Chapter 5

Once again, I slept poorly, rose early, and sat with coffee and cereal watching small birds on feeders I’d placed near the window; reed buntings, titmice and sparrows. That way I also could see men arrive for work on the house. I determined to call in later in the morning to see how they were getting on. I carried a mug of coffee down to the edge of the river – well, mud, really. Sea Scout, anchored a few yards out, was clearly firmly on the bottom. A few waders were poking around some distance from me, and the water was receding. Sitting on the saltings on the edge of my property, I just absorbed the serenity. I might have been there an hour when I heard the gate and a van engine indicating the arrival of the workmen, so I finished my coffee.

A little stiffly, I got to my feet with my empty mug in hand, and walked to the house. The senior electrician saw me coming and met me at the door.

“Missus Hancock! How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about you?”

“I’m fine and so is my mate there. We should be done today. You’re decorating next?”

“That’s the idea. Get that done before I install appliances. They’re all waiting in store.”

“Have you got a decorator?”

“No. I thought I’d do it myself. Sort of making it my own.”

“Good enough. As I say, barring problems, we’ll be done today, and there shouldn’t be any problems. The battery bank is in the sealed bunker under the house, along with the inverter...” I nodded, understanding, “so you won’t be bothered by the hum. The panels are all connected and the batteries are charged. In fact you’ve been feeding juice to the grid for the last week. The little turbine’s been on order for a month. Sorry about that; it should have been here a week ago. But the mast is there and all the wiring. It’ll just take a few hours to mount it and connect it. Lights are working and the alarm system.”

“Thanks! I’ll be glad to be in and settled.”

“I’m sure! But I think you’ll be happy with it.”

I nodded, smiled, and left. Heading back to that little touring caravan, a movement caught my eye – someone opening the gate. Surely not more workmen? I stopped and turned to face the newcomer, who drove a faded blue Beetle through, got out and closed the gate, then drove over to the van, got out and came to me.

“Norma...”

“Rusty...” We stood, looking at each other for an eternal moment.

He took a deep breath. “I was sorry to leave you in the lurch...”

“You didn’t. Jenni made sure I had an adequate substitute. Simon and I had an enjoyable cruise.”

“So I understand. But I was enjoying our sailing and didn’t really want to leave.” He sighed. “Would you, perhaps, like to have dinner with me this evening?”

There was a curious sensation in my mid-section and tingles elsewhere. A smile formed on my face without any conscious volition. “I think I’d like that.”

“Italian? Chinese? Indian?”

“Indian. I haven’t had a curry for ages.”

“Pick you up about six? Seven?”

“Are you busy for the rest of the day?”

“Not at all. Why?”

“I’d appreciate some company, if you’re willing?”

“Sure! Perhaps I could get a look at your new house?”

“Well, if we won’t bother the electricians, why not. I’ll check to make sure we won’t be in the way.” I don’t think I was aware of taking his hand to walk back to the house. There, I was cheerfully reassured I wouldn’t cause them any problems, and I showed Rusty round the place, starting with the lounge, the upper floor, that is, with the view across the river, and the small toilet at the north end. I opened the trap door, pulled the ladder down, and we peered into the roof-space, floored and insulated, but clearly impractical for living purposes.

“Useful storage, though,” Rusty commented. “And easy access to that water header tank.”

“Yes – I’ll have to make sure I don’t block the way to that. It’s necessary to provide some pressure for a shower downstairs. It’s fed from rainwater – there’s a serious filter on that – as well as from the mains supply.”

“You’re pretty independent, then?”

“With care, yes. If I need heat, there’s a multi-fuel stove there, which can heat water as well as the room. The solar and wind-powered electric isn’t enough for twenty-four-seven use with everything in use, but with care, yes.” I led the way downstairs to the two bedrooms, the master bedroom with north-east and south-east outlook and small ensuite bathroom, the second bedroom looking north-east, again, with its own bathroom. Behind, the kitchen, a third toilet, and storage. ‘Dirty’ storage for wood and solid fuel, ‘clean’ for non-perishables with freezer and refrigerator, and a cool larder.

“Comprehensive,” Rusty commented.

“Fairly,” I agreed. “there was a possibility of a small study, but I felt that was unnecessary. I’ll have bookshelves and a computer desk upstairs, along with entertainment facilities. But I anticipate looking out over the river, rather than sitting glued to the t/v or computer.”

He nodded. “Indeed.”

“But I will have a satellite feed as well as a hard-wired telephone.”

He was shaking his head and smiling. “Covering all bases.”

“Exactly.” We left the electricians to get on, and before we left, at ground level, I showed Rusty the battery enclosure with its sealed, locked, access hatch. “So there you have it. About as independent as one can be without being ‘off-grid’ completely.”

“Very impressive.” He hesitated. “Would you like to have a tour of Kitty? She’s moored at the Hythe Quay, awaiting a new skipper.”

“Why not? Give me a ride in the VeeDub?”

He laughed. “F’sure! If that’s what turns you on?”

I shook my head, but I was smiling too. “Not exactly. I’m interested in old vehicles, but leave it here and walk along the coast path, we’d either have to come back here for your car, or walk back much later, in the dark, along that muddy path. Of course, we could take the Moggy.”

“No, I’m fine with taking my Beetle.”

He followed me to the van. “How dressy do I need to be?”

“Not much, especially if we’re looking round Kitty. You could take a change of things, if you like, but Curry Nights isn’t exactly a dressy place.”

I did, in fact put a change of clothes in a bag – a dress, rather than jeans and t-shirt, and shoes rather than trainers – and went to open the gate while he started the Beetle.

As ‘Crew’, Rusty was able to park on the quay, a valuable privilege, and we crossed ’Cabby” and ’Xylonite’ to reach Kitty.

Kitty is a bowsprit spritsail barge, built of wood. The bowsprit can be lifted for safety in dock and to make a little more room. Built in 1895, she is listed as a ‘Historic Vessel’. From the point of view of sailing, the main difference is in the bowsprit, allowing a larger sail area. At least, I think that was what he was saying.

We looked into the fo’c’sle and the master cabin as well as the berths for passengers, and ended up with mugs of tea in the saloon.

Whilst sailing Sea Scout, we’d sat comfortably in the cabin with little need to talk, whether eating, reading, or playing cards or chess. But this time, the silence was not comfortable. Rusty was... edgy... I suppose is the best description.

“Spit it out, Rusty,” I suggested, gently.

He sighed. “Norma, you fascinate me.” He spoke quietly, with his head down, but I had no trouble hearing him. Then he looked up at me. “If we were younger, I’d say I wanted to date you...”

“I’m quite a lot older than you,” I pointed out. “Forty-six, next birthday.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care. Actually, I’m thirty-one, so the difference is not so enormous. But you fascinate me. I cannot get you out of my head. You are beautiful. Intelligent. Active. Especially, I can sit with you and just ... be.”

Beautiful? Me? I stared at him.

“Don’t look so sceptical,” he smiled, “just accept that I like you and enjoy your company.”

“I am overweight.”

“No, you are not. Overweight is a modern obsession. F’sure there are many people these days who are unhealthily fat, but you, you are a healthy woman.”

Oh, Rusty, what are you doing to me? No, I didn’t say that. But I was getting tingles which were hard to ignore in lower parts of my anatomy. “I ... I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled. “Well, I invited you to dinner, but right now it’s lunch time. I’m pretty sure we’ve got the makings of a decent salad in the galley, if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested.”

We put together a meal, with a green salad, coleslaw, potato salad, and kippers. Sitting in the saloon and eating, we were half-way through our meal when we had a visitor. A slim, spectacularly platinum blonde woman entered.

“Hello, Skipper,” Rusty stood and greeted her warmly.

“Hello Rusty! Congratulations on your certificate.”

I laid my eating irons on my plate and turned in my seat to look at her.

“Norma, this is Cherry Thornton, another Barge-Master. Cherry, meet Norma Hancock. She’s now the owner of that site next to Northey Island where the new house is going up. Actually, nearly finished.”

“Happy to meet you, Norma. Are you a sailor, too?”

“Getting that way. I sailed dinghies for years, but I inherited a keel-boat, Sea Scout, and I’ve been learning my way around her. With help from Rusty, here, and Simon Townsend.”

“Very good! What about barges?”

“Just a couple of cruises as a passenger.”

“You need to have a couple of outings as a Third Hand.”

That did make me think. After a moment, I said, “Marty Peters suggested I think about a cruise on Emily Jane as an assistant teacher. I suppose some experience as a crew might be useful.”

Cherry looked at Rusty. “You’ve got ... what’s ‘er name? As mate for the next cruise?”

“Brenda. Brenda Wesley. She was with Alf before his accident. Experienced.”

“Well...”

“Norma, we’re going out again Thursday, if you’re interested. It’s a mixed bunch of tourists for six days, back here Tuesday.”

“Oh.” Pause, “How does that work?”

“You turn up with your dunnage a couple of hours before sailing. Lend a hand getting things ready. When we get under way, obey orders. You get fed, you get taught. You don’t get paid.”

I thought, and, I suppose, frowned while I was doing it.

Cherry laughed; it was actually more of a giggle. “Relax! It’s just an experience. If you like it, it’s a way into the world of Thames Sailing Barges. For that matter, it’s a pathway into heritage sailing, if that’s your thing. If you don’t like it, there’s no bones broken and you don’t have to ever do it again.”

I shook my head, smiling. “Oh, it’s not a big deal for me. After all, there’s not a lot going on in my life right now.” Really, Norma? Is that true? Be honest with yourself. Certainly, there’s not much holding you back in a practical sort of way, only your emotions. Or ... self image, perhaps? “Okay. Why not? What time on board, and what do I need?”

Rusty smiled. “On board before fourteen hundred with work clothes for a week and waterproofs. Your own life-jacket if you don’t want to use these here. Other than that, mobile phone, iPad, Kindle, book, anything in that line you want to bring. There’s charging facilities for personal electronics. A pocket torch, perhaps.”

For the next few hours, I listened to tales of barge life; humorous incidents, near disasters, groundings on mud, characters among the passengers and, of course, personalities among the crews.

About five ... seventeen hundred ... Cherry left. Rusty looked at me speculatively. “Don’t get the wrong idea, but if you’d like a shower before you change for dinner, we can take your things up to my flat. It’s on the way, anyway.”

Decision. “Okay.” Okay, perhaps the decision was made lower in my body than my skull.

It was a nice flat. Small, yes, but well laid out, and well looked-after. He ushered me in and I stood in the lounge looking around. Books. Music – compact discs and vinyl LPs, a music centre – small t/v. An eclectic mix of furniture styles, obviously chosen for comfort rather than any thought of ‘matching’.