Stuart David Ferguson

AN INTERESTING CHANGE OF LIFESTYLE

 Is it her or isn’t it, I thought?  Even if it is, she probably won’t want to speak to me after what happened. How much time has to pass for forgiveness?

I was startled by the bright red straggly hair with lipstick to match, black eye-shadow, and heavy white make-up, all of which complemented the colourful hippy style clothing. Quite a change from how she used to look!

    In spite of my uncertainty, an invisible force dragged me across the glittering tiled floor of the Leeds shopping mall towards this flamboyantly dressed woman. She had just emerged from the closing down sale of the city’s famous department store, yet another victim of the trend towards home shopping.

    Now’s the moment to find out, if I make a fool of myself then so be it. At least I’m on my own now, nobody around to make fun of me if it proves to be a stupid mistake.

    I weaved my way through the throng of shoppers, including a mum trying to wheel a pram while controlling two screaming toddlers.

    ‘Molly, is it you?  It’s me, Christine, from all those years ago in Bristol.’

    Her scowl made me shiver. Either it was mistaken identity or she remembered only too well that unfortunate situation from our past. 

    She carried on walking for a few yards and then, quite unexpectedly, turned to face me. Her bright blue eyes, framed by lashings of eye-shadow and mascara, shot a laser like look in my direction.

    Her intense stare brought home the hurt I’d caused her. It had bothered me ever since, but I’d never had the opportunity to explain my side of the story.

    ‘What are you doing here Chris? I never expected to see you again. I thought you were still living in Bristol.’

    We’d caught the attention of some of the other shoppers. It would be embarrassing to continue the conversation in the street.

    ‘I moved to Yorkshire last year. Do you fancy a coffee? We’ve a lot to catch up on. Only if you want to, I quite understand if you’d rather not.’

‘Well you’ve a nerve even speaking to me after all these years. I was going to walk away then something stopped me and I thought that maybe we should try to clear the air. Life’s too short to bear grudges. I don’t have time now but why don’t you call me to arrange a get-together.’

    She pulled a scrap of paper, an old receipt, from her pocket. ‘Do you have a pen or pencil?’

    Ever the organised one, I rummaged for a pen in my handbag and handed it to her. She scribbled a phone number and then something else which I couldn’t quite make out. She handed it to me and then, without a word, walked off into the nearby trendy clothes shop.

    I was stunned and just froze on the spot. I don’t think I moved for about a minute. I shoved the screwed up piece of paper into my purse.

    I needed a coffee to come to terms with what had just happened. I had two choices. In view of Molly’s hostile attitude, I could leave well alone, but that would be cowardly. I needed to sort this out once and for all.

    ‘Are you alright there madam?’ asked the young trainee barista as I entered the coffee shop, with its tempting array of cakes to accompany the expensive teas and coffees. It was a pleasant environment though for a quiet half hour of contemplation.

    Had the young woman in her bright green t-shirt noticed the worried look on my face, or was this just a standard greeting? I decided the latter but of course I would never know.

    ‘Tall cappuccino and a shortbread biscuit please,’ I said. ‘Chocolate on the cappuccino?’ came the reply. ‘Oh, why not, the diet will have to wait.’

    After a minute or two’s preparation, she carefully placed the enormous cup of coffee, and a piece of shortbread, on a tray which I carried to a table in the corner. It was well away from other customers. I needed space to think.

    I eventually took the scrap of paper out of my purse. In addition to her mobile, I anticipated seeing a house number, a street name and a town. What Molly had written was totally unexpected:

    Molly Smith, c/o Orange Lock Marina, Aire and Calder Navigation.

    What a surprise, she was living on the nearby canal. My mind was now made up, I had to see this and gain an insight into her new lifestyle. It was obviously very different from her prior life in Bristol, working in the accounts department of a well-known insurance company.

***

Life intervened and, for several weeks, I put Molly out of my mind. Then one Monday, following a particularly stressful night’s work in A&E, I realised I had a few free days ahead of me, as my next shift wasn’t until Friday.

    Now or never, and I went to retrieve the scrap of paper with Molly’s contact details from my purse. Oh no, where is it? I was panicking. Did I write it in my address book, I hope I did but it wasn’t there either.

    Then I remembered. I’d keyed it into my phone for safety, all very well but where was my phone? I couldn’t find it so decided to dial the number from my landline. Eventually I heard the ring tone, loud and clear from the bottom of the laundry basket.

     Using Google, I discovered that Orange Lock Marina is at the end of a narrow lane, just off the main road heading out of Leeds towards Wakefield.

    I decided to text my long lost friend:

    ‘Hi Molly, sorry I haven’t been in touch for a few weeks but I’ve been so busy with work and family. Would it be okay to pop over to your boat in the next few days? I’m free tomorrow, Wednesday or Thursday. Happy to talk about anything you want, yes even that subject! Chris.’

    Tuesday came and went. Getting ready for bed on Wednesday evening, I’d just about given up hope of a reply and was reminded of the problem with texting: If you don’t receive a reply it’s impossible to know whether you’re being deliberately ignored, the recipient’s phone isn’t working, or they’re just too busy.

    I was having trouble getting off to sleep while thinking about it. My mobile was on the bedside table. Then, just as I was in that twilight moment before sleep sets in, the mobile beeped. Shortly afterwards, it beeped again. It was just past midnight. Picking up the phone I clicked on the first of the two messages:

    ‘Hi, this is Betafone here. We have some exciting news for you: you are entitled to an upgrade to a smartphone if you sign up for our mega-plus contract at only £39.99 per month.’

    Quite annoying, I’m quite happy with my fairly basic phone. I can make calls, text and make notes, I don’t need anything else.

    I nervously clicked on the other message. To my surprise and delight it was from Molly:

  ‘Hi Chris, Sorry it’s so late. I’ve thought about this. Are you really sure you want to dig up the past?’

    She was obviously still up and about on her boat so I decided to reply straightaway:

    ‘Hi Molly, thanks for text. Shall we just do it, I’m sure it will be for the best and I’d love to have a guided tour of your boat! How about tomorrow? Chrisx’

    The reply was immediate: ‘Okay then, pop round at ten tomorrow morning. It’ll be pretty obvious which one is my boat.’

    ‘Of course Molly, I can’t wait to see it, see you tomorrow. xx’

***

 I hardly slept that night. Events from thirty years ago were going round and round in my head. How should I handle things with Molly, raise it straightaway or allow time to become re-acquainted?  

    I decided to allow plenty of time to drive to the canal. I didn’t want to be late and was only too aware that Leeds traffic can be bad at this time of the morning. Heading through the city, the satellite navigation seemed to take me on a tour of the backstreets, but I eventually emerged onto the motorway.

    After a couple of junctions I joined the Wakefield road, driving through fairly flat countryside with fields stretching into the distance.

    ‘In three hundred yards turn left onto Primrose Lane.’

    I turned down a single lane track, quite muddy and lined with hedges which cut out most of the light. I had to pull in twice to allow huge four wheel drive vehicles to pass me without so much as a wave of thanks. Eventually I came up to a sign:

 Orange Lock Marina

Moorings and Narrowboats for hire

Call in at the office for details

Café open 10-5 daily

   I managed to find a parking space, but with great difficulty. The place was packed.  I walked along a gravel track and suddenly the huge marina opened up in front of me. Row upon row of narrowboats, all distinctively painted, no doubt awaiting their owners’ annual visit.

   Then, heading down to the canal, I saw crumbling wooden lock gates next to the lock keeper’s cottage, a narrow steel footbridge, and a fast flowing weir leading down to the River Aire.

    The canal was lined on both sides with narrowboats in varying states of repair, some freshly painted and others urgently in need of maintenance.

    Then I saw an amazing sight, a boat that really stood out from the rest. It was brightly painted in several shades of pink, green, blue, orange and yellow, with lacy curtains at each window, hanging baskets of brightly coloured flowers, and large earthenware pots crammed with shrubs.

    Strapped to the roof was a lady’s bicycle with a wicker shopping basket on the front. Also on view was a clothes line crammed with multi-coloured flowery garments.

    As I approached I could see the name on the side: Molly’s Folly. It was impossible to miss, just as she’d said in her text message.

    I was uncertain how to announce my arrival, maybe just knock on a window, or would that be rude?  I was spared that decision as, just at that moment, a young woman emerged from the rear of the boat. She looked at me and frowned.

    ‘Can I help you?’

    ‘I’m looking for Molly Smith, I’d arranged to meet her and, judging by the name, I assume this is her boat?’

    ‘Just a minute,’ she said rather brusquely, and disappeared back into the boat. I stood there for a few minutes and was about to walk away when a tall dishevelled man, probably quite handsome underneath the stubble and unkempt hair, appeared.

    ‘Molly says sorry for the wait but you can come in now.’

    I was relieved as I thought she might have changed her mind about seeing me. That would have been quite understandable in the circumstances.

    ‘Have you been on a canal boat before?’

    ‘No I generally avoid boats, apart from ferries, as I get seasick.’

    ‘Me too but sailing on a canal is fine, it’s generally calm. That’s our boat over there. We’re helping Molly at the moment. Everyone helps everyone else on the canal. I’m Bill by the way.’

    ‘Nice to meet you Bill, I’m Christine.’ I looked over at his boat and noticed how dilapidated it was. Great that Molly has company, but of course our heart to heart conversation may have to wait.

  ‘Careful as you step onto the boat,’ said Bill, taking my hand. The boat rocked slightly as I stepped on board. He opened the door and I had my first sight of the interior. Molly was sitting next to the woman I’d just met. 

    I looked around, taking it all in. It was a kitchen/ dining room/ living room. Every available space was filled with copies of Impressionist paintings, brightly coloured trinkets and vases of flowers.

    ‘Hi Molly, it’s nice to see you, thanks for the invite, I love your boat.’

    ‘I didn’t know whether you’d come Chris. Sorry, I wasn’t quite ready so I asked Bill and Sue to greet you so you’ve obviously met them already.’

    ‘That’s okay.’

    Before even inviting me to take a seat, she looked me up and down. ‘So what’s going on in your life Chris?’

    I glanced at Bill and Sue’s expectant faces. I wondered what Molly had told them.

    She obviously noticed the uncertainty in my face. ‘Bill and Sue were living on the streets so I fixed them up with a boat to put their things in, but they spend most of their time here.’

    So that’s who they are. ‘I’m pleased to meet you both. Well I have two children, two grandchildren and an ex-husband! I moved up to Leeds to help look after the grandchildren.’

    ‘Yes I read about what happened to Paul in the papers. What a shame after such a successful career as a footballer. It’s unfortunate that so many of them end up having problems with alcohol and gambling once they retire.’

    She paused.  ‘Maybe it was written in the stars that things would turn out that way.’

    I winced. I knew what she was implying. We had touched on the ‘elephant in the room’ already. I thought it was best to leave it at that for now, especially in front of her friends. I think Molly realised that too.

    ‘How about you Molly, this is such a change in lifestyle.’

    ‘Yes, I decided I needed to get out of Bristol and start a new life. To take my mind off things I went with a friend for a two week trip on a narrowboat on the Kennett and Avon Canal up to Bath.’

    ‘I remember the Kennett and Avon Canal. I used to go for walks along the towpath. It’s beautiful there,’ I said.

    ‘Yes, I loved it once I learned how to handle the boat, quite difficult to begin with. What I really liked is that there are plenty of opportunities to talk to people who live on the canal.’

    ‘Yes mainly when you operate the locks, lots of people hang around wanting to help,’ said Bill.

     Molly continued: ‘Yes it’s ideal for meeting fellow canal users. During the trip I decided to turn my life around completely, sell the apartment, buy a boat and get myself a more fulfilling job, working with the homeless. An opportunity came up in Leeds and of course there are some great canals up in this part of the world. The people are lovely too.’

    ‘Well done you Molly, you’re living the dream!’

    ‘Yes it’s turned out great.’

    Bill had been listening intently. ‘Perhaps Chris could join us on our trip on the Leeds and Liverpool Canal in a couple of weeks.’

    Sue nodded vigorously but I wasn’t sure what Molly thought. Her friends had really put her on the spot.

    There was an uneasy silence before Molly finally spoke. Then, for the first time, a beaming smile lit up her face.

    ‘Only if you can cook, clean and help operate the locks. You’ll have to earn your keep Chris.’

    I made a split second decision. ‘Well I’d love to but I’ll have to see if I can take time off work, and ask if my daughter in law’s mother can help out with childcare while I’m away.’

    ‘That sounds great Chris, do let us know.’

    I stayed for an hour or so and was eventually offered a cup of tea and a biscuit. Bill explained the handling of the boat and gave me a practical demonstration of how to operate the lock gates.

    As I walked back to my car, my head was full of strange thoughts. I rather liked Bill and had to admit to myself that this had been a factor in my impetuous decision to join their trip.

***

‘Looking forward to your canal boat trip Mum?’

    ‘Yes, can’t wait and it’s so good of your mother in law to step in.’

  ‘Carol and I think it would do you the world of good to get away for a couple of weeks. The kids will miss you though.’

    ‘Well I expect I’ll have plenty of stories to tell on my return.’

    ‘Looking forward to it Mum.’

    The next morning I drove to Orange Lock Marina for the start of my big adventure. Bill and Sue were filling the boat with water and diesel. Molly soon arrived on her bike, carrying food from the local convenience store.

    ‘All set?’ said Bill with a coy smile that sent shivers down my spine; I just hoped no-one had noticed my reaction.

    The sleeping arrangements were tricky. As the name suggests, a narrowboat has very limited space.  Bill and Sue were in bunk beds with Molly in her own cabin. Each evening the dining area would need to be converted into a bed for me.

    Two hours later Bill untied the mooring ropes, the engine chugged into life, and we were away! Molly was steering. By lunchtime we’d arrived in the centre of Leeds where we stopped for lunch.

    ‘I didn’t even know about this canal, what’s the history of it?’ I asked.

    ‘Well its heyday was in the mid-eighteenth century when goods, mainly coal, were carried cross country,’ said Molly.

    ‘Yes joining the Aire and Calder Navigation, here in Leeds, it forms a coast to coast route between the Irish Sea and the North Sea,’ added Bill.

    ‘So when did it no longer transport goods?’

    ‘It competed successfully with the railways during the nineteenth century and even during the twentieth century, up to 1972. Since then it’s mainly been used for leisure, kept open thanks to the efforts of volunteers,’ said Molly.

    Over the next few days we travelled on the edge of the beautiful Yorkshire Dales before crossing over into Lancashire. There was always something of interest to see, a variety of bridges, beautiful countryside, farms and picturesque villages.

    There were several waterside farm shops where we sometimes stopped to stock up with bread, cheese, milk and eggs. It was also nice to receive a cheery wave from fellow canal users.

    Each evening we found a beautiful spot in open countryside to moor for the night, often with families of swans and ducks for company. They very much appreciated the bread, biscuits and cake we offered them.

    We were lucky with the weather. For once, the month of September had turned out sunny and dry. There was no opportunity, however, for Molly and I to address our difficult subject. It would have been a shame to sour the atmosphere anyway as we were all having such a great time.

    We covered about twenty-five miles each day, sailing between ten in the morning and seven in the evening. They all appreciated my cooking, and were happy to allow me to do the washing up. The kitchen became my domain. It was the least I could do to thank them for welcoming me aboard.

    Sometimes Bill offered to help in the kitchen area. It was a good excuse for some mild flirting which I didn’t mind at all!

    On the last full day of our trip we decided to spend the evening in Leeds city centre, having travelled to Liverpool and back in a fortnight. Dusk was falling and all seemed fine as we approached the city’s outskirts, but all was about to change; the peace and quiet was suddenly shattered by the sound of a woman’s hysterical screaming.

    Sue was steering, chatting to Bill. On hearing the shrieks, Molly and I clambered up onto the small deck area.

    ‘It’s coming from that house just up there, backing directly onto the canal,’ said Bill.

    We saw a young woman emerge through the French Windows of the house. She was being chased by a man, red in the face with anger, who was trying to grab hold of her.

    ‘Leave me alone!’

    ‘No, you’ve been asking for this for a long time. I can’t stand it any longer.’

    A girl aged about seven emerged from the house, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘Daddy stop, leave Mummy alone!’

    We thought quickly as we approached the back of the house. We were only a few yards from the small jetty at the end of their garden.

    ‘Jump onto our boat!’ we shouted, almost in unison.

    It was a case of jump or get hurt. She had no choice, but unfortunately didn’t quite make it, and landed in the canal with a huge splash.

     ‘I can’t swim,’ she screamed.

    Without a moment’s hesitation, Bill jumped in, grabbed hold of the woman, and lifted her onto our boat. We could see and hear her partner standing on the water’s edge shouting abuse.

    ‘We have to rescue the daughter,’ exclaimed Bill, dripping wet. ‘You call the police Chris while we pull ashore.’

    ‘It’s far too dangerous Bill, that man won’t hesitate to use violence,’ said Sue.

     ‘No we have to do something. Steer the boat in as close as possible.’

     Once we were a metre from the bank, Bill leapt off the boat and ran towards the source of the commotion…

***

‘Just what is that thing between you and Molly,’ asked Bill as he lay in the casualty ward of Leeds General Hospital. His left leg was in traction and the rest of his body, including his head, was swathed in bandages.

    He’d been savagely beaten up and owed his life to me bashing the man on the head with a flowerpot, and then the prompt arrival of the police.

    The fight with Bill had saved the man’s daughter from coming to any harm; Molly and Sue managed to lead her to safety.

    The story had been all over the papers and we were in line for bravery awards. I decided that now was the time to reveal to Bill what had happened between Molly and I all those years ago. 

    ‘Did you ever see the film ‘The Graduate’?’

    ‘Yes I did, long time ago though. What’s that got to do with it?’

    ‘I don’t suppose you remember the scene at the end?’

    ‘Not really.’

    ‘Well Mrs Robinson’s daughter is at the altar, just about to take her wedding vows, when she spots Dustin Hoffman’s character, Benjamin, at the back of the church. He hadn’t been invited but sneaked in.’

    ‘So?’

    ‘Well on seeing Benjamin, she rushes out of the church into his arms. The same thing happened with Paul and me just as he was about to get married to Molly.’

    ‘That’s unbelievable!’

***

 Well, looking back a year later, things turned out fine in the end. Bill was a patient in the hospital where I worked. I visited him every day and we became well acquainted. Once he’d been discharged, we started seeing each other regularly.

     His sister Sue had become close friends with Molly during the two week canal boat trip. Molly helped to find Sue a job with Social Services, and they decided to live together on the boat once Bill moved in with me. He scrubbed up pretty well and found a job in a local supermarket.

    My children and grandchildren were astonished that, along with Bill, Sue and Molly, I was now a national hero, following my first ever canal boat trip. We were even interviewed on Breakfast TV!

    The incident in the church, where I’d stolen my friend’s fiancée, was never spoken of again.

THE END