Will on the Water Read online



  Will on the Water

  Willow Irvine has lived her whole live on-board her family’s narrowboat, Tinkerbell. Home-schooled by her Mum and Dad, she longs to go to a real school, and to have proper friends.

  When events force her to move in with her cousins and go to their school for a term, she discovers that school life isn’t all she hoped it would be.

  Can Willow find her place in a classroom? Or will she realise her true home is on the water?

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © Mandy Martin 2015

  Mandy Martin asserts the moral right to be

  identified as the author of this work

  Also by Mandy Martin:

  Seren Kitty (1)

  Seren Kitty and the Tricky Wizard (2)

  Seren Kitty and the Dog-Nappers (3)

  Seren Kitty in Italy (4)

  Will on the Water (2)

  Moon Pony

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter One

  Willow slumped down on the roof of Tinkerbell, her family’s narrow boat, and sighed. The sun glinted off her short brown hair and highlighted the grazes and bruises on her tanned legs. Mum said she looked like she’d been fighting tigers, but Willow just liked climbing trees. Right now, though, they were moving to a new mooring and she was stuck on board.

  She drummed her heels against the wood and watched the hedges and fields passing slowly by.

  “Will! Stop that noise. I’m trying to write and it sounds like an elephant playing the bongos.”

  “Sorry, Dad!” Willow called back.

  She climbed to her feet and ran along to where Mum was steering, dodging past the sprawling strawberries and rows of leeks and carrots that made up their floating garden. Her bare feet slapped loudly on the hot wood.

  “Willow!” Dad yelled.

  “Oops.” Willow dropped in next to Mum. “Dad’s in a grump.”

  “His editor wants the first ten chapters of his novel by tea time today.” Mum smiled. “Go easy on him.”

  Willow nodded in understanding. Dad wrote murder-mystery novels. It was cool most of the time, because he was always around when she needed him. Plus when she occasionally got to visit a library his books were there on the shelf. It made her buzz with pride. But if he had a deadline he was grumpier than a cat in a bath.

  “Anyway, what were you doing to upset him? I thought you had homework?”

  Willow shook her head. “Dad didn’t give me any – he muttered something about being too busy.”

  Mum scrunched her lips up, like she was about to kiss a slimy toad. “Is that so? Maybe I’d better do your tutoring this week.”

  “Aw, Mum.”

  Mum always wanted to teach her about famous artists and inventors. It was bor-ing! Willow much preferred learning about Wow Words and how to describe the perfect nasty villain. Stuff she learned from Dad. She’d read every book on her tiny shelf at least ten times. That was the only problem living on a boat – there wasn’t much room to keep books.

  “You should count yourself lucky,” Mum said, pushing her sunglasses up on her head so she could look at Willow properly. “If you were in school, you’d be sat at a desk all day, and get no choice about what you had to study.”

  Willow sighed. “If I was in school, I’d have friends to hang out with.”

  It was a familiar argument. Willow had never been to school. Even though Mum and Dad were teachers, they’d stopped teaching when she was born. Now they had to move their boat every two weeks, because of waterway rules, so Willow was home-schooled.

  “What about Neddy and Jess? They were tied up near us last night.” Mum said, as she turned the boat to avoid a group of teenagers learning to row. Neddy and Jess lived on a narrowboat too, and the two families often moored near each other.

  “They were being stupid,” Willow said, folding her arms tightly. “Jess says we’re too babyish to play with now she’s twelve, and Neddy wanted to go swimming in the canal.”

  Mum’s head span so fast Willow was surprised it didn’t fall off. “I hope you told him not to be such an idiot!”

  “Yes, Mum,” Willow replied in a resigned tone. “The water is dangerous,” she parroted. It was a lesson she’d heard from the day she was able to crawl. After nine years of hearing it, the words were carved permanently in her brain.

  Mum sighed. “Maybe you do need to be in school,” she said quietly. Willow held her breath.

  “I’ll speak to your father. We’d hoped to keep you on the boat for another year, and then start you in a senior school.”

  Willow hopped from foot to foot. Mum had never mentioned her going to school before. She often watched children in their smart uniform, running and playing together as they went into the school buildings she could see from the water. They always looked so happy, like a flock of birds that all belonged together.

  Maybe it was her turn to join a flock.

  Chapter Two

  “Mum, phone!” Willow called. “It’s Aunt Henry,”

  Mum made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a curse. “What does she want now? I bet Patience has got chicken pox and she wants Timothy and Zander to come and stay with us.”

  “Well, they can’t!” Will snapped. Her cousins were too noisy for the tiny spaces on the boat. And they argued too much.

  Mum took the phone from Willow and held it to her ear. “Hello, Henry.”

  Willow sat on the step leading into her parents’ bedroom, but Mum made a face and shooed her inside.

  It was a pointless gesture. You couldn’t have a private conversation on the boat, even with the engine running. Willow went along to her bunk and lay with her head angled towards Mum.

  “…how terrible,” Mum was saying. “Is he all right?”

  There was a pause, and Willow imagined Aunt Henry launching into some long and tearful explanation. She’d definitely been born with all the drama out of the two sisters. Mum never lost her cool.

  “Dengue fever!” Mum exclaimed, making Willow jump. Okay, make that nearly never.

  “Can’t they send him home on a private jet? Surely he has medical insurance?”

  There was another long pause. Willow concentrated on listening so hard her ears hurt.

  “I see,” Mum said eventually. “Then of course I’ll come.”

  Willow heard the fear and frustration in Mum’s voice and wondered if Aunt Henry could hear it too.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Mum said then. “Chin up, Henry, he’ll be fine.”

  As Mum finished her call, Willow felt the engine stop. Tinkerbell bumped gently against the bank. There was a pause and Willow pictured Mum throwing a rope over a mooring post.

  When Mum hurried down the boat to Dad’s office Willow rolled off her bunk and followed.

  “What does it take to get a bit of peace round here?” Dad snapped, as Mum reached the cubby hole they all called Dad’s Office.

  “Sorry, darling, I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t urgent.”

  As she hovered unobtrusively in the background, Willow heard Dad sigh. “What now?”

  “Gerald has caught dengue fever, in Taiwan. Apparently he’s going to be
in hospital for several weeks and Henry wants to fly out to be with him. So I need to go and mind the kids.”

  Willow’s eyes opened wide. Poor Uncle Gerald.

  Dad didn’t say anything immediately. Then he laughed. “Great! Take Will with you. I might finally get this book finished.”

  Willow sniggered. She couldn’t help it. Dad could be so self-absorbed when he was writing.

  “No, Willow can’t come,” Mum said crossly. “I’ll have my hands full with Henry’s three and the school run. Besides, Will can make sure you eat.”

  Willow’s heart sank. Even staying with her horrible cousins would be better than being stuck on Tinkerbell with a grumpy dad. Plus, if she went, there was a chance she might be allowed to go to school.

  “I should think you’d be glad to have Will with you,” Dad retorted. “At least she doesn’t expect to be waited on hand and foot. She can help you look after Zany, Tim-all-me and No-Patience.”

  Willow giggled and then pretended to cough as Mum glared at her.

  “Don’t teach Willow to call her cousins names, George, how childish.”

  Dad pulled a face and then became serious as Mum looked like she might lose her cool for the second time.

  “Please, Phil,” he begged. “Take Willow with you. She can go into school with her cousins, I’m sure they won’t mind this close to the end of term. Tell the teachers we’re thinking of moving her there. How long can someone be ill with dengue fever?”

  “Henry said a couple of weeks, maybe a bit more before he’s fit enough to fly.”

  “There you go then, two weeks of a proper bed, shower and washing machine. You’re always saying they’re the only things you miss from our lives before.”

  Mum’s face softened. Willow imagined standing for ages under a steaming torrent of water. It would be awesome. If she showered for more than two minutes on the boat, Mum yelled at her not to empty the water tank.

  She crossed her fingers but kept her lips pressed tightly together. If she asked to come again, Mum would say she was nagging, and definitely not give in.

  “All right,” Mum said after an eternity. “Will can come too. But make sure you finish that book! We need your next advance to pay for the licence fee, and…” She stopped.

  “And what?”

  “Never mind, we’ll talk about it later.”

  Willow frowned. Mum and Dad didn’t keep secrets. But she was too excited at the prospect of going to school to give it much thought.

  Chapter Three

  Willow only ever stayed with her cousins at Christmas. Aunt Henry refused to visit the boat in December, saying it would be far too chilly. Actually the boat was toasty in winter, with the radiators easily warming the small space.

  Visiting her cousins’ house now, Willow realised it was very different to the holidays. As Aunt Henry opened the door, Will heard the squawk of a trumpet being tortured upstairs. The television blared from the lounge – a super-hero cartoon, Willow guessed, from the yells and screams. There were no cartoons at Christmas – Aunt Henry made the family play Monopoly and Charades. Willow was relieved to know they actually owned a TV.

  “Phil, thank goodness you’re here!” Aunt Henry said by way of greeting. She kissed the air either side of Mum’s cheeks and then hurried back into the house, completely ignoring Will.

  “The flight leaves at eight,” Aunt Henry called over her shoulder. “The taxi will be here any minute. The children have eaten dinner. Zander is practising his trumpet and Timothy’s watching TV. Make sure he only gets an hour.”

  She paused for breath, waiting for Mum and Will to follow her into the kitchen. Will gawped at the chaos. The room was bigger than the whole of Tinkerbell, and every flat surface was stacked high. Piles of paper, books, dirty pans, empty cups. School shoes, rugby boots, ballet pumps. Snake-like dirty socks lurked on the floor as if waiting for a mouse. School bags hung off the tops of the kitchen chairs, gaping open like hungry birds.

  Will stepped over a plastic bag of books and a basket of clothes that had been knocked over, its contents spilling across the tiles.

  “Did you get burgled?” she asked in concern.

  Mum shushed her quickly with a glare and a flap of her hands.

  If Aunt Henry heard the question, she ignored it. Instead she handed Mum a list.

  “This is the children’s schedule. Patience has ballet at 9 a.m. tomorrow, while Timothy is at cricket and Zander is at band practice. Then they all have riding in the afternoon. Make sure Patience isn’t mounted on Flo – that pony is vicious. Sunday morning is the swimming gala. Timothy is tipped to win the 100m freestyle so take a camera. Make sure they shower afterwards; the chlorine is dreadful for their skin. Betty washes and irons their school uniform – she’ll bring that over on Sunday evening. She’ll need paying so I’ll leave some money on the mantelpiece.”

  Will’s mouth hung open. It sounded like a military operation. When did they eat? And talk to each other?

  Something tickled her and she jumped. Looking down she saw a fluffy white cat wrapping itself around her legs.

  “Hello, Princess,” Will said, picking up the cat. She hugged it, glad for something familiar.

  Aunt Henry continued to reel off instructions to Mum. It amazed Willow that Mum didn’t run out screaming. There was so much to remember. Mum normally only had to worry about her and Dad, and they rarely went anywhere that didn’t involve the river.

  For the first time Willow wondered if she’d made a mistake. She imagined sitting quietly on the boat, reading a detective story and feeding the ducks from her bedroom window. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad life.

  “I’ve had to put Willow in the study,” Aunt Henry said. Willow’s ears pricked up at the sound of her name. She was beginning to think Aunt Henry couldn’t actually see her. “I’m afraid Patience won’t share,” she said by way of explanation.

  Willow heaved a sigh of relief. Her five-year-old cousin was a nightmare. They usually shared at Christmas and all the pinkness and glitter and mountains of fluffy toys gave her a headache.

  Willow left Mum in the kitchen reassuring Aunt Henry. She grabbed her bag and went up to the first floor to find the study. She pulled out the sofa bed and huddled on top. Princess leapt on the bed and began to purr.

  “Hey, Princess,” Willow said quietly. “At least I’ve got you to talk to.”

  She heard a car honk its horn, followed by Aunt Henry calling up the stairs to tell the children she was leaving. For a moment Willow considered staying in her room. But she knew Mum would call it bad manners, so she crept out and tip-toed downstairs.

  “Do be good for Aunty Phil,” Aunt Henry said, gathering them into a hug. Zander kept his hands in his pockets, his face blank. He looked taller than Willow remembered. Timothy’s eyes looked red and he swallowed hard as Aunt Henry picked up her suitcase.

  “Bye, Mummy,” Patience said with a smile. She didn’t seem at all concerned that her Mum was leaving for several weeks.

  As soon as the door slammed shut, all three children hurried away. Willow stood staring at the empty hallway wondering what on earth had just happened.

  Chapter Four

  Willow stared at the boxes of cereal on the breakfast table and wondered where they stored them all. Their kitchen on the boat just had room for a small packet of Weetabix and a box of porridge.

  Mum stood at the stove whisking eggs. Patience had demanded blueberry pancakes in an increasingly shrill voice until Mum had given in.

  Will smothered a yawn. Sleep seemed as elusive as silence in this house. Her cousins had raced up and down the corridor until even the summer sun gave up and went to bed. When the house eventually fell quiet, it was too quiet. Too still. Was there such a thing as land sickness? She certainly felt homesick.

  “Why do all the people in your family have boys’ names?” Patience demanded suddenly. “It’s stupid.”

  Willow stared blankly at her cousin, unsure what the girl had just said.

&
nbsp; When she didn’t answer, Patience pulled a face. “I said why does everyone in your family have boys’ names?”

  “Your mum has a boy’s name!” Will bit back, too tired to be polite. “Aunt Henry.”

  Patience shook her messy blond hair. “Only you and Aunty Philippa call her that. Everyone else calls her Henrietta. Because that’s her name.”

  Willow thought it was as much of a mouthful as Philippa, but she didn’t say so. Even though she and Mum had only been in the house half a day, she already knew the consequences of arguing with Patience. The five-year-old could screech like a mating fox, and frequently did. So far that morning she’d screamed because her plate was the wrong colour; her hair was in her eyes; her clothes were itchy; and her skin felt weird.

  Willow shook her head. At least the boys were quiet. Timothy sat permanently in front of the TV, despite Mum’s best efforts to limit his screen time, as Aunt Henry called it. Zander rarely left his room. Willow had peeked in and seen him talking to faces on his computer.

  She wondered if any of them ever read a book outside school.

  That reminded her. “Mum, what am I going to wear to school on Monday?”

  Mum glanced over, as she served the pancakes to Patience before putting the frying pan in the dishwasher. “I don’t know. Eat up, Patience, or we’ll be late for ballet.”

  “You have to put my hair in a bun,” Patience said without looking up from her plate.

  Willow winced and waited for Mum to remind Patience of her manners. Mum glared for a moment, but then her shoulders dropped and she turned back to the dirty plates.

  Will felt cheated. If she’d spoken to Mum like that, she’d have been sent to her room.

  What makes them so special, Willow thought as she went to help Mum stack the dishwasher.

  “Timothy, Zander!” Mum yelled, making Willow jump. “Come and eat, I have to get you to your weekend clubs.”

  There was no response. Mum’s face went blank, like she was counting to ten. That was more normal Mum behaviour. She took a deep breath and turned to Willow. “I’ll finish this. Please can you go and fetch your cousins?”

  Willow opened her mouth to ask about the school uniform again, but thought better of it.

  “Okay, Mum,” she said and left the room just as Patience started painting patterns on the table with a squashed blueberry.