Narrow Minds (31 page)

At the end of the second scream, Geoff had arrived, out of breath and eyes wide, he obviously thought I was being murdered or at the very least eaten alive by one of the elusive big cats you see on the news.

‘Huff … what's the … puff … matter?' He shone the light around.

Now that there was light I stared around looking for the source of all my fears, straight into the eyes of a rather puzzled-looking Friesian that had broken away from the herd and come over to investigate the barking dog. The track I had been walking along was sunken between two fields so the cow was a lot taller than she had any right to be and hence the breath on the back of my neck.

Mortimer hadn't even noticed the cow, he was busy in the bushes still growling and scouting around .

‘So what's the matter?' Geoff stood with his hands on his knees breathing heavily; he had obviously run at the sound of the screams.

I could feel myself blushing. ‘Mortimer was growling and then I got breathed on by a cow and I couldn't see so I thought there was something really big behind me, and I couldn't see and all I could hear was this rustling and Mort was growling and snarling and I was really scared,' I gabbled at him.

‘You got breathed on by a ‘cow',' Geoff enunciated. He shook his head and taking a deep breath stood up and shone the torch on the dog. ‘Mort!' he snapped, ‘come here.'

Mortimer backed away from the grasses and bushes and trotted over with his tail waving.

‘I know it sounds stupid now.' I grabbed his arm and began dragging him back toward the boat. ‘But it was really frightening and you know I can't see in the dark.' Well that sounded pathetic even to me.

Geoff just snorted.

Back at home, I made tea and had to endure an hour of the kids creeping up behind me, blowing on my neck and shouting ‘Moo!!' at me before running away and giggling.

When all was finally quiet later on that evening, the kids were in bed and Geoff and I were having a last cup of tea, it occurred to me that as a species we haven't really come all that far. I had never actually seen anything on any dark night to be frightened of, so why should my imagination run riot? Why would I not think ‘cow' or ‘horse'? Maybe it's just inbuilt in all of us, a way of keeping safe, from back when our species was young. It also occurred to me that while it may be darker and scarier in the country, these days the dark is more dangerous in cities. I didn't really come up with any answers but I did manage to make a promise to myself that I would never again go out without at least two torches and a backup, and a backup for the backup.

Standing in the sunshine, looking down into the lock the next morning, I finally realised how the lock worked. Never actually having been through Salters Lode in this direction, I had always been slightly confused by descriptions of the two sets of lock gates, but taking a long look I could now see why only smaller boats could go through when the water was high.

At first glance it seemed like any other lock but, as the tidal waters receded, there slowly appeared another set of gates, these are set further back and are only half height, when the tide is high they are completely submerged so there we were waiting for the waters to drop enough so that those half-height gates could be used to get us through the lock and out into the tidal waters of the Great Ouse.

We spent much of the morning wandering about doing little jobs and occasionally peering over the lock gates. Slowly, very slowly, the waters began to drop. First the top of the gates could be seen, then a little more.

Eventually the lock keeper decided that it was as good as it was going to get and said we could give it a go.

I have to admit I didn't like the sound of that very much, I wanted more assurance than just ‘give it a go'. Out on the Great Ouse the wide river looked to be running very fast, far too fast for my liking.

But there really wasn't any way to turn back now. So we all piled aboard and Geoff brought her steadily in through both sets of rear gates.

‘The best thing you can do,' the keeper shouted over the sound of running water, ‘is to get her to turn as quickly as possible.' He pointed out toward the other lock. ‘How powerful is that engine of yours?'

‘It's OK,' Geoff shouted back at him.

OK! OK!! I was horrified, there was nothing about our engine that was remotely OK. It was lolly sticks, string and Blu-tack and that was on a good day.

The waters began to drop beneath us and within no time at all the big gates ahead of us opened up. There was no doubt, we were in for a bumpy ride.

The difference in water speed was horribly apparent as we pulled out of the lock and into the tiny channel that led out on to the river.

‘Pile on the power and turn,' the keeper shouted again.

Geoff did just that, with a huge belch of smoke that drifted out of the chimney and covered the lock keeper who was standing above us, we moved forward with a fairly rapid acceleration. Geoff kept the tiller far over, intending to get her nose around to the right as soon as he could.

Utter and complete failure. The rushing waters caught her nose as she emerged from the channel, dragged her out to mid stream and without a by your leave carried us away toward Kings Lynn. It was shocking how fast we were travelling, Geoff pushed the tiller over as far as he could and desperately attempted to get her nose round.

By the time we managed to get the situation under control, we were at least half a mile from the lock. We'd travelled that distance in about five minutes. Getting back past the lock and up to Denver Sluice against the tide took us at much longer.

The lock keeper waved as we chugged slowly past and made exaggerated relief movements, then grinned and waved again. We weren't dead, we were heading in the right direction he was happy.

Once inside the huge pound of Denver Sluice I could finally take a breath and peel my rigid fingers one by one from the top of the boat.

Geoff turned to me with a big grin. ‘That was exciting!'

It was no good, I really had no other choice, I had to slap him. (But only gently.) This was the second time in twelve hours where my heart had speeded up to at least twice its normal rate, one of these days it was all going to be too much for the poor thing and I was going to be looking at an extended stay in Addenbrooke's Hospital.

Chapter Thirteen
Nearly Home

T
HREE HOURS TRAVELLING AND
we finally had Ely in our sights, another boat had been following us for a while, it obviously was going faster than us because slowly, very slowly, it had been catching us up.

Deciding that this would be a good time to fill with water and pump out before sorting out the final leg of the journey to the moorings, we pulled into the pump point and busied ourselves with water and the huge pipes of the pump-out machine.

Minerva
is a little odd because she actually has two pump-out points. The waste tank forms a ‘U' shape across the boat and down both sides. It is actually two ‘L'-shaped tanks joined together with a huge pipe across the centre. Consequently it's quite hard to get a completely empty tank. We decided that just to make sure we had done everything properly we would pump out on both sides.

The boat following us drew closer. Finally we finished and noticed that they were holding position behind, obviously waiting for us to move on so that they too could use the pumping facilities.

We returned everything to its rightful place and closed the gates on the pump out and climbed back onto
Minerva
.

‘Oy!' A voice hailed us over the water. ‘Are you going to get your lazy bloody arses out of there or do we have to come over and give you a wee bit of a shove?'

Geoff and I looked at each other, the last major altercation I'd had with anybody had been almost on this very spot. We'd pulled
Happy Go Lucky
in for a pump-out and had managed to mortally offend a particularly grumpy angler. Things had gone downhill pretty rapidly that time. This time I was older and wiser and not in the mood to take any crap from anyone.

Turning around to deliver a withering mouthful I was arrested by the sight of two grinning faces. It's an odd feeling and I am positive that everybody has experienced it at one time or another. It's when you see someone that you know, so very well, but they're not where they should be, so for a split second you don't recognise them at all.

The other boat drew alongside, both occupants laughing uproariously at our stunned faces. ‘Oh you should have seen your face,' the woman said, her incredibly long hair floating out behind her in the wind. ‘If looks could kill, I'd be face down in the river by now.'

Her husband, sitting on the roof laughed. ‘Hello,' he said, ‘fancy seeing you here.'

All I could manage was a strangled, ‘Wha the hell?'

At that moment Sam stuck his head out of the double doors. ‘Uncle Scum!!' he shrieked.

‘Hello Sam,' both of them said in unison, ‘so how do you feel about having us as neighbours?' Drew laughed at Sam's stunned face.

Bill (Sarah) and Drew (Andrew) have known Sam since he was a bump. They were one of the reasons we originally thought of buying a boat, we'd been to their wedding, and had generally eaten, drunk and had a good time with them for what seemed like for ever.

They bought their boat
The Blue Boar
a couple of years before we even considered taking to the water and had spent most of the last six years swanning about around Oxford and Reading. They certainly never came as far as Cambridge.

‘What the hell are you doing here?' I finally managed to gasp.

‘We're heading for our new mooring.' Bill grinned at me as she leant on the tiller. I think we're two boats down from you.

‘Seriously?'

Drew nodded. ‘Yep, got fed up with wandering around Reading and decided to come back to Cambridge.' Bill had worked in Cambridge for some years before she met Drew.

‘Weather's closing in.' Bill pulled her collar up around her ears. ‘Was going to suggest a barby tonight but how about we just come round with a bottle of something and some food?'

I nodded, still unable to really speak.

‘OK.' They gave us twin evil grins. ‘We'll see you later.' Drew put a foot on
Minerva
's roof and pushed off.

We followed their progress in silence.

‘Are we going to be living next door to Uncle Scum?' Sam shouted up to us.

Geoff nodded. ‘Evidently so.'

‘Yay.' Sam disappeared inside, we could hear him shouting the news at Charlie.

The last leg of the trip, took us down such a well-known route. Out through Ely, along the river to the pub, a quick right turn into Mill Creek and once again, we were home.

For the last twenty minutes of the trip I'd felt physically sick. Here we were again, when we left to deliver
Happy Go Lucky
to her new owner I had never, for one minute dared to hope that I'd be back, we'd intended to buy a sea-going barge. But here we were. Shocked faces that we knew so well looked out at us from boat windows as we meandered past. Jude, in particular did a wonderful double-take then almost flattened herself against the window she was waving so hard.

A couple of people that we didn't know, then Lewis the grumpy electrician, Disco Steve and a wonderful gap where our new boat would just fit in like a foot in Cinderella's shoe.

Minerva
stuck her nose into the space as though she'd done it a hundred times before, then pulled her backside in snug and tight to the bank.

It was as though time had stood still, our little patch was overgrown and untended but the mooring posts that Geoff had sweated and sworn over were still there. The tyres that we'd pinched out of a skip were still dangling on heavy rope over the side of the mooring and even our steps were still where we'd left them.

Charlie leapt out of the boat, followed closely by her brother. ‘We're home, we're home,' she chanted and leapt from the gunwale onto the grass. It was beautifully choreographed, the overgrown grass covered a multitude of sins and when her feet touched ground level she found that it was merely long grass and disappeared up to the waist in the river.

Geoff leaned over the side as Charlie, scowling and dripping, soaked to the skin climbed out on to the bank. ‘I take it you forgot about that hole, it's the same one you fell into at least twice when we were last here.'

Charlie, muttering and shedding clothes as she went, stamped around to the front of the boat. Obviously intending to dry off and get changed just as she'd done the last time.

Geoff reeled out the electric cable and plugging ourselves back into the old electricity post, Geoff switched her over to land power.
Minerva
, suddenly given a blood transfusion, lit up like a fairground ride and as the clouds rolled in making it much darker than it had any right to be at four thirty in the afternoon, she looked very much like home.

I couldn't get the grin off my face. As neighbours and old friends emerged from boats to say hello, I tried to let go of any doubts or worries that I had been holding for the trip down. The next two years would be hard work but it was definitely going to be worth it.

Chapter Fourteen
Home at Last and Everything's Perfect?

W
E'D MANAGED TO TURN
up only two weeks before half term so the kids were quite happy to go back to their old schools, each knowing that they only had to suffer a short while before they'd be off on holiday again. Geoff was also happy, he began making long lists of things he had to do before winter set in and I waited for instructions.

The very first thing on our list was to put up temporary fencing so that Mortimer would have an enclosed space to rush about in. We spent the first week doing just that, it was only a set of metal posts and green heavy duty netting but Mort was daft enough that if it looked like a fence, it was obviously something he couldn't get through so he didn't even try, it worked quite well.

Knowing that we really wouldn't have long before the cold weather settled in for good, we purchased a wood shed and set about filling it as much as we could. We emptied the boat of all the bits and bobs that we had thought we might need for travelling and filled her up with stuff for just general living. However, our first real building job was to make Charlie a proper bedroom and get her some space of her own. It took Geoff about a weekend.

The back cabin was exceptionally classical, with a bed and a set of cupboards and drawers that miraculously turned into a table and another small bed, it was really ingenious. There was a tiny stove in one corner and the whole was painted in the ubiquitous roses and castles designs. It was like standing in a dolls house – it was unbelievable that whole families used to live in these conditions.

Charlie, although she appreciated the history, hated the whole thing on sight so Geoff took to removing large amounts of re-created history and using what was left to make a bedroom fit for a teenage girl.

As each piece of decorated wood clattered onto the bank I winced knowing that the purists among the boating crowd would surely be shaking their fists and howling with rage at such vandalism. But it couldn't be helped; no fourteen-year-old wanted to live in something that looked like Granny's cupboard.

By the end of the weekend he had created a bed, a wardrobe and a table, we had painted over all the (slightly faded) roses and castles and the whole thing was pristine white and smelt of paint rather than damp wood and oil.

Although originally very happy about the whole thing, when the time came to actually go to bed Charlie was more than a little reticent.

‘What if something gets me?' she asked in a slightly quivery voice. ‘I have to walk round the boat to get to you, will you hear me if I shout?'

Geoff gave her a hug, ‘I've thought of that,' he said, ‘just above your bed is a button.' He wheeled her toward the door of the boat. ‘Come on I'll show you, all you have to do is press it and a door bell will ring in here and one of us will be out like a shot.' He grabbed a torch and opened the front door, gesturing for Charlie to accompany him. ‘OK?'

Charlie looked at him dubiously. ‘Will you actually come if I press it, though?' She looked worried.

‘Absolutely,' I confirmed. ‘Ring the bell and we'll be there before you take your finger away.'

Frowning she gave a small nod and went out with Geoff. ‘Night, Mum,' she said as she left.

An hour later there was the sudden sharp buzz of a doorbell ringing.

Sighing, Geoff got to his feet. ‘I'll go,' he said.

Ten minutes later he was back. ‘She can't sleep and keeps hearing funny noises.'

I nodded vaguely, unwilling to take my eyes off the television programme I was watching. ‘Well, it's only to be expected, she must feel a little isolated down there.' I paused for a moment, remembering the conversations that we had had about the rear cabin. ‘She definitely wanted to sleep in there, didn't she?'

Geoff took a sip of tea and nodded. ‘Yep, said she needed some space for herself.'

‘Hmm,' I replied, draining my mug just as the buzzer sounded a second time, ‘I think this might actually take some getting used to for her.'

That evening Charlie rang the doorbell a total of seventeen times and it was well past two o'clock in the morning before she finally fell asleep. By that time Geoff was so tired he had finally given in and agreed to put in an intercom system.

Getting Charlie up for school the next morning was more than a little difficult, she had locked her door (just to stop ‘something' getting at her) and there was no way I could get into the back cabin to give her the shaking she so often required. At every threat there was a mumbled affirmation that she really was getting up and every time I shouted she just promised to come out then went back to sleep.

I couldn't get through the metal doors and there was no access cut between the main body of the boat and the back cabin as yet so there she stayed, safe and out of parental control. Finally I gave up and took Sam to school (he felt this was entirely unfair) leaving Geoff with strict instructions to find a way to get her out by the time I got back.

On my return I could see Geoff standing on the bank staring at the cabin with a cup of tea in his hand. ‘How's it going?' I enquired.

‘Badly,' he replied, ‘I've shouted and banged and even taken a hammer to the side of the boat, but there's been no reply.'

‘Really?' I frowned at the rear cabin. ‘Do you think she's OK?'

‘Yes.' Geoff scowled. ‘I think she's fine, I think she wanted a day off school, I think she's warm and comfortable and I think she's just ignoring us.'

I studied the back of the boat for a moment then, moving closer to my fuming husband, I whispered. ‘Do you think you could take out that porthole window?'

He opened his mouth to speak but I stopped him by putting a finger to my lips. At his frown I lifted the carrier bag I had brought with me from the car and opened it, allowing him to peer inside. ‘I made a little stop on the way home,' I whispered.

The grin that slid across Geoff's face was almost pure evil and he took a long look at the porthole that was one of the two windows to Charlie's bedroom. ‘Do you know,' he paused for another grin, ‘I think I probably can.'

‘Just loosen it off, quietly,' I whispered, ‘Then come in for a cup of tea, I want her nice and relaxed, I want her to think we've given up.'

Geoff nodded and tiptoed toward the boat taking a screwdriver out of his pocket as he went.

An hour later and we had finished our tea, washed up the breakfast things and had clattered around in the main body of the boat enough that Charlie should have been well asleep.

Geoff checked his watch. ‘Now?' he said.

Reaching into the Halford's bag, I took out the can and air-horn attachment I had picked up on the way home. ‘Yep, I don't think we'll wake anybody else up now, most normal people are up and about.'

Trying not to giggle, we tiptoed down the length of the boat, Mortimer gambolling at our heels obviously wondering what the hell was going on. Geoff gently pulled out the glass and gestured me forward.

I peered into the back cabin and sure enough, as I had expected, Charlie was fast asleep, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, the other thrown above her head.

Giving Geoff one last smile I tucked one ear into my shoulder and stuck a finger in the other then, sticking the horn through the open gap, I depressed the button on the can of compressed air it was attached to. The sound was even louder than I could have expected and Charlie's reaction so much more than anyone could have hoped for.

At the startling screeching sound she sat straight up in bed with a scream, then arms flailing she hit the floor with a thump, bed clothes and various books slid off the bed and landed on top of her, suddenly plunged into darkness, she panicked further and kicked her way out of the obstructions to stand all wide eyes and chaotic hair in her tiny cabin, she stared around, obviously wondering where the sound had come from.

Staggering over to the door, she flicked the bolt off and stared out into the morning sun. I slid along the side of the boat brought one hand around the back of the boat and hit the horn again. Charlie fell back into her cabin with yet another scream.

Convinced that she was now wide awake I stuck my head through her doorway. ‘Rise and shine, sweetie,' I said and gave her a smile, ‘it's time you were up and about.'

As I wandered back toward the front doors I realised it was quite depressing the amount of swear words that child knew and even more depressing that she was willing to use them, honestly where's the respect? But it was difficult to be cross while giggling with your husband.

About half an hour later Charlie emerged, red-eyed and angry in the living room, but before she could get her sense of injustice revved up and her list of excuses going she was read the riot act.

One, thou wilst not lock your parents out of your bedroom; two, thou wilst not ignore said parents and pretend to be getting up; three, thou wilst not grab a sneaky day off school by performing number two. It went on and on there were about ten points in total. Charlie ended up grounded and spluttering in fury.

She was told that if this happened again Geoff would take the lock off her door and she would be left to worry that anyone could get in at night, also the next time I had to wake her up it would be the horn attached to a hosepipe spitting freezing water.

Charlie stamped back to her cabin and although she didn't lock the door she refused to come out and we didn't see her again till tea time when hunger finally drove her, still sulking and petulant, back into the living room to be fed. The next morning she was up and dressed on time but still acidly silent.

The next day, as Geoff and I were sitting over a pile of paperwork trying to work out what the first job would be in the peace and quiet of a child-free boat, my mother rang.

‘Would you like to get rid of the kids for a week so you can get on?' she asked.

I think we may have caused permanent damage to her ears; we were so exuberant with our agreement. The plan was that Charlie and Sam would go with Mum and Dad over to France for the half-term holiday. Dad wanted to mow the lawn and get the house on the market and it seemed like a good time to have a last break before winter set in.

With this much time offered to us and with Geoff's interview for a new job on the Wednesday of half term, we decided to tackle the biggest job we had, a new kitchen.

The children were very much in favour of a half-term trip, so, loaded up with clothes, passports and other bits and pieces, we waved them all off early on Saturday morning and looked forward to a week of heavy building.

Geoff had already got all the wood and bits necessary for building a new kitchen but was unhappy with my plans. I wanted a ‘walk through' kitchen with the work surface on the river side coming out at 45 degrees which would match a decline of 45 degrees on the land side. This would give us as much work surface as possible and put the sink in a nice little unit of its own.

We had a nice round sink that would go in and we planned to move the cooker from the kitchen that was already on the boat (it couldn't really be called a kitchen it was a box with a cooker in it). so we had one week to re-line the walls, put in a new gas line, move the cooker and get the whole thing up and running.

I have to admit it would have been nice to relax a little and enjoy each other's company but with only a limited amount of time, we were up at six in the morning and worked through till midnight each night.

Geoff found the kitchen units particularly trying and by the end of the week could only actually mutter, ‘45 degrees' to any question he was asked. However he did a wonderful job and by the time the kids came back, we had a proper kitchen complete with herb rack and tea towel holder, it was lovely.

Geoff had taken one day off and had attended an interview for a maintenance electrician for a company in Cambridge. As we were waiting for the kids to return on the Friday, he got the long-awaited call, he was, thankfully, once again gainfully employed.

On the day the children were due back we had a call from my mother. ‘Hi there,' she chirped down the phone, ‘just making sure you were home, we'll be there in about half an hour.'

‘Oh OK. Did you all have a good time?' I mentally ran through all the things I could do in half an hour.

‘Well, most of us did,' Mum said and laughed, ‘but don't worry I'll tell you all about it when we get there.'

‘Right.' I wondered what had gone wrong, with my kids it really could have been anything. ‘We'll see you in a bit then.'

‘Make sure you have a very soft chair handy.' Mum laughed, then there was a click as she cut the call.

In less time than it took to drink a cup of coffee, I could hear Sam's voice wafting toward me on the wind. Remembering that both parents were slightly mobility-challenged at the moment, I grabbed a rather affronted dog and locked him down the other end of the boat. I had just put the kettle on when my youngest leapt into the boat.

‘Mum, MUM! Hi.' He leapt toward me and almost knocked me down with a huge hug. ‘I missed you but I had a great time.'

‘I missed you too, what do you think of the new kitchen?' Sam never noticed anything unless it was pointed out to him.

Sam ignored me and laughed. ‘Nanny and Granddad will be here in a minute, they're waiting for Charlie.' With that he rushed off with his bag to go and unpack and bury himself in a computer game. ‘The kitchen's nice,' his words diminished as he left.

‘Hi, Mum.' Charlie limped into the boat and giving me a quick hug made a great show of sitting, very carefully, on the sofa.

‘What happened to you?' I noticed the look of pain that spread across her face as she settled onto a cushion.

‘She's the only person in the world that has managed to break their bottom.' Mum stepped into the boat with a laugh, followed closely by my father.