Page 28 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
She smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you. I didn’t realise there was a canal here.’
He grinned. ‘Neither did I until I nearly fell in it once after a night out. I was a little bit tipsy if truth be told…’
‘Ah.’ She smiled and took the arm he was offering, grateful for the support as they began to walk.
‘I often think I’d like to live on a canal boat,’ she mused.
‘Then why don’t you?’
‘Well only because I have my cottage. If I didn’t then I think a canal boat would be the next best thing. My house is only tiny, but it’s mine and very special to me. My grandma left it to me when she died and it used to be the lock-keeper’s cottage when such a thing existed. I played there as a child. In fact, you probably know it…’
‘No, I’m ashamed to say that I’ve never even been to the canal.’
She stared at him, shocked. ‘How can you have never been? It’s right in the town.’
He pulled a rueful face. ‘Too busy doing other things? I dunno really… just never thought about it, I guess…’ He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t really ever walk, or rather I don’t ever go for a walk, just for walking’s sake.’ He paused when he saw the look on her face. ‘Has that shocked you?’
She tipped her head on one side. ‘I’m a little surprised, yes. I can’t really understand how anyone would choose not to do that. I walk every day, even when it’s pouring with rain; not always far, but it’s a bit like breathing. I’m not sure I could get through the day without it.’
He nodded. ‘Perhaps I might have to try it some time.’
‘We’re walking now,’ she replied, raising her eyebrows.
‘So we are…’
They fell silent for a few minutes, both lost in thought, until they turned the corner of a road and came to a little footbridge that crossed the canal. Bertie led her up onto it and paused for a moment, his arms resting on the railing.
She followed suit, staring at the dark ribbon of water that threaded its way through the city. She pointed. ‘Look…’
Below them, tucked into the side of the canal was a narrowboat. It was painted cherry red and a deep, almost navy blue. A tiny Christmas tree sat on the stern, a wire trailing from the lights that circled it, over the door hatch and back inside the boat. Further loops of lights hung around the windows and from the metal chimney a coil of scented smoke rose into the still air. Daisy breathed it in.
‘Don’t you love that smell? It’s a winter smell, like steam trains too… It makes me feel so nostalgic, what for I don’t know, but still…’
Bertie lifted his head to stare down the length of the canal, inhaling deeply. ‘I’ve often wondered how you keep those things warm in cold weather.’
‘Squirrel stoves, they’re called. Little pot-bellied wood burners, they keep everything toasty and warm. You really can live on the boats all year round, they’re very comfortable.’
‘But where would you put everything?’
She gave him a long look. ‘I think the idea is that you travel light. But they have lots of little cubbyholes, and cupboards tucked away. Seats lift up for storage, that kind of thing.’
‘Yes, but I’d never get half of my stuff in there. In fact, probably not even the contents of one room.’
‘And all those things are an absolute necessity, are they?’
He frowned at her. ‘Well I guess that depends on what you call a necessity, doesn’t it? But they’re certainly things I wouldn’t wish to live without. I mean, I have a fifty-inch TV for starters, where would that go?’
She didn’t answer for a moment, her eyebrows raised in amusement.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I can see you’re dying to put me straight about my materialistic tendencies.’
‘No, I just wondered why you need to have so many things. Is it the need to own things because they make you feel better about yourself – obvious symbols of your wealth and status – or is it just for practical reasons?’
‘Blimey, Daisy, don’t pull any punches, will you?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound judgemental, I’m genuinely interested. There’s a man that lives on a narrowboat a little further up the canal from me – we say good morning to one another every day. He has a little garden on his roof, and grows vegetables all year round. He has a bike if he needs to go anywhere, a little shelf of books and a well-used library card, and he shops from the local market every day, buying fresh food from local growers. And he can change the view from his windows any time he wants to. It strikes me that he has not only everything he could possibly need, but everything he could possibly want as well.’
Bertie’s eyes were twinkling. ‘I bet he doesn’t have a job though.’
