Chapter 6

Saturday

None of Serendipity's crew slept through the night. CC lay for some time worrying about the reaction of his parents – and the rest of his family, in fact – when he announced he intended to marry Nadiya. Not that he had any doubt whatsoever that marrying her was the right thing for him. For Nadiya too, he felt sure.

Nadiya too, lay awake for some time, feeling CC's body close, listening to his steady breathing. She wanted to be his ... but was it right to marry him and cause a rift in his family? And her University course ... assuming she achieved good enough grades. UEA didn't offer Russian as a course. Her first choice was Cambridge. CC's Articles position was in Norwich. Not commuting distance. And the degree was a four year course. Would she have to study by distance learning? Or give up on University and just get a job?

Denise lay thinking about the holiday that was nearly over, knowing that she, too, had caught the sailing bug. But mostly, she glowed with the knowledge she had found her place; her soul-mate, her future, her happiness.

Joe was probably the most settled of all of them, but he was also the oldest and needed to relieve himself in the small hours. Returning to the fore-cabin and sliding carefully into bed with his new wife, he, too, lay awake for a while. Still incredulous that Denise loved him, wanted to be with him, shared his joy in the sea. The lapping of the river against the hull, the tapping of the halyards on the alloy mast, the call of an owl, the yelp of a fox ... normal, everyday sounds on board a yacht at anchor.

Even so, CC was up and about in time for the early inshore forecast, after which he decided to switch the head-sail for the small number three sail. If they were, as planned, going to head up the Blackwater to Maldon, it would mean beating – tacking upwind in short tacks – the seven miles to Osea, then again past Heybridge, even shorter tacks, plus some tricky manoeuvring in the winding channel before achieving the berth at the quay. The wind was forecast to be a fresh breeze – force five, or seventeen to twenty-one knots – from the south-west. Serendipity would handle better – 'point' higher, that is, sail closer to the wind and require fewer tacks – with the smaller head-sail. When he was satisfied, he went below and found Nadiya had lit the small oil-fired heater in the saloon, a large billy-can of water on it to warm up for washing. She was in the process of cooking breakfast and the kettle was singing. She looked round, frowning slightly, but smiled when she saw him. CC kissed her neck and she shivered.

"You make me feel so loved..." she said quietly, "but ... I'm worried about your family."

"You are loved. I love you, and so do many others. My family ... must either accept you, or I must leave them ... you're too important to me. But they'll come round eventually." It would have been better had he sounded more certain of the last.

In the fore-cabin, Joe had surfaced when he heard CC's footsteps on the deck above. He was unwilling to stir, though, and just enjoyed the feel of Denise's body in his arms, resting against him. He was unable to resist brushing the side of her breast, the only part that wasn't pressed against his chest, with his thumb. She hummed contentedly in her throat and wriggled against him, but was obviously not yet awake. His hand gently followed the curve of her body until it came to rest on her hip. Her eyes flickered open briefly, then closed again.

"Mmm. Hello, darling..." said sleepily. "Do we need to get up?"

"Not yet." He groped for, and found, his watch. "Seven-thirty. Couple of hours, I think, before we'll need to be sailing."

"Good. If I go to the toilet ... I mean, the head ... will you still be here when I come back?"

"I probably need to go, too."

"As long as you come back here." She clambered over him, letting some chilly morning air under the duvet, wrapped a thick terry dressing-gown (actually Joe's) round herself, and left the cabin. On her return, she relinquished the garment to Joe and slid, shivering, back under the duvet. "Hurry."

Well, he did have considerable incentive to do so, quite apart from the chill air. When he slid back into bed, they clung together, each enjoying the pressure of the other's body.

"When we get home..." Denise began quietly.

"Time for hot baths."

"Yes. But after that ... I want to dance for you."

"I'd like that. But let's not hurry back."

"Oh, no. This afternoon we can have a look round at boats for sale, don't you think?"

"Good idea. Perhaps CC might point us in the right direction."

She wriggled against him. Something stirred. "Oh, good. You're not tired of me yet, then."

"Never."

From there, things progressed most satisfactorily for both. Of course, it meant they didn't emerge into the saloon until after eight-thirty. A patter of rain could be heard on the deck-head.

"Good morning," CC greeted them as Nadiya disengaged from his arms and went to the galley.

"Full English?" she asked.

"Yes please," Joe answered promptly.

"Um ... yes, please," Denise was a little slower. "I can't get used to how much I need to eat doing this. It's better than a fad diet, that's for sure."

"Not that you need to lose any weight," Joe put in. "I like you just the way you are." He squeezed her waist. "In fact, a pound or two more wouldn't come amiss."

"Huh!" But she repented, "You're sweet. I know I'm in decent shape, But that's because I'm usually careful."

They settled at the saloon table, as the smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon filled the cabin. "Wet day, off and on," CC commented, "as you can hear. And with the wind in the south-west, it's a beat for more than half the way. I suggest up-anchor about nine-thirty. We won't get past Heybridge, let alone into Maldon, before mid-day. Well, maybe eleven-thirty. But high water at Maldon is twelve-forty-five, more or less. The barges get in and out, but they draw maybe three feet unladen, and use their engines. Even then there's not much more than two hours they can do it. I'm assuming you don't want to be lazy and just motor?"

Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Denise got in first. "Definitely not, if it can be avoided. You're the skipper, though, so it's your discretion."

"Very good. In which case, you can take the helm. Unless you want to try heaving the lead?"

"I would, actually."

"Okay. But to start off ... we're tide-rode, meaning Serendipity is pointing into the rising tide. The wind is in the south-west, so is abaft the beam. Makes hoisting the main-sail difficult. How would you deal with that?"

Denise frowned, thinking. It was clearly a test question. After a few moments, "Head-sail unfurled to give some drive, get the anchor up, head across the river while you and Joe get the other sails up."

"Good enough. You have the helm."

"But..."

"You'll be fine," Joe's voice was reassuring, with a hint of humour. "We won't let you wreck the ship."

It worked quite well. With Serendipity managing a broad reach under staysail alone, Nadiya got the mizzen up and drawing, so they could head closer to the wind. Before reaching the other side of the fairway – nearly a mile across at that point – they had all sail set and the boat was fully under control. The first tack after that was over a mile and a half, the second only half a mile, but it got them to the old power station baffle.