up at Claire, whose lips were pressed together, trying to suppress a grin. ‘What? What is it?’
‘I’m so happy for you, Sum. You and Mason – you belong together. And he’ll love the ring, I know it.’
Summer felt the familiar jiggling in her stomach, but this time it wasn’t nerves, it was pure excitement. Claire was right, and as soon as they were back in Willowbeck, she would make her proposal – the event that had been delayed again and again and again – a reality. ‘Where do you want to go next?’ she asked Claire.
‘Komodo dragons,’ Claire said. ‘There’s nothing like seeing a couple of huge lizards with deadly saliva to get you in the Christmas spirit.’
When they left the zoo it was close to being dark, and they had to hurry through Regent’s Park before the gates were shut. The air was cold and the sky was full of pink-tinged cloud. The air felt like snow, and while snow meant it was too warm for the canal to ice over again, Summer didn’t want anything to disrupt their journey back to Willowbeck.
‘I wonder how Mason’s been getting on,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ Claire asked, giving Summer a strange look.
‘He said he had a few things to get finished. I’m not sure he’s got my Christmas present yet.’
‘Boys, eh? They always leave it until the last minute.’
‘Are you expecting anything from Ryder?’
‘For the last time, Summer, there is nothing going on with me and him.’
‘I think your relationship is the most ambiguous thing about the roving traders, especially now his business dealings have been outed as being less-than-dodgy.’ She laughed. ‘Poor Ryder, he was really stung about that.’
‘I’m going to do it, you know. Paint his boat like Del Boy’s van. It would be hilarious.’
‘Next time you’re in Willowbeck,’ Summer said. ‘We can get Mick at the boatyard to help.’
‘You’re on.’ Claire held out her hand for a high five, and Summer obliged.
They turned the corner and Summer could see the railings at the end of the road. They were almost back at the canal; back with Mason, Latte and Archie, a cosy Christmas Eve with a tapas-style meal and a bottle of wine. She grinned.
‘What time do you want us round tomorrow?’ Claire asked, slipping her phone out of her pocket, typing something quickly at her side.
‘About one. Ralph’s coming over earlier to help prep the food.’
‘Sounds good,’ Claire replied. ‘And what are we all bringing again?’
Summer rolled her eyes. ‘We’ve been through this about a gazillion times.’
‘I know I know, just humour me.’ Claire stopped walking, forcing Summer to do the same. They’d agreed to have Christmas lunch together, and Summer had offered to host it in the café, as it had the most space and was more formal than the cushions and beanbags on board The Wanderer’s Rest. Summer, Mason and Ralph were doing most of the cooking, and everyone was bringing a dish to contribute to the meal.
Claire had told her family that with the waterways so disrupted, she wouldn’t be able to visit them until closer to the New Year. She couldn’t leave Water Music in Little Venice, where the moorings would be in high demand, so she would wait until the roving traders were settled somewhere else before making the journey. She hadn’t seemed too disappointed, and Summer was glad they would be able to spend some of Christmas Day together.
It would be the ideal way to end their stay in Little Venice, a farewell before they all went their separate ways. Summer listed all the agreed dishes off on her fingers, but Claire wasn’t paying attention, her gaze darting everywhere but mostly at her phone. It buzzed quietly, and Claire grabbed her hand.
‘That’s grand, Summer. Great. Let’s get going, shall we? I’m so looking forward to tomorrow – the dessert part, especially, but don’t tell Ralph that.’
‘Are you OK?’ Summer asked. ‘You seem a bit distracted.’
‘What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, really fine.’
They reached the end of the road and, beyond the railings, the canal was laid out below them, the iconic blue bridge to their left.
Summer frowned. ‘Aren’t there more lights than usual?’
The railings, the narrowboats, the bridge – everywhere – seemed to be
adorned with fairy lights, the glow almost blinding, the scene lit up like daylight. Summer took a step forwards. She could sense Claire behind her.
‘No,’ she murmured, ‘hang on.’
Slowly, her eyes took it all in.
Not only was the whole place covered in fairy lights, but there were lanterns floating on the water. Shaped like small cubes, they were different colours; yellow and blue, red and green and purple, orange, white and pink. They were flickering softly, creating a sea of colour and light, like the most vibrant tulip field, only more magical against the darkness.
Summer gasped, her hands clutching the railing. ‘Who’s done this?’ she asked, turning to Claire. ‘Is this a Christmas Eve tradition in Little Venice?’
Claire was grinning. She shook her head and pointed to the bridge.
Music started up from somewhere. Summer couldn’t make out what it was at first, and then the tune hit her. It was ‘Don’t You Worry’ by Lucy Rose. Her heart started hammering. It was her favourite song. Why were they playing her favourite song?
‘The bridge, Sum,’ Claire whispered, and Summer looked.
She’d been distracted by the fairy lights, but now that she peered beyond them, she could see someone standing on the bridge. There was no traffic crossing it, no pedestrians drifting over it, stopping to look down at the water as they usually did. There was only one person. Someone distinct, someone whose silhouette she knew so well, with his mane of curls, his way of standing up straight but somehow always managing to look relaxed, easy, approachable.
A lump formed in her throat. Claire gently pushed her forward.
Summer walked slowly up the pavement towards the bridge, her hand trailing along the railings. She caught Mason’s eye and he smiled, held her gaze as she walked towards him. The music got louder, she sensed there were people standing, watching, but she could only focus on Mason, on the twinkling lights, the flickering lanterns.
She reached the bridge and stopped, facing the centre.
Mason was standing in the middle wearing a navy shirt, smart jeans, black boots. He was lit from both sides, the fairy lights making him seem magical, almost like a mirage. Archie and Latte were sitting at his feet, their leads tied to the railing. They seemed quiet, subdued. Waiting.
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