Chapter 21

Monday morning. What is it about Mondays – even when you do a job you love, even when you often work weekends so you'd think Monday would lose any significance – there's still something about Monday. Jenni and Marty were up and showering at six-thirty. Why not make the most of the time you have together? Marty made sure he had all his gear packed as Jenni cooked breakfast, and they were on their way by seven thirty, at the dockside by just after eight, and Jenni was on her way back to Felixstowe by eight-thirty.

Emily Jane was passing through the lock by nine-thirty, Marty skippering, Terry as Mate and Anh as Third Hand. They were to pick up their party at Harwich Ha'penny Pier at mid-day.

As Jenni and Marty were having their breakfast, Amy was preparing Tom's. He needed to be at Orwell High by eight-twenty; the twins needed to be at Kingsfleet school by five to nine. Jessica was up and about; she would be taking Alison to Kingsfleet School, collecting Lucy and Andrew en route, then carrying on so she was in her office in Ipswich by nine-thirty. Dave was up and about too; he'd never been able to stay in bed once he'd been disturbed. Sitting in the kitchen, they heard the sound of scales, arpeggios and exercises from the lounge and then, Für Elise. Dave went into the lounge and at the end of the piece, Chrissie looked round.

"I'm afraid my repertoire is limited without music," she said matter-of-factly.

"Won't you come for breakfast?"

"I missed music more than food, you know," she commented, "and I didn't want to intrude on your family breakfast."

"Be sure, if ever we think you're intruding, we'll let you know. But you aren't."

Jessica departed with Alison (who made sure to tell Chrissie she could play her guitar whenever she wanted) and Dave sat with Chrissie as she ate breakfast, chatting about Felixstowe, and the Ferry, and their circle of friends – Amy (and now John) Jenni and Marty and Beth and James – and of course their offspring. He talked about sailing; his boat Eirene and how he used to live on board until he met Jenni and, through her, Jessica. About Amy's boat Serenity and Amy's first husband ... and of course Jenni's and Tom's 'love affair' with the old Thames Spritsail Barges. It was food for thought for her to realise that the crews of the barges spent little time at home during the sailing season; that in fact the barge was often 'home' to her crew.

Jenni arrived in due course and had a brief conference with Dave before departing with Chrissie. In Ipswich, they shopped for clothes; practical, every-day clothes, less practical clothes, both casual and formal. A pause for a snack mid morning, and more shopping for clothes and footwear. Lunch, during which Jenni received a call from Jessica with directions to a private medical practice later in the afternoon, then more shopping in 'Music World' in Queen Street.

A quiet word to the salesman produced several acoustic guitars. Despite Chrissie's protest that a cheap instrument would be fine, Jenni insisted (Dave's orders) that she try several and choose the one she was most comfortable with – Jenni's Visa card was hit for over three hundred pounds even before adding a case and sheet music. In the latter case, she was instructed, sternly, to choose music both for piano and guitar.

Leaving the shop, Chrissie cradled the guitar almost unbelieving of the turn-around in her fortunes; Jenni carried a large bag containing the sheet-music, both individual pieces and collections. They returned to Jenni's car and put their purchases away out of sight, sitting in the car, listening to the radio, waiting for the time for Chrissie's appointment.

Chrissie was very quiet.

Until, "Jenni."

"Yes?"

"Why? Why are you – not just you, but Amy and Jessica and Dave, even Alison. Why are you doing this for me?"

"Well ... it's a bit of a long story. Dave found me huddled on the saltings, oh, eight years ago, or so? With hypothermia. I nearly died. He picked me up and took me back to his boat where he was living, warmed me up, fed me, found me clothes. He probably saved my life. He adopted me, effectively. I asked him the same question. His answer was basically that helping people made him happy. Later, he admitted he was lonely and I'd made a difference to his life too. I learned from him, both that helping people was enjoyable, but also that doing so made relationships. If we can help you find a good life, that'll make us feel good, too, and you won't forget us – if only because you now know a few people who aren't just out to use you and throw you away."

"But ... you didn't need to spend a small fortune on a guitar for me! I could have used Alison's, and just the sheet music would have been great."

"Maybe ... but ... before I ran away from home, one of the few things that gave my life meaning was sailing, and coming here meant I was able to become a professional sailor. Think about what was important in your life before..."

"Mum and Dad ... and music. Yes, I see ... but even so..."

"Don't worry about it – enjoy it. Practice and play for us. Let us enjoy your talent and your joy in music."

"Okay..."

The medical check-up was comprehensive, long, uncomfortable and acutely embarrassing at times. The (female) doctor, who owed Jessica a favour, was as careful and considerate as she could be, so the experience was merely unpleasant.

At the end, "Are you allergic to penicillin, Chrissie? No? I'm going to give you a heavy dose of a broad-spectrum antibiotic – by injection – and a fortnight's oral doses. Meanwhile, we'll get results from all the samples I've taken and if you've got anything resistant to that, I'll call you back. The drug might make you feel queasy. Take it an hour or so after eating and it won't be so bad. Avoid intercourse until we're sure you're clear. Now, Chrissie, I'm sorry to embarrass you, but ... might you want to have intercourse in the near future?"

Chrissie blushed hotly, thinking of her reaction to Dave, thinking of Tom. "I ... I'm not sure, but I might."

"That's okay. I'll give you a prescription for birth-control. Start after the end of your next period. If the antibiotics upset you, or if you get any pain or itching or soreness, get Jessica to call me again. Don't cover anything up, okay? One other thing, Chrissie. If this were the Genito-Urinary clinic, you'd be getting grilled for the names of everyone you've had intercourse with. I'm not going to do that. But Jessica assures me that the police will be involved anyway. Will you promise me to co-operate with them? There's people out there that ... let's just say the world would be a better place if they weren't out there."

"Okay, doctor. I'll try."

That evening. Nothing would do but that Chrissie demonstrate her new guitar and play some of the piano music they'd bought earlier. She did persuade Alison to fetch her instrument and they played a couple of simple duets.

She slept well.

Tuesday morning, Jessica didn't go in to work in Ipswich, she stayed to be with Chrissie when two plain-clothed detectives, a man and a woman, came to question her. There were some grim faces all round as she told her story. They left with a signed, comprehensive statement.

"Well done, sweetheart," Jessica praised Chrissie. "It's time for some comfort food, I think. The Ferry Café – fish and chips, or a burger – or we can call for pizza, if you like?"

"Fish and chips sounds great, thanks."

I've said it before and I'll say it again, very few places do better fish and chips than the Ferry Café. Okay, there are places with level tables and white table-cloths and cutlery that matches, but if your only interest is in the quality of the food you'd have to go a long way to do better.

They might have lingered over the meal and perhaps wandered round the boat yard or something, but Jessica received a call from Social Services so they returned to the house to await a representative from that department.

When the door-bell rang, Dave found a familiar figure waiting. "Mrs. Jenson, as I live and breathe! It's good to see you again!"