Cut to the Chase (20 page)

‘Look, I'm not really struck on this idea of a coal barge…!'

‘I don't give a rats arse what you think!' McKay snapped angrily. ‘It's my job to get you out of here until the heat's off, the High Commissioner doesn't want one of his countrymen in custody on a charge of murdering an Indonesian political figure when there are delicate talks going on in Canberra about oil rights in the Timor Sea. And for your information, it is
not
a coal barge…it's a poo barge!'

They had travelled about a quarter of a mile before the implication sank in.

‘It's a
what
?'

‘I wondered when you'd wake up…a poo barge is one that transports sewage.'

‘I'm not travelling on a sewage barge.'

McKay collapsed into roars of laughter. Wallace entirely failed to see the joke. Finally McKay took pity on him and stated that he had only been joking. Wallace still failed to see the joke.

‘Look, what exactly have you arranged?'

McKay took a grip on himself, and removed his left hand from the wheel and made a placatory gesture.

‘All right all right,' McKay said. ‘Now listen…it's a canal barge, and if you've ever been on a caravan holiday it's similar to that,' he paused at traffic lights and they both peered carefully around. McKay scanned the rear view mirror, what he saw, or didn't see, appeared to satisfy him.

‘The canal system of England is one of those wasted assets, when you consider how it's been abused and neglected it's a miracle it has survived at all…here we go,' McKay said as the lights changed to green. ‘Where was I? Yes…I won't go too deeply into the history of it, but it's a fascinating one, maybe you could deliver one of your speeches about it one day. It came into existence before the railways did, in the days when the roads were bloody awful and travelling on them in stage coaches was a misery and people had to contend with vehicles without adequate suspension, and also highwaymen.'

He applied the brakes with a curse as another set of traffic lights loomed up.

‘Another point was that transport of goods was a problem, the roads were so bad that any merchandise was badly shaken up and if crockery or ceramics was being moved by road it could arrive in bits and if it was machinery it didn't do it much good either. If there were any decent roads and they were carting heavy goods or machinery around it was still bloody hard going. So somebody had the bright idea of making waterways, much of the drive for a canal system came from Staffordshire where a lot of pottery was manufactured, and soon a network of them was formed and they eventually spread over most of the country.'

He gave a grunt as the traffic lights changed and took off again.

‘Then the railways came along, they competed and were much faster, railways bought up the canals and they went to rack and ruin and some of them never recovered.'

‘So what's the point of me using one then?'

‘Because back in the 1940s when the war was over people realised what an asset they were, not only from the pleasure aspect, but also water supply. They started forming organisations to restore them, they have re-opened many of them and much of the network has been restored. There is a thriving pleasure industry now, and there are many companies who hire out pleasure barges to sail the system. That's what you are going to use…they are similar to caravans, except they go on the water.'

He waited for Wallace to say something, but Wallace was still sulking. Nevertheless, even though he was still in a sullen mood he was also becoming interested in what McKay was telling him.

‘You can travel from London to Bristol; to Birmingham, Manchester, and Liverpool and as far north as York… I think you can even go beyond York to a place named Ripon, so it goes a long way. You can also get into North Wales, once you've got your boat you can go anywhere, I don't think there are any restrictions by the hirers – so long as you don't try and take it out to sea or some of the river estuaries. The boats themselves are limited to being seven feet wide.'

‘Why is that?' Wallace asked, becoming more interested despite his bad mood.

‘It's a question of water supply. The canals go up and down with the contours of the land, and to do that the engineers had to work on a locks system. Birmingham is fairly high up and you'll find long banks of locks to get up there. The system was supplied, still is, by many old watercourses that were diverted a couple of hundred years ago to supply the system from the top. England has a heavy rainfall so there's enough water but it made sense to limit the size of the locks to seven feet wide, despite the good rainfall the supply isn't limitless.'

‘We'd never have a canal system in Australia then.'

‘Well we have but not on this scale. Anyway, as far as you're concerned, they are seven feet wide. One point to watch is that your bow and stern are not caught in the lock wall when the water is rising when you're going up a bank of locks.'

‘Who operates the locks?'

‘Lock-keepers, that is within the London area and maybe some other cities, I'm not sure about that, but in the main you'll be operating them yourself because the system doesn't generate enough income to pay lock-keepers wages. That's how it's been for years, but you'll find many locks will always have a pub attached, it was one way of ensuring lock-keepers were able to earn a crust. Nowadays they are publicans pure and simple and have little to do with opening and closing lock gates. The pubs are good and with some of them it's like going back in time over 200 years.'

‘How long will it take me to get up there?'

‘Depends on you, I'd say about ten days maybe less. But you're in no hurry, your American trip will probably be on hold anyway until you're cleared.'

‘What about fuel?'

‘Carry it in cans, but if you need more you just fill up, there are petrol stations just like on a road. It pays to top up when you see one.'

‘What about money, I can't use credit cards, they'll track them straight away.'

‘Leave that to me, I'll book the craft so you don't have to worry about that. Here's £500, which should tide you over. But I need a receipt, OK?'

‘What do I do about food?'

‘Buy it, there are facilities, same as for fuel. I've stashed some food in the boot, mainly eggs, but some tinned food as well plus a can opener!'

The boat yard was full of canal craft. Wallace saw some quite racy looking speed boats and looked around with interest. It seemed to be quite a thriving inland port and he thought back to what McKay had told him. McKay lifted the suit case out of the car boot, together with a grocery bag.

‘Stay here and leave this to me,' McKay said, then as an after thought he rummaged in the glove box and produced sunglasses and a baseball cap. ‘Put these on and pull the brim down fairly low.' Then he left and entered a small brightly painted office on the quay with a large sign “BOAT HIRE” outside it. Wallace sat down disconsolately. There was a delay, and then McKay emerged from the wooden building accompanied by a young woman.

‘Bring your case, Harry…er…er…Tom,' he said. His eyes roved to the one side where the girl was walking and he waggled his nose. Wallace got the message and had to admit that she was worth a second look. She was young a woman of probably late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a tight, white blouse. She knew how to walk too, and Wallace felt his mouth go dry as he looked at her and then hastily averted his eyes. He wondered if she was included in the rental with the boat.

“Tom” picked up his case and followed McKay, the girl led the way and Wallace was fascinated with the movement of her hips, which drew to his attention how long it was since he had con-sorted with a woman. Her figure was reminiscent of Fernandes' secretary in Jakarta.

The craft looked reasonable, even Wallace had to admit that. It was about thirty feet long, with a large cabin with a windscreen and a roof. The wheel was in the cabin, and within the well there was a door that presumably led into the living quarters.

‘The cabin is through here,' said the young woman, and bent down to get down into the well. She opened the door and entered. McKay caught Wallace's eye as her hips swung easily through the door and they exchanged glances. Despite their uneasy relationship they appeared to be agreed on one point. They followed her through and Wallace was startled to find that the cabin was more spacious than it looked from the outside, despite the seven foot width limitation. The bunk was in the bow while above the bunk was a small hatch. There was also a small kitchenette.

‘The toilet is through there, you can empty it at various points along the canals as you go,' she said and showed a slight semblance of embarrassment. ‘Don't empty it into the canal, it's against the law, you must use a disposal point. You can cook all your meals down here, there's an outlet to take out the fumes. There's also a fridge, it's operated by Calor Gas.'

‘Where is the gas cylinder?'

‘Through here,' she indicated a small space in the stern. ‘It's full, it was replaced yesterday.'

‘What is that hatchway there for?' Wallace indicated the hatch above the bunk.

‘Just a way out, should anything go wrong.'

‘Like what?' Wallace looked blank but McKay intervened.

‘If you start a fire, or if one starts while you are in your bunk, you can get out without having to force your way past the flames,' he explained.

‘I'll check it,' she said. ‘It's easy to open it.'

The girl knelt on the bunk and stretched upwards. Wallace heard McKay give an intake of breath as she arched her back to reach the hatch.

‘Christ!' he muttered. They both watched avidly as she removed the hatch and daylight poured in. She replaced it and looked at them and they hastily looked away. It seemed to Wallace that she was fully aware of the effect she was having, and she seemed to like it.

McKay settled all the details and Wallace stayed aboard the craft. When McKay returned they had a brief chat then he turned away.

‘Memorise my telephone number, OK? Just take your time and don't draw attention to yourself. And you'd better sign this otherwise it will come out of my wages. Be warned, after this is all over, they might want it back, so don't spend it on wild living.'

He placed a form in front of Wallace; it was for the £500 he had previously given him. Wallace signed it after checking the wording, for all he knew it could have been a confession. But a receipt was all it appeared to be, he turned it over to check there was nothing on the back of it.

‘Suspicious bastard aren't you!' McKay commented sourly.

‘Just making sure, that's all,' Wallace said coldly, and signed it with a flourish.

‘OK,' McKay picked it up and gave it a cursory glance. ‘Now you've got this boat for three weeks, I can extend it if necessary but we should have you off the hook by then…hold on…what's this? I thought you said your name was Harry.'

‘It is!'

‘Well you've signed this J. H. Wallace.'

Wallace explained the saga about his first name, Josiah, and the fact that he never used it, but when signing documents he used the proper initials.

‘Can't say I blame you; sometimes mothers can be a boy's worst enemy,' McKay nodded sympathetically and then turned back into the wheelhouse. ‘OK, keep in touch, and let me know when you're in position anywhere near to Craddock, or the man we suspect could be Craddock. Give me a call when you are able… and don't draw attention to yourself.'

He disembarked and began walking off, then turned as a thought struck him.

‘By the way…don't shave.'

‘Eh?'

‘Don't shave, grow a beard. There might be pictures of you on television.'

W
allace delayed his departure until the following morning; he certainly wasn't going to risk running aground with McKay looking on. After donning McKay's sunglasses and baseball cap, he found that starting the engine was fairly easy, but committed a faux pas as he had slipped it into drive before casting off which he found most embarrassing with the young woman looking through the window of the office. He angrily disengaged and had to ease the craft back a fraction to cast off.

He finally eased the boat away from the side of the boat harbour and put the engine onto low throttle. As he headed to the first lock the girl came out of the office doorway and gave a friendly smile and a wave. As he responded Wallace suddenly felt a desperate longing, somehow her flashing smile, friendly wave and her physical attractions shafted deep into his consciousness and, like a ray of sunshine, made him feel good.

She reminded him of a girl he had known in Melbourne many years ago, he felt very homesick and frustrated as the boat swung into the middle of the harbour. He became aware she was still watching. She probably watched all her charges go, maybe checking that the hirers didn't hit anything on the way out.

She waved again and her smile was like a beacon, Wallace responded and then she turned and made her way back to the office. Wallace exited the harbour, rounded the harbour entrance and into the canal lock and looked back. She had disappeared.

It was heavier going than he thought it would be, as the night drew in he drew up alongside the canal bank without knowing where he was and moored. As he hashed some tinned peas and corned beef, he resolved to buy some frozen foods later on to put in the fridge. After he had chased it down with some coffee he felt better, and found that listening to the water lapping against the sides of the boat was most soothing. It was a moonlit night and the stars were bright, it was also cold but not unduly so.

Wallace had made his way out of the London outskirts without experiencing too much trouble with any locks. Some of them had lock-keepers who greeted him like an old friend as he passed through. It appeared as though there was still commercial traffic in this area that made employment of lock-keepers worthwhile. He returned the greetings confident that his accent sounded just like one of the natives, he thought it more than likely that after exposure to southern English accents over a period of about a week that his former mode of speech would return and the Australian inflexion would recede into the background. From an accent point of view he could probably just merge in. Having English parents was a great advantage in the present circumstances.