Chapter 24

It's strange how different stresses affect different people; one might be excused for expecting Chrissie to not wish to perform in public. Certainly it was not an easy thing for her, but she knew that once she was immersed in the music everything else would be secondary. As will be seen, she's certainly not completely 'right' yet...

Chrissie, with Dave and Alison, made their way to SB Thistle alongside the quay, where a red-headed man was sawing away at a fiddle, accompanying a wrinkled, bearded and bent man who was singing sea-songs with great enthusiasm in a surprisingly resonant voice, the crowd joining in the 'chorus' lines. He finished with 'Leave her, Johnny..." - by the last verse, Chrissie was singing along;

"Now I thought I heard the Old Man say,
Leave her, Johnny, Leave her!
One more good heave an' then belay.
An it's time for us to leave her!"

He raised his eyebrows in appreciation as her clear voice soared; seeing the guitar case, he smiled and beckoned to her. She nervously stepped across the gap to the deck, followed by Dave and Alison. As he finished his song, he raised his voice;

"Now, folks, there's a treat in store! Eric tells me there's a lassie with a wonderful voice and I've just heard it and he's right, so here she is!"

Blushing, Chrissie extracted the guitar, checked the tuning carefully, perched on the hatch-cover and began to sing;

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
For once she was a true love of mine.

Dear, when thou has finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For thou then art a true love of mine."

The crowd hushed to hear her and the applause as she ended was tremendous; she followed 'Parsley, sage' with 'I know where I'm going'. Then on a whim, began the Manchester Rambler -

"I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler, from Manchester way,

I get all my pleasure the hard moorland way.

I may be a wage-slave on Monday,

but I am a free man on Sunday..."

A few in the crowd recognised the song and began joining in the chorus quietly and by the end most people had picked it up. At the end a voice called out,

"All around my hat!"

She looked at Dave – was she appealing to him? He smiled and nodded at her and so she sang.

"All around my hat, I will wear the green willow..."

Again the crowd joined in the chorus. Chrissie was struck by the courtesy; her voice was not overwhelmed by the other voices. At the end she stood and bowed, pointing to her throat and stepped ashore to more applause. Many there spoke to her, as she passed, in appreciation – she blushed in embarrassment, holding her precious guitar to her chest; Dave carried the case.

Tom was sort of happy; he was a crewman on board a working sailing barge and Jenni, who he liked a lot, was the skipper. The Mate was an older man called Josh and they got along fine. He was doing something he loved, that gave meaning to his life ... but ... although he'd only been away from Felixstowe four days, he was missing Chrissie. She was a part of his life ... maybe ... as important as sailing? Two weeks to go before Amy's wedding to John. Two weeks before he'd see Chrissie again.

The punters had had a good day's sailing, with an excellent lunch, a selection of alcoholic beverages and a very nice tea and supper – all prepared by a cook employed for the purpose, not the crew, not the party. Reminder was on her way back up river under sail as dusk gathered and the passengers got very quiet. They passed Osea Island, and as they approached Northey they were passed by Hydrogen, under power. Tom sniffed. There was no way Hydrogen would have caught Reminder under sail alone!

Jenni called to him and handed over the wheel. "Take over for a bit, Tom. When we get to the quay, there's something I want you to do, okay? Josh and I will put Reminder to bed. We'll all have tomorrow off, then we're doing day-sails with Thistle Tuesday and Wednesday." She left him to it and went to talk to Josh. One or two passengers looked at him with ... was it admiration, envy ... or maybe anxiety?

Jenni returned as they were passing Heybridge. "Right, Tom. I'd really like to berth under sail, but quite honestly, with the wind we've got I'd have to resort to the anchor to turn in the space available. I, for one, am tired and want to go to bed, so we'll dock under power. We'll brail up the main as we pass Brithnoth, then if you'll go aloft to stow the tops'l, I'd be grateful. When we're moored, I want you to go ashore and walk along to the Queen's Head. There's a yacht there, a ketch, belonging to a friend of mine, moored stern-to. The message is they're invited here for cocoa or whatever."

Tom wasn't stupid and realised there was something Jenni was covering up, but... 'if she wanted me to know, she'd tell me'.

They turned in the river and moored neatly, in front of Hydrogen which had just about finished discharging the forty or so punters from her day-sail. As soon as Reminder was secure, Jenni shooed Tom off. He was about to step over onto the deck of Wivenhoe when he was stopped by one of the cruise party, who handed him an envelope.

"Tom, we've been watching you. You've worked very hard, been polite and helpful and we've all appreciated what you've done for us. Now the Skipper tells me that Third Hands don't get paid, they're just doing the job because they love it and to learn, but we wanted to give you something to show how grateful we are."

Tom accepted the envelope; "Th ... anks ... Mr. Jenkinson. Thank you very much."

"Off you go, I know you have something to attend to," the man smiled.

There was something familiar about the yacht. He couldn't see the name, though.

"Ahoy?"

"Tom?" He saw a figure stand in the cockpit.

"Chrissie!" He stepped onto the plank and seconds later she was in his arms. "I'm supposed to..."

"Hush! You were supposed to come and find me. Just a minute, though," she turned and spoke into the saloon. "Jessica, Dave ... Tom's here."

Jessica and Dave emerged. "We'll slip along and see Jenni," Dave said. "I expect we'll be back about eleven ... Jessica has to get up in the morning to go to Ipswich, so we need to get some sleep. Okay?" They left, walking along the quay to where the barges were rafted up alongside.

Chrissie suddenly, unaccountably, felt shy. "Would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some tea ... but, you know, Chrissie, I'd rather have a kiss."

She giggled, her uncertainty banished for the moment, and pressed her lips to his. "No reason you can't have both," she smiled when they broke apart, and they went below to the saloon.

They sipped tea and just cuddled, not saying very much until they heard Jessica returning, when Tom kissed her again and stood.

"We'll meet tomorrow... ?" Chrissie said, a question in her voice.

"I'm free all day," Tom replied.

Back in Reminder's fo'c's'le Tom opened the envelope, which he'd stuffed in his pocket. It contained bank-notes to the value of sixty pounds.

He smiled, then yawned, undressed, climbed into his bunk and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Tom was awake early; he dressed, trotted along the quay to the showers and showered before a hasty breakfast.

Chrissie also woke early and lay for some time before creeping out of the cabin and getting herself some cereal and juice. Unable to sit still she tiptoed out of the saloon. The moment she stood up in the cockpit she saw Tom sitting at the outside tables belonging to the pub. She saw his face light up in a broad smile, not realising her expression was mirroring his; she went ashore and embraced him. It was barely seven o'clock.