Page 2 of Swept Away

“Umm…hey? What do you mean?”

“I’m staying on this boat,” she repeats slowly. “As in, this is my friend Penny’s houseboat. And I’m staying here for a bit.”

“Uh? No? This is my houseboat,” I say, leaning a hand on the counter as the floor shifts beneath me. “I bought it on Wednesday.”

Lexi’s eyes grow even wider. “Are you fucking with me or something?” she asks, straightening up to her full five foot one—five foot three if you count the bun, she’d said at the pub.

“No,” I say, trying to focus. I need water, fried food and one of those coffees that’s so strong it erodes the roof of your mouth as you drink. “It used to be my dad’s. He lived here when I was a kid. When he passed away a few years ago, I sold it, but then I decided…Yeah. You know. I came up here to buy it back. Didn’t we talk about this last night?”

More deadpan staring.

“We talked about you buying a houseboat last night, yes,” she says. “But it wasn’t this houseboat. Because this is Penny’s houseboat.”

I guess I’m…missing something here?

“Is this a joke?” I ask.

Lexi reaches into the back pocket of her jeans and tugs out her mobile phone, frowning for a moment before shoving it back in again. “OK, I have no signal, but if I did, I’d show you—it’s on Houseboat Getaway Rentals.”

“It was on Houseboat Getaway Rentals,” I acknowledge. “Before I bought it. Is your Penny called Penelope Manley?”

Lexi freezes. “Yes,” she says, voice low with suspicion.

“Right,” I say, relieved. “Then she just sold me this boat.”

“No, she didn’t,” Lexi says, after a moment’s pause. “No, she didn’t. She would have told me if she was selling this boat. It wouldn’t be online anymore, either—it wouldn’t be showing up on Houseboat Getaway whatever-it-is, would it? That’s…No.” She scowls, shoulders tense now. She’s getting upset. “Is that why you came home with me from the pub? So you could get on this boat and claim squatters’ rights, or something?”

“No! What? I didn’t even…” I rub my eyes hard. “Last night…” I try to piece it back together. “I fobbed us into the marina. We chatted to Paige, you helped her sort the rope, then…we headed in. How did you not realize this was my houseboat?”

“Youhelped her sort the rope. AndIfobbed us into the marina.”

This kind of feels like pointless semantics, as my sister, Lyra, would say.

“Didn’t it seem weird to you that Paige said it was my boat?”

“She didn’t,” Lexi says, staring at me. “She said…” She presses her hand to her forehead. “I can’t remember exactly, but I’d remember if she’d said that. This is ridiculous. Penny wouldn’t sell the houseboat without telling me. The key was still in the key safe, everything is the same as always…”

“I picked up the keys from the company that manages the boat rental yesterday,” I say. Though I haven’t actually checked there aren’t extras in the key safe, so I guess she could be telling the truth.

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

Lexi looks around, staring at the mustard-colored curtains pulled across the windows, the bland seaside paintings, the kitschy corgi-themed clock screwed to the wall in the narrow sliver of space between the bedroom doorframe and the kitchen cabinets. I follow her gaze and notice the time. Half twelve. I’m always a fan of a long lie-in, but that’s late even for me. When I turn back to Lexi, she looks kind of crumpled, as if someone’s just given her some really bad news, and I feel shitty all of a sudden, because I think that someone might be me.

“Shall we go out for coffee?” I say. “Talk this over properly?”

She’s frowning down at her phone again.

“Lexi?”

“No,” she says, looking up at last. “I’m not going to leave the houseboat. It doesn’t seem sensible. In the circumstances.” She gives me a rare smile. It looks totally insincere. “You are welcome to leave the boat, though.”

…hmm.

“Shall we at least sit down?”

“Maybe you could put some trousers on,” she says, “if you’re going to sit on Penny’s sofa.”

“It’s not…”

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