by Leo McNeir
The snow had stopped earlier that evening, and a pale hazy moonlight was shining through wispy cloud cover, reflecting back from the whitewashed landscape. Standing on the bridge, they looked down towards the boat. Despite the frosty air and Glastonbury’s situation, trapped in the ice, the scene before them was far from hostile. Lights shone from the portholes, the boat lay at ease in the snow, and smoke rose up from the chimney. It was a timeless prospect and could have been a Victorian painting or an illustration from an old storybook.
“Everything looks okay,” Ralph said.
“You think so?” Marnie squeezed his arm. “These old boats look cosy and romantic, but life on board can still be hard.”
“Are you worried about them, Marnie?”
She paused before replying. “I suppose not. They’ve been living on the boat for a long time. They know what they’re doing. All the same, I know where I’d rather be.”
“Have you had enough of camping out on Thyrsis and Sally?”
“I can’t afford to think about that, Ralph. It would lead to frustration. Let’s just say I’ll be more than glad when we can move into the farmhouse. That’s what comforts me while camping out, as you put it.”
Ralph put an arm round Marnie’s shoulders. “I’m hoping this will be our last winter as live-aboards.”“That would be nice.” Marnie nodded towards Glastonbury. “For Willow and Ben that’s their home for the indefinite future. No fall-back position for them.”
“It’s the way of life they’ve chosen, Marnie. Many would envy them. They travel around, see new places, meet new people.”
“New people,” Marnie repeated. “Talking of which, have you noticed that whenever I raise the subject of Maurice Dekker, Willow steers the conversation away?”
Chapter 10
Meeting
Marnie studied the list that Anne placed on her desk first thing each day. It had become a point of honour with her to clear every item unless some force majeure intervened. On the list for Thursday Anne had cut out the name Maurice Dekker from the previous day’s list and stapled it to the new one. Marnie dialled the number from his card.
The person you are phoning is not available. Please try again later.
Hadn’t this man heard of voicemail? Filled with frustration, Marnie disconnected. She had a busy life to lead and didn’t need someone else’s details cluttering up her system. Anne saw her expression across the office and made a suggestion. She would take over the task of contacting Dekker and would ring him each morning at ten-thirty while waiting for the kettle to boil. If that produced no result she would do the same at break in the afternoon and again at the end of the working day. Marnie accepted. Problem solved, or at least deferred. She detached the name from her list and pinned it to the corkboard.
The phone rang.
“Marnie, it’s Margaret Giles. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering about your new visitors. Are they still with you?”
“They’re here till the end of the Ice Age, Margaret.”
“Then they could be here for some time,” Margaret said.
Marnie smiled. “Could be. You want to talk to Willow?”
“Who?” Incredulity.
“Ben’s mother.”
“Yes, I would rather, but I wonder if we could meet on neutral ground.”
“You don’t want her to come to the school?”
“I don’t want her to feel she’s being sent for.”
“Is there a problem?”
Margaret paused. “I want to talk to her about Ben’s education.”
“Do you mean Ben’s schooling?”
“Well, yes, in an unthreatening way. I don’t want to appear confrontational. When I saw him riding by yesterday, I thought perhaps he might benefit from coming to school while he’s in the area.”
“That seems a reasonable … riding by?”
“On his horse, yes, down the high street.”
“I’ll have a word with Willow and get back to you.”
*
The only practical way of organising the meeting was for Marnie to fetch Margaret from school in the Discovery at the end of the day and bring her down to Glebe Farm. They assembled in the office barn. Anne did her best to make it as welcoming as possible with tea and biscuits on the low table and a small vase of snowdrops as its centrepiece. Margaret asked Marnie and Anne to stay to create a social, informal atmosphere.
When Willow and Ben walked in, they seemed relaxed and happy to see the head teacher. Margaret thanked them for agreeing to meet her and began by explaining that it was not obligatory under the law for a child to attend school in England.
“You of course know that, Mrs …”
“Willow.” She smiled. “Just Willow. Yes I do know that.”
“And you educate Ben at home.”
“On the boat, yes. It’s our home. A lot of people do it.”
“How many?” Marnie asked. “Is it known?”
“More than fifty thousand families do it,” Willow said. “Could be double that, or even more.”
“Really?” Marnie looked at Margaret. “I had no idea.”
Margaret nodded. “Willow’s quite correct.”
“You’ve come to see if Ben can go to your school, haven’t you?” Willow said calmly.
“I’ve come to see if he might like to, if you think it’s a good idea. Personally I have nothing against home schooling, though I can see certain disadvantages in terms of social development. Sorry, I’m sounding like a textbook.”
“He’d like to come.”
Margaret stared at Willow. “He would?”
“Yes,” said Ben. “I would.”
*
At supper Ralph announced that he would like to help with the search for Maurice Dekker and he had an idea. Anne’s scheme of phoning Dekker’s number at regular intervals had met with no success. He suggested an alternative approach.
If Marnie would lend him her car, he would drive up to places where the road met the canal and see if Maurice Dekker’s boat was stranded in the ice.
“Where do you have in mind?” Marnie asked.
“I could start at Stoke Bruerne, then go on to Blisworth and points north up to Bugbrooke and Braunston.”
“What makes you think he’s up there?” said Marnie.
“That was his general direction of travel.”
“And why isn’t he answering his phone?”
“Easy, elementary you might say. If he’s caught in the ice, he might not have any means of charging it.”
Marnie sat back in her chair. “That makes sense, actually. We don’t know what his situation is. In fact, we don’t know anything about him at all.”
“Then it’s time to find out,” said Ralph.
Chapter 11
Gippo
Ralph had to admit, Marnie had a point. Much as he loved his Volvo, a love affair that had lasted for a decade, he recognised that it could not perform like Marnie’s Discovery. Her car made light work of climbing the field track, admittedly slowly, but he was never in any doubt that he would reach the top. Most other cars would give up and opt for hibernation in those conditions.
That Friday morning he parked near the museum in Stoke Bruerne and walked the towpath as far as the tunnel and then back down past the locks until he could see the road bridge near the end of the flight. There was nothing visible that resembled the description of Dekker’s boat.
Ralph was trekking back along the slushy towpath when he heard a voice behind him. Looking round, he saw a face peering out from a moored maintenance boat.
“Lost something?” It was a BW technician.
“Someone, to be precise.” Ralph walked a few steps back towards the man. “Or his boat.”
“It’s Professor Lombard, isn’t it? Your Marnie Walker’s um …”
“Correct. And your name?”
“Phil Greener. So who might you be looking for, then?”
“A man called Dekker. He’s on a boat travelling somewhere in this a
rea, or so we believe.”
“D’you know its name?”
“No. It’s painted all over in red undercoat or maybe primer.” Phil looked thoughtful but said nothing. Ralph continued. “Northwich Trader? Possibly a replica? Sixty-footer or thereabouts?”
“Ah, yes, that rings a bell. What was the man’s name again?”
“Dekker. Maurice Dekker.”
Phil considered this for several seconds. “Friend of yours, professor?”
“Never met him. There’s mail waiting for him in Knightly St John at the post office. We’ve been trying to contact him.”
“I can put the word around for you.”
Ralph took out a business card and wrote a number on the back.
“That’s Marnie’s office number. It’s the one to call. Thanks for your help.”
Ralph was turning to go when Phil spoke again.
“You definitely don’t know him?”
Ralph shook his head. “He’s just passing through.”
Phil frowned. “Best to keep it that way. Good afternoon.”
He disappeared inside the cabin before Ralph could respond.
*
Margaret Giles ushered the visitors into her office and invited them to sit in easy chairs. Willow was in her green dungarees, Ben in jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt.
Margaret began the meeting with words of welcome. The school would be happy for Ben to attend on a voluntary basis for the duration of their stay in the area. The only conditions were that he should come to school every day, obey school rules, arrive punctually and not leave until the end of lessons and activities.
Willow for her part made it clear that she was unsure how long they would be staying and would be moving on as soon as the boat could travel. She thought it would be good for Ben to meet other children and have lessons with them. It was agreed that he would start at the school on Monday morning.
Margaret asked if Willow had any questions. Her main concern was about uniform. She did not want her son to look different from the other children, but there was no point in trying to buy school clothes when they might be gone in a week.
Margaret shook her head. “There’s no problem, Mrs, er, Willow. Winter uniform for the boys is a maroon pullover or sweatshirt, white or grey shirt and dark trousers. Do you have such items?”
“Might have a grey shirt.”
“Good. The school has a surplus clothes locker. I’m sure we can kit Ben out with a pullover or a sweatshirt for his stay.”
“Hand-me-downs?” Willow looked doubtful.
“The children grow out of their clothes so quickly, we ask parents to donate any surplus clothes in good condition for use by others.” Margaret eyed Ben’s jeans and boots. “We don’t normally allow jeans, but I’ve relaxed the rules while there’s so much snow around. The same goes for shoes. Boots are fine, though we still don’t allow trainers. They’re useless in these conditions … make the children’s feet wet.”
Willow and Ben seemed content with the arrangements and were about to leave when Margaret mentioned that she had some questions about Ben’s level of attainment.
“I need an idea of how proficient Ben is at subjects like reading and maths.”
“Okay.”
Margaret turned to Ben. “Do you like reading, Ben?”
“Yes.”
“What do you read?”
“Everything.”
“What do you like best?”
“Stories, books about Hornblower.”
“C. S. Forester? Very good. Can you remember the titles of any that you’ve read?”
“I’ve read all of them. Mum bought the whole set last year.”
“Which one are you reading at the moment?”
“It’s not a Hornblower. It’s called The Ship. It’s about a light cruiser in the war. I don’t like it as much as the others, but it’s all right.”
Margaret established that Ben read every day and had a large collection of books on many subjects, including history and geography.
“Do you know the capital of Italy, Ben?”
“Rome.”
“And Spain?”
“Madrid.” There was no hesitation in his answers.
“What does 1066 mean to you?”
“Norman conquest. William defeated Harold at the battle of Hastings. Bayeux Tapestry.”
“Do you ever go to church?”
“No.”
“Do you know any bible stories?”
“Adam and Eve, things like that? I’ve got a book about those stories.”
“Do you like them?”
“Not much.”
“What don’t you like?”
Ben thought for some seconds. “God.”
Margaret looked surprised. “God?” she repeated. “You don’t like God?”
Ben shook his head. “No. He does weird stuff. Not nice. Plagues and things. Tried to get one man to kill his son … Abraham.”
“Do you know why he did that?”
“No. Weird, horrible.” Ben’s face registered extreme distaste.
Margaret smiled at Willow. “Ben seems to have absorbed a great deal, considering that you spend your time travelling. A young man of strong views. Does he get them from you, perhaps, Willow?”
“We talk a lot about what he reads, but his opinions are his own.”
“You have a large collection of books?”
“Yes. We can’t belong to a lending library, obviously, so I get them in jumble sales for both of us, for peanuts.”
“You seem to have chosen well for Ben.”
Willow shrugged. “We can’t afford space for things that won’t last. Have you been on a narrowboat?”
“I’ve been on Sally Ann and Thyrsis. They’re smaller than your boat, I believe.”
“Yes.”
“Willow, there’s something I need to ask you. This is a state school but supported by the Church of England. We have a service as part of our assembly every morning and once a month the vicar takes a longer service in the hall. These are attended by all pupils. Would that be a problem for you or Ben?”
“It’s only a problem if we make it a problem. What do you think, Ben?”
“Don’t mind.”
“Good.” Margaret looked at her watch and checked the timetable. “I think Ben’s going to settle in well here. You’re very welcome, Ben. Now morning break is about to start so this is a good time for us to have a quick word with Ben’s class teacher, Mr Meadows.”
*
By the time Ralph reached Braunston, he was beginning to regret offering to help find Maurice Dekker. He had work to do, a seminar to prepare, a chapter to write. This would definitely be his last outing in search of the missing Dekker and his boat.
A gang of workmen was gathered round Braunston bottom lock inspecting a gate. In blue hard hats and yellow jackets they made a colourful sight in the snow. Ralph was skirting round them when one of the men glanced at him.
“You must be Professor Lombard.”
Ralph was surprised. He had never seen the man before in his life.
“I am. Have we met?”
The man shook his head. “Phil Greener phoned from Stoke Bruerne.”
“Of course.”
“You’re looking for a man on a Northwich Trader? Name of Dekker?”
“You’ve seen him?”
“Oh yes. He came by a couple of days ago.”
“Any idea where he might be now? Silly question, I know, but he might have mentioned where he was going in passing.”
“Not a great conversationalist, our Mr Dekker, but he was going north, or trying to. My guess is, he’s probably stuck somewhere between here and Napton.”
“I see.” Ralph looked at his watch.
The engineer smiled again. “It’s a long way to walk on a chilly day, a remote part out there, not many crossing points where you can drive.”
Ralph frowned. “Are you able to get an ice-breaker through?”
“No point when it
’s like this. It’ll just keep freezing over. But don’t worry. We’ve got patrols out checking isolated boats.”
Ralph decided it was time to be getting back and thanked the engineer for his time.
“Clever of you to guess who I was,” he said as he took his leave.
It had not been so clever to guess who he was. The engineer watched Ralph go, in his sheepskin coat and large black Russian fur hat. Dekker was not the only man on the waterways who was different from the usual boatman.
*
Mrs Giles and Mr Meadows walked towards the staffroom while Willow and Ben made their way across the playground. It was break time and the children playing in the snow watched the newcomer with interest.
Mrs Giles paused at the staffroom door and looked up at her colleague. He was a little taller than her, nudging thirty, his hair showing signs of thinning on top.
“I think our new pupil will be an interesting addition to the class. We’ll give him some tests when he starts, but I think you’ll find he’s quite an accomplished boy, considering he’s been taught at home by his mother.”
“So our little Gippo’s starting on Monday,” he said.
“Mr Meadows!” Margaret looked shocked, keeping her voice low. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to talk about one of our charges.”
The man looked embarrassed. “I was only thinking of that book, you know, The Water Gypsies. I didn’t mean to be offensive.”
“I’m sure it was just a slip of the tongue, but one has to be careful.”
“Of course, Mrs Giles.”
The head teacher went off to her room where a parent was waiting to see her. Mr Meadows watched her go, biting his lip. He rested a hand on the doorknob and paused before going in.
Accomplished. Let’s see how good the little Gippo is at long division, he thought.
Chapter 12
Contact
During breakfast on Saturday the radio news programme was full of statistics: the coldest January since 1962, the most snow since 1947 and on and on. More snow had fallen during the night, and Marnie was becoming increasingly concerned about Willow and Ben on their boat. Anne was worried about Poppy. On her way to Sally Ann from the office barn, she looked in at the stable barn and found the horse settled down in the straw, apparently content. She loaded the wheelbarrow manger with hay and refilled the bucket with fresh water before patting Poppy on the neck and resuming her walk with an easy mind.