The twin carrier bags had definitely been a good idea, but her arms were still aching by the time they reached the towpath. It was a gloriously sunny day with just a few wisps of cloud overhead. A narrowboat went by, clearly a live-aboard as the roof was covered with boxes, crates and two bicycles. There was a man in a flat cap at the stern and he waved. Lulu nodded and smiled. Canal folk were friendly people, there was no doubt about it. The narrowboat was called Over the Hull, a nice play on words. Lulu had bought The Lark from a retired teacher who had owned it from new and had bought it, he’d said, as a lark.
As they approached The Lark, Conrad’s ears pricked up. ‘Do you hear that?’ he said.
‘Hear what?’ asked Lulu.
‘A woman, crying.’
Lulu turned her head from side to side, narrowing her eyes as if that would somehow improve her hearing. It didn’t. She could hear birds in the trees to their right, and off in the distance the sound of the narrowboat engine phut-phut-phutting, but no crying. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
‘Well, you’re not a cat, of course. Cats can hear things four or five times as far away as humans, and at much higher frequencies.’
‘And it’s a woman? Crying? You’re sure?’
‘Yes. I think she’s on The Kingfisher.’
Lulu looked down the towpath. The Kingfisher was six boats away, dark red with gold trim and a line of solar panels across the roof. She still couldn’t hear anything.
Conrad jumped down off her shoulders and padded along the towpath, his ears focused on The Kingfisher. He reached the narrowboat and stood there, tail twitching. Lulu caught up with him and finally she could hear a soft sobbing.
‘She’s very sad,’ said Conrad.
‘I can hear that.’
‘We should do something.’
‘Oh, no, you can’t go intruding on someone’s personal grief,’ said Lulu. ‘You have no idea what she’s crying about. It could be anything.’
‘Maybe we can help,’ said Conrad. He jumped up onto the rear deck in a smooth, fluid motion, making almost no sound.
‘Conrad, no!’
He ignored her and padded over to the double doors that led down to the cabin.
‘No, you mustn’t!’ hissed Lulu, but she was too late: Conrad had already disappeared. Lulu sighed and put down her shopping bags, not sure what to do. If the woman was upset, it really wasn’t any of their business. After Lulu’s husband had passed away she had been inconsolable for days, for weeks, and for most of that time she had wanted to be alone with her grief. A large part of the grieving process was dealing with thoughts and memories and the feeling of loss, and you had to go through that alone. Yes, it was lovely to have someone with you who cared and who wanted to try to make things better, but some things couldn’t be made better; some things just had to be dealt with.
The crying stopped and Lulu heard a muffled voice, a woman speaking softly. Lulu really wasn’t sure what to do. Narrowboat etiquette was that you never boarded a boat without being asked first. A bit like vampires, who also needed permission to cross a threshold. If she had been visiting a narrowboat friend, then she would have just called out, but Lulu had no idea who was on The Kingfisher. The decision was made for her when a white-haired lady appeared in the doorway, holding Conrad in her arms. ‘Oh, is he yours?’ said the lady. She was stick thin and wearing thick-lensed spectacles. Her long hair was tied back in a ponytail and she had a green quilted waistcoat over a Fair Isle sweater.
‘I think I might be his,’ said Lulu. ‘I’m so sorry that he intruded. He has a mind of his own.’
‘Cats do.’ The woman was stroking Conrad behind the ears and he was clearly loving it, pressing his head against her hand. ‘They walk their own path.’
‘Conrad certainly does that.’
‘Calico cats are almost always female, aren’t they? It’s a gene thing.’
‘They are, but Conrad is a very unusual cat.’
‘He’s lovely,’ said the woman, looking down at him. Her cheeks were wet from tears and her eyes were red.
‘It’s none of my business, but is everything okay?’ asked Lulu.
The woman forced a smile. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I’m a silly old woman, that’s all.’ She sniffed.
‘Oh, I’m sure you’re not,’ said Lulu. ‘My name’s Lulu, by the way.’
‘I’m Jessie,’ said the woman. ‘Well, Jessica really, but everyone calls me Jessie.’
‘Do you like wine, Jessie?’
Jessie frowned. ‘Wine?’
Lulu held up one of the carrier bags. ‘I have a very nice Chardonnay.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ said Jessie. ‘I might not be the best of company.’
‘Well, Conrad seems very happy in your arms, and I do so hate drinking alone.’
Jessie looked at her with tear-filled eyes, then slowly nodded. ‘Chardonnay does sound good.’