Water Gypsies (20 page)

She turned on her side and tried to sleep, dreading the next morning.

Twenty

‘I say – hello? Anyone up in there? Only we thought you might like a cup of tea.’

The voice came to Maryann in the depths of sleep and she forced her eyes open. Memory flooded in. That voice – of course – those blasted women! The clock by her head said twenty-past six – she was the one who’d overslept! Cursing ripely, she scrambled over the twins to the door, which opened onto a cold, overcast morning.

Sylvia was outside, looking neat and fresh with her hair pinned back, and she held out a steaming cup.

‘
So
sorry to wake you.’ Sylvia seemed almost to cringe with apology as she spoke. ‘I’ve put a spoonful of sugar in-I do hope that’s all right?’

Cheeks burning with embarrassment Maryann leaned over to take the tea, trying to hold the torn neck of her nightdress together: it had a rip in the hem too. Her hair was all over the place, she hadn’t lit the stove on the
Esther Jane
yet – and these two clowns had to be up with the lark, sod them!

‘Ta. Good of you,’ she said, barely able to hide her fury. ‘We’re nearly ready.’

‘Good-oh. Well – I must let you get on. You must have an awful lot to do.’ Sylvia moved away, folding her arms, shoulders hunched, as if trying to minimize her presence. Maryann was taken aback at how cowed the woman seemed by her curt response. She got halfway along the
Theodore,
but then, to Maryann’s further irritation, turned and came back.

‘Er, Maryann, Dot and I brought our rations with us – and Dot’s got some extra as well. Of course it makes most sense to combine everything – so how about us doing breakfast for everyone this morning? Dot’s already made a start…’

‘I can manage, you know,’ Maryann snapped. She could feel herself frowning and knew she must seem very hostile. But she felt very nervous and under pressure – it was unbearable having these strangers coming and taking over her life! But then Joley pushed passed her and poked his nose out through the door, saying, ‘Umm! I can smell bacon – is that for us?’

Forced to swallow her pride Maryann said more politely, ‘All right, then – you do it for today. Thanks.’

When the breakfast was ready, Sylvia started carrying plates of it along to them until Maryann ordered the children out to go and collect it.

‘We don’t need you waiting on us,’ she said.

‘Oh, it’s quite all right!’ Sylvia laughed. ‘You know how it is. One gets used to it.’

Maryann didn’t know how it was, but was puzzled by how cringingly eager Sylvia was to please her.

They all felt well set up after a share of crispy bacon, with wedges of bread and cups of sweet tea. Sylvia and Dot stood outside to finish drinking their tea, and Maryann peered uneasily at them out through the doorway, taking a good look at her new companions in the unsparing morning light, wishing she could examine them even more closely without them seeing. The children kept looking and whispering as well and she had to shush them. She had taken in, this morning, that Sylvia was older than she had supposed the night before. Her thin, oval face looked surprisingly tired and worn, even though she was already made up, with scarlet lipstick to match the wool scarf she was wearing. She had on a pair of workmanlike blue slacks and a loose-sleeved brown jacket. In the neck of this Maryann could just see the neck of a green woolly with the scarf tied round it. She held her tea cupped in both hands to warm them, her long neck bent forwards to sip. She looked to Maryann like a slender, timid deer.

Dot, however, was far more sturdily built – more of an ox, with her plump face, thick arms and chunky thighs encased in brown corduroy trousers. Over these she had on a tweed jacket, and a navy beret perched sidelong on her head. Maryann guessed that Sylvia must be in her late twenties, but with Dot it was very hard to tell. The two women were talking in low voices; every so often Maryann saw them look over towards the open doors of the
Esther Jane
and she tried to pretend she wasn’t watching them. What were they talking about? she wondered, full of dread. What
did
women like that talk about?

Then she heard Dot’s hockey captain voice cry, I say – look at those simply marvellous cats! Do they live aboard, d’you suppose?’

Jenny and Spots were climbing along the cabin of the
Theodore.
The Bartholomew children listened wide-eyed as Dot made cooing, cajoling noises to the cats.

‘Oh, aren’t you a
darling!’
they heard. Joley and Ezra started giggling and set Ada and Esther off as well.

‘Are those ladies living with us now?’ Sally asked, bemused.

‘Only for a bit,’ Maryann said irritably, piling their few crocks in the dipper for washing, with more force than was necessary. She was very anxious about the day ahead. She was skipper of both the boats now, with those two green beginners. She’d only worked with Joel and Bobby and was full of worry that she’d make a mess of it all. What she dreaded most was the thought of all the other boaters watching what was happening to the
Esther Jane
– one of the old, well-known Number One boats. She knew what to do, really, but she was afraid her nervousness would make her do something wrong – and who knew if those two painted birds out there really knew anything about working boats? She was damned if she’d let them make a fool of her and let Joel down. That was how she saw it – she had to do this for him.

‘I thought we’d start you off gentle like,’ Mr Veater told her when she went to the office. ‘Then I’ll see about a trip to Oxford.’ Seeing Maryann’s furrowed brow, the agitated way she was rubbing her hands together, he added, ‘They’ll soon cotton on – don’t you worry.’

Outside, her breath streamed white from her and the smoke from the boats’ chimneys hung in long, slowly dispersing banners in the still air. One of the other boatwomen accosted her.

‘Who’re those two you’ve got on board with you then, Maryann?’ She eyed the Bartholomews’ pair, beside which Sylvia and Dot were waiting for her with the eagerness of newly trained dogs.

‘Volunteers,’ Maryann told her.

‘Blimey.’ The woman peered at them. ‘My eyes aren’t so strong now, but if it weren’t for that one’s hair I’d’ve said they were chaps.’

Maryann knew the news would spread round the boaters of Sutton Stop at a fast pace. In the seconds it took her to get back to her own pair again, she decided that the only thing was just to get through this period.

After all,
she thought,
they’ll be on their boat and we’ll be on ours. I shan’t have to have too much to do with them, shall I? But, Joel, you’d better get right soon and come back. I can’t stand the thought of working with these two!

She knew the women were watching her as she walked towards them and folded her arms to protect herself, as if their eyes were scraping her skin. She wondered how she looked in her frayed cardi, with scuffed old boots. They were waiting for her, all eager like new Girl Guides.

‘Morning!’ they both chimed, although Sylvia had already seen her once.

‘Are we nearly ready for the off?’ Dot asked.

‘Right.’ Once again, Maryann heard her voice come out brusquely. ‘Let’s get going. We’re going up Bed-worth for a load for the Light.’

Sylvia and Dot looked at each other in bafflement.

Maryann nodded over towards Longford Power Station, only a quarter of a mile behind them, covered, as usual in a pall of cloud.‘Fuel for that.’ She went to climb aboard the
Esther Jane
ready to start the engine. ‘It’s a day’s trip. You steered a butty before?’

‘Oh
yes,
of course,’ Sylvia said eagerly. ‘We’ve done all our training trips you know. Kit taught us ever such a lot – really threw us in at the deep end.’

Maryann looked up.‘Who’s Kit?’

‘Oh,
sorry.
Kit Gayford – our trainer. We thought everyone knew Kit by now! She trains most of the female volunteers on the Grand Union. She’s absolutely marvellous. Don’t worry, Maryann. We shan’t let you down. We’ll do our very best.’

As the engine of the
Esther Jane
began to turn over, breaking into the morning peace, Maryann thought grumpily that this was yet another instance in the past twenty-fours of someone telling her not to worry.

The first part of the trip passed without a hitch. There were no locks on this stretch and once Maryann was at the tiller she felt better. Of course she could manage! She’d been a boatwoman long enough now, hadn’t she? Joley took the tiller, while she ducked inside to do odd jobs and deal with Ada and Esther, and her son’s quiet confidence steadied her and made her proud. The day was overcast and they passed through a ghostly landscape along that part of the cut, a wasteground of former coal tips and abandoned mine shafts. In one spot a group of gypsies had set up camp with their sturdy ponies and coloured caravans, scrawny dogs barking at the boats as they chugged past. The cut was busy with joeys coming and going, and pairs of ‘Joshers’ and Barlow boats. A family from another S. E. Barlow boat greeted her with waves and the usual ‘How do’s?’ She saw their amazed expressions when they caught sight of the butty with Sylvia at the tiller, now wearing a red and white headscarf, and Dot perched on the gunwale sporting her navy beret.

‘Look at their faces!’ Maryann laughed to Joley. ‘They weren’t expecting that, were they?’

They reached the Bedworth arm and queued for loading. The day had become even more heavily overcast.

During the wait, Maryann fed the children, and she was outside emptying wash water over the side when she saw Sylvia coming towards her and she tensed. Now what did they want? She kept trying to put those two back there out of her mind – pretend they weren’t there! Even if she had to suffer working with them, it didn’t mean she wanted anything else to do with them. Bucket in hand, she waited.

‘We wondered how long we’re likely to be here?’ Sylvia looked up at her, giving a tight smile. Maryann saw that she had pale blue eyes. She had a naturally vulnerable expression, which softened Maryann’s feelings a fraction.

‘Shouldn’t be long.’ Maryann nodded at the pair ahead of them. ‘There’s only them in front of us.’

‘Only, Dot and I have made some cocoa and we wondered if you’d like some?’

‘No, ta. We’ve just had our dinner.’

The smile faded in Sylvia’s eyes. She hugged herself as if cold and stood, uncertain, by the boat. For a moment Maryann thought she was going to say something else, but she turned away. The odd thing was, Maryann thought, she looked almost nervous. Surely not about speaking to her? After all, they were the ones with lah-di-dah accents and their clothes weren’t running to holes like hers. What had they got to be flaming nervous about?

The afternoon did not go well. They were heavily laden and low in the water, though they hadn’t stopped to sheet up the boats: even though the sky was heavy, no rain had fallen yet. Maryann decided to risk it, since they’d deliver at the Coventry Light that afternoon.

By the time they’d reached Sutton Stop again, it had grown colder and a bitter wind was blowing. Ada and Esther had been perched up on the cabin roof, and Maryann moved them inside for warmth.

I hope it’s not going to go and rain now,
she thought, glowering at the sky. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt in such a thoroughly out-of-sorts bad temper with everything. All afternoon she’d been acutely aware of the butty behind. She had to glance back every so often to make sure they were following without any hitches. Otherwise she faced ahead, glad of the long snubber between the boats, but still prickling with awareness of the two women at the tiller which for so long had been hers. All the time she felt this inner tension, and that the two of them were watching her from behind.

Sutton Stop was the meeting place of the Coventry and Oxford cuts and the power station was south of the junction on the Oxford. The two waterways met at an angle, which meant taking the boats round two right-angled bends to reach the stop lock dividing the two.

As they approached the bridge before the junction, Maryann slowed to a crawl, allowing the
Theodore
to catch up a bit. She released the snubber and handed it to Joley.

‘Get off at the bridge and tell them to pull in and wait while we get round. Then get back and help me. Sally, go forward and get ready to throw him the line!’

Joley leapt off under the bridge-hole and ran back to the
Theodore.
Maryann heard him calling out instructions to the two women.

He knows more than the pair of you put together,
she thought. She saw the
Theodore
begin to veer into the bank and Joley running back to join her.

She faced the busy junction nervously, even though she and Joel had been back and forth through it endless times. Sally threw the cotton line attached to the small mast over to her brother and he looped it round the bollard by the iron bridge, playing it round as Maryann brought the boat under. As she kept the engine ticking steadily ahead, the stern swung round nicely, just as required. She smiled grimly for a second. Thank God for that. When they were safely round both bends, she tied up and told Sally to mind the younger ones.

She ran round and over the bridge with Joley, expecting to find the women waiting with the
Theodore
tied up as instructed. Instead of which, by the time she got down to the bank, she found Dot bow-hauling the butty along, almost at the bridge. Dot, who was leaning into the job like a dray horse, had got the butty moving at quite a pace.

‘What the hell’s she playing at!’ Maryann cried. ‘She’s never going to make the turn like that – how does she think she’s going to stop!’

Waving her arms she shouted, ‘Stop pulling, you bloody fool! What’re you doing?
Slow down!
’

It was already too late. On a monkey boat with an engine, the only way to brake it was to throw the engine into reverse. On a butty with no engine, Sylvia, holding the
Theodore
’s tiller, could only watch helplessly, hauling on it to try and turn the boat in time to make the turn.