Chapter 23

Our consideration of the future, with the dramatic change in our circumstances was long and we were distracted by 'Uncle Reggie', the businessman I'd been talking to at the wedding. He asked me, very courteously, if I would be willing to travel to London to discuss IT systems with him and some colleagues – his company would, of course pay expenses and a consultancy fee. What did I have to lose? Over several hours, which included a rather good lunch, I ran through what they ought to be looking for in a new system. I declined an offer of employment, even as Head of IT, but suggested they contact Howard Whitchurch.

"If Howie isn't interested himself, and he might be if you're offering him a free hand, he'll certainly have suggestions for rising stars who might be suitable."

"But you'd be willing to be available to us on a consultancy basis, won't you?"

"Oh, yes, certainly, if you want me."

When we'd finished, 'Uncle Reggie'..." he did, in fact, ask me to call him 'Reggie', said, "there's something else that might interest you. Some large firms operate a barge as a corporate entertainment facility. It is quite an expensive service. I would like to do so, but though we're surviving quite nicely, thank you, I'm reluctant to commit the company to a substantial expenditure in the present economic climate. Other firms are in the same position. I understand you and Grace might have the ... where-with-all to purchase and operate such a vessel. Offering team-building cruises and corporate entertainment, you might find several firms interested, even eager, to take up such a service, perhaps pay a retainer for so many days each year. The team-building stuff might even take place in the winter, perhaps at a lower rate? Perhaps you'd like to think about it, anyway."

Grace liked the idea. In fact, she was excited about it. "What would it cost, Ted?"

"Buy a barge? Around a quarter of a million. Repair and refit – another quarter of a million."

"As much as that?" She was surprised, rather than put off.

"You've got to remember, there aren't many barges around under eighty years old. Wood rots, steel rusts. It would probably be cheaper to build from scratch. Annual maintenance, maybe twenty-five thou a year. Then you've got running costs. Not many barges run at a profit, these days, especially if you count in depreciation. But ... it would be fun to do..."

Her eyes were bright with excitement. "She'd be great for family holidays, though, too. You could fit her out with showers and such, couldn't you? Why don't we?"

"You really want to?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Then, I'll look into naval architects and yards. Get some figures." I lapsed into thought; I didn't really know where to start.

"Ted..." she broke into my reverie.

"Yes, Love?"

"I think I'd like another baby. How do you feel about that? Would you like one of your own?"

"You know I reckon Erica to be mine? I don't want any question, ever, of her belonging."

"I know, Ted. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to undermine that. Erica ... I carried her with love, and she was born into love, and she'll grow up with love. But I would like to have one that began with love."

"I can't refuse you anything, Love, you know that. I love Erica and I'll love watching you bulge. Then I'll love her or him."

She sat on my lap and snuggled into my arms, a familiar yet always fresh joy. "I love you, Ted. We've never used any birth-control ... conception is a lot less likely while I'm breast-feeding, but that's tapering off and it's going to end soon. It could start any time."

"That's fine, Sweetheart. Let's just let it happen."

I didn't rush the cuddle, but in due course began a lengthy research for a suitable boat/ship builder, sources of equipment such as anchor windlass and crab winches, brail winch and steering gear, and, of course, putting out feelers to possible customers. That afternoon was only the beginning of a couple of months' research, but after tea, once Erica was fed and handed over to Linnet ... I looked at Grace, who had a hand behind her back.

"I worry about Linnet a bit," I said, "that she's stuck here with us and not much opportunity to get to know someone ... I mean, a partner for life."

"You know I've told you you can help her out if you like. She won't make the first move. When I told you to make love to Eva, that was a risk. I was a little afraid you'd fall in love with her, too; but I was willing to share, if necessary. I think you're very fond of Linnet, but I don't think you're in love with her."

I shook my head and shrugged, and she brought out the hand from behind her back, which was holding a small, dark wood, box.

I recognised it as something I'd bought years before; it's a cube, two-and-a-half inches on a side, in a lovely dark hardwood inlaid with brass dots making it a large die, which opens up to reveal five regular-sized dice in the same wood with brass inlaid dots. I'm told it is for a particular game, but I have never been a gambler, not that sort anyway, and I got it because I thought it beautiful. These days I am particularly fond of it because of the associations. We use two of the dice and begin with half an hour discussing the various options. Weird foreplay, right? Fun, though. Sometimes it takes hours, but I always end up buried to the hilt in my wife; that's the object of the exercise after all.

It took three months, but work eventually began at a boatyard slap-bang in the middle of the Midlands. It was going to be fun transporting her to the sea. We tracked down the 'gear' – steering mechanism, 'daisy-cutter' wheel, winches, windlass, anchor and chain, and spars – of an ancient wooden barge that had sadly just been let go too long. Building from scratch meant that the hull was made to have an engine, prop-shaft and propeller from the beginning, rather than having one added as an afterthought. The Master's cabin was a little larger than usual, and the forecastle, likewise, had three pretty comfortable bunks and both spaces were equipped with small diesel-oil heaters. Luxury.

She was fitted out with six cabins, containing a total of fifteen bunks, three of them doubles, two showers, two sea-toilets and two 'porta-potti' chemical loos. A kitchenette with a servery and a large saloon, big enough to seat twenty-five round the long table as well as comfortable arm-chairs, coffee-tables and a dual-fuel stove.

Almost a hundred feet long, she had to be transported by road to Felixstowe Docks where I watched, heart in mouth and squeezing Grace's hand until she squeaked, as the barge was lowered into the water to be towed up to Pin Mill to be rigged. I'm running ahead, though.

Going back to our 'dice-night' ... I'm not giving all the details, because we took over two hours before reaching a most satisfying conclusion. As we lay together afterwards, Grace said, a little drowsily, "I've been thinking..."

"Oh, yes."

"It's coming up to the year and we're going to have to think what we're doing about the house..."

"True. I gather there's no sign of Jim's friends giving up and coming home..."

"Eva and Jim are still squashed into that little flat, and Eva's happily pregnant again."

Ah! That's what triggered the conversation! Mind you, I was sure she'd had the topic in mind beforehand.

"Uh huh."

"I was thinking ... we can afford a larger house, perhaps with a bigger garden. Maybe something with a river view..."

"Sounds good."

"And Jim could buy this one. We could carry the mortgage ourselves if he had any problem with getting one."

So there it was; I realised how selfish I'd been, basking in connubial bliss and not giving any consideration to my friends' position. It took Grace to point out how we could help.

"Great idea! If Jim'll take it, of course."

It took some negotiation, but eventually Jim agreed to let us help him buy the place and to let us continue to live there as we looked for somewhere for ourselves; we were very lucky to find a very 'des res' overlooking the Hythe. Eva and Jim didn't have to wait long to move in to Mill Road and when the dust settled they had a good mortgage, not with us, but some encouragement to the bank helped, I expect.

Through the late autumn and winter, I made several trips to the capital, 'consulting' on the new business systems for Uncle Reggie. Not that Howie needed me, but he was pleased enough with his new position and happy to please his employer. I'd have taken Grace, but she didn't want to be away from Erica too long and we neither of us wanted to take Erica to London, at least, not until she was able to know what was happening.

The rabbit died a couple of days after Erica's first birthday. Okay, I know, it's just a stick that turns blue ... but it happened, as I say, two days after Erica's first birthday, and coincided with her first, tottering steps. As luck would have it, we – Grace and I, and Linnet were all there to witness the momentous event. I had Bushmills; Linnet, Pinot Noir; Grace celebrated with some spring water from Derbyshire, and Erica had juice.

The news had to be shared, of course; Patience and Peter Tyndall were pleased. When we rang Bridget and Eric, we found ourselves invited to spend Christmas in Orkney. Their church didn't do Christening; they were into adult baptism, but babies are dedicated, and they wanted us to be there.

It was surprisingly easy. Train to Edinburgh, and a direct flight to Kirkwall. Okay, six hours on the train and another two on the aircraft, but Erica, the darling, gave us no trouble and a great deal of entertainment. Not to mention charming other passengers with her bright curiosity, fiery red hair and glowing green eyes. We all went; we couldn't leave Linnet on her own. I never did find out about her family, why she didn't, or wouldn't, or couldn't go home to them.

Our friends were living in a tiny cottage and it would have been impractical to stay with them so, rather than impose on their families, which would have meant separating from Linnet, we took a hotel room; I hadn't realised what Grace had done and had thought she'd book two rooms, or maybe a suite, but we were in a family room – double bed, quite a large one, settee that doubled as a single bed, and a trundle bed under it.

I just looked my question at Grace who by that time knew what was going through my head.

"Don't be silly, Darling. We couldn't push her off on her own, or with Erica. We're all friends together."

Well, we started off in separate beds...

I woke in the night, sandwiched between two warm female bodies, one of whom was crying very softly. Grace was in her usual position, tucked under my right arm, head on my shoulder and right leg hooked over mine. She was asleep and breathing gently, so it had to be Linnet.

"Hey," I whispered, "what's the matter?"