JOHNNIE
Johnny stood patiently in line at the cash desk while the woman being served carefully placed her shopping in her wheelie bag before handing the cashier her cheque book. He could sense the impatience of the couple in front of him before they tutted loudly but it didn’t bother him.
‘They should try queuing in a French supermarket,’ a voice behind him said softly. ‘This is so quick compared. Takes hours sometimes over there to do a weekly shop.’
He turned and saw the woman who’d helped him secure Annie on the grid the other week. Probably not a holidaymaker then.
‘Hello. You’re right about French supermarkets – takes forever to do a quick shop.’
‘We both like good French wine though,’ she said, indicating the same bottle in their respective baskets.
‘You know about wine?’
‘Just a bit.’
Johnnie started to place his stuff on the conveyor belt, carefully laying down the wine to avoid it toppling over when the belt jerked forward.
‘Morning, Johnnie,’ the female cashier said, flashing his items through. ‘Everything okay?
‘Fine,’ he answered, handing over some notes. He pocketed his change, picked his shopping up, smiled at the two women and left. Two minutes later, he was loitering outside, wishing the woman would hurry up and appear.
The woman glanced at him and smiled when he fell into step alongside her.
‘As one sailor to another – can I buy you a coffee?’ he said. ‘The Royal is the nearest place if that’s all right with you?’
‘Thank you, Johnnie, that would be lovely.’
‘How do you know my name? Ah …’ Comprehension dawned. ‘Susie on the cash desk. That’s the trouble with being a local – so you’re … ?’
‘Rachel.’
‘Thought you might be a holidaymaker the other day,’ Johnnie said.
She shook her head. ‘No. I live in town now.’
The Harbour Bar was busy as they entered, with both locals and holidaymakers enjoying a mid-morning coffee. One or two of the locals raised their hands in greeting to Johnnie as he went to order their coffees. He saw BB tucked away in a quiet corner, intently studying the local newspaper, oblivious to anyone around him.
Sitting with another women in a place where he and Annie had often had coffee felt strange. Of course he’d been in here often enough in the past year or two with Sabine and friends, but it had been a long time since he’d actually invited a woman to have coffee with him. He stirred his coffee thoughtfully, wondering what to say. BB, on his way out, walked over.
‘Hi, Johnnie, how you doing?’ BB said.
Johnnie stood up and quickly introduced Rachel before saying, ‘Found anywhere to live yet?’
BB shook his head. ‘Been through the papers again today. No luck. Wouldn’t be a problem if I wanted to stay the other side of the river for the summer, but here it’s proving impossible to find anything – even a room rather than an apartment.’
‘I’ve a spare room,’ Rachel said quietly. ‘It has an en suite bathroom, but you’d have to share the kitchen and the sitting room with me.’
Both BB and Johnnie looked at her.
‘Really?’ BB said. ‘I have a feeling you’re about to turn into my Fairy Godmother.’
Rachel laughed. ‘You haven’t seen the room yet and for all you know I might be the stuff nightmares are made off. The landlady from hell.’
‘I doubt that. When can I came and see the room?’ BB said.
‘How about coming for a drink this evening? About 7.30? Give me time to sort things. I haven’t been in the house long and I’ve been using that room as a general dumping ground.’
‘Great. Where are you?’
‘Clarence Hill. You know it?’
As BB nodded and Rachel told him the number, Johnnie found himself thinking, that’s one of the older houses not far from me.
‘See you this evening then.’ And BB was gone.
‘Well that was unexpected,’ Rachel said, drinking her coffee. ‘Thanks for suggesting coming here and introducing me to BB.’
‘He’s just a new acquaintance my sister introduced me to,’ Johnnie said awkwardly. ‘I don’t really know anything about him – he could be a serial killer or anything. Although he seems nice enough,’ he added quickly.
Rachel smiled. ‘Oh, Johnnie, I’m sure he’s not going to murder me in my bed. If he does, I’ll come back and haunt you for introducing us. He’s just an ordinary guy looking for somewhere to stay. Reminds me of my son, although I think he’s a bit older.’
She pushed her empty coffee cup and saucer away. ‘I don’t know you either – but I’m fairly certain you’re okay.’ She laughed at the expression on his face.
‘You have a son?’ Johnnie said.
Rachel nodded. ‘Yes, he lives in France with his family. He’s a great sailor too,’ she added. ‘He’d love your boat – Annie, isn’t she called? It’s been years since I’ve set foot on a wooden boat. They tended to be all fibreglass where we lived.’ She glanced at Johnnie, hesitating, totally unsure whether she should say what she was about to.
‘If you ever need a crew, remember me, won’t you?’
‘Usually sail singlehanded,’ Johnnie said, not mentioning that he preferred it that way since Annie had died. Couldn’t imagine anyone taking her place on the boat. ‘The boat’s named after my late wife.’
But then, to his own surprise, he heard himself adding, ‘Actually, I’ve got to go across to France sometime soon. Not keen on doing the channel single-handed, so I usually get one of the pros from the agency I work for to come with me, but if you’d be interested?’
‘You serious?’ Rachel said. When he nodded she said, ‘I’d love to. I don’t know the north coast of France at all. Just give me twenty-four hours notice and I’ll be there, cap’n.’ She gave him a salute before holding out her hand for him to shake.
‘Right, I’d better get going. Prepare things for my prospective lodger. Thanks for the coffee.’
Johnnie watched her walk out of the restaurant wondering why on earth he hadn’t kept his mouth shut. As he’d shaken her hand, he’d clocked the wedding ring. Hell, he hadn’t even thought to ask if there was a husband on the scene when she mentioned her son. He could only pray there wasn’t – or at least not one who would object to his wife sailing away with another man for a few days. But surely she’d have mentioned a husband if she had one? Especially when she offered BB a room. Oh well, he’d find out on his next trip to France. He’d find out whether she was a real sailor then too.
Rachel might profess to love sailing and tie a good knot, but would she be any good as crew? So long as she could steer a course and winch a sail or two up, everything should be fine. Wouldn’t it?