Chapter 30
Bunty stood on the deck breathing in the fresh air while Perry steered the boat.
‘Ah, doesn’t half lift the spirits!’ she exclaimed, taking in the canal-side scenery.
‘It does. You can’t beat a good trip onThe Merry Perry. It’s good for the soul,’ agreed Perry. He missed taking himself off on his boat, having previously lived in it. The nomadic lifestyle had suited him well when he’d been single. He admitted it wasn’t ideal for everybody though, and certainly saw the advantages of living in a cottage now that he was getting older.
Perry had been pleased with the way Bunty had taken to the narrowboat, like a duck to water, however only in small doses. It was pretty strenuous handling the locks and just jumping on and off onto dry land could be tiring. Not to mention having to stop and refuel or replenish the water tank. And as for emptying the cassette toilet, well, that was well and trulyhisjob! But once all the chores were complete and they could relax, chugging along the peaceful waterways was heaven.
After a few hours, they pulled into a mooring point on Skipton marina and tied the boat up to a post.
‘Where shall we go first?’ asked Bunty with gusto.
That’s what Perry loved about her, the way she threw herself into things, lock, stock and barrel. She may be getting older, but was still very much young at heart. They both were. He cast his mind back to years ago, when they were in their early twenties, and not a lot had changed. Bunty was still as beautiful to him now as she was then.
‘How about the castle?’ he suggested, smiling affectionately at her.
‘Good idea!’
After calling for a coffee first, they headed in the direction of Skipton Castle. They climbed up the slope and through the grand gated entrance where they were met by a tour guide, who informed them that, ‘Skipton Castle is one of the most complete and well-preserved castles in England.’ They were guided through its stone walls holding memories of the past, from medieval times to the civil war. They viewed the banqueting hall, kitchens, bedchambers and privies; climbed from the depths of the dungeon to the top storey of the watchtower.
‘It’s tiring work, this,’ puffed Perry. It made narrowboat life seem easy work.
‘I know,’ replied Bunty, whose feet were aching.
After the castle tour they went for a well-deserved sit down and lunch.
‘Oh, look, the church has a tearoom,’ said Bunty, pointing to a sign in the churchyard. ‘Let’s try it.’
‘Very quaint,’ remarked Perry as they entered the hall. A piano was playing, and good ladies of the parish attended on red gingham-clothed tables.
‘Isn’t it?’ cooed Bunty with glee, glad of the find. She was even more pleased upon seeing the display of homemade cakes, as was Perry.
‘Your usual?’ he asked with a grin, spotting the coffee and walnut creation.
Bunty nodded. ‘Absolutely. Let’s have a sandwich first though.’
‘Tuna mayonnaise?’ he replied, reading her like a book.
‘Right again,’ she laughed.
Bunty sat back and watched Perry order the food, sharing banter with the ladies behind the counter. He still had it, she thought fondly. Today he was wearing his favourite paisley waistcoat and jaunty neckerchief. She admired his thick greyhair and the way he moved so fluidly; no bent back or creaking knees with him. Perry Scholar was very much still in his prime she concluded.
Later, they mulled amongst the market stalls on the high street and finished up at the Town Hall. A programme of events was advertised at the entrance, showing the performances it hosted.
‘Oh, look, there’s a play on tonight,’ said Bunty, pointing to the poster. It was some kind of spoof detective drama, judging by the picture depicting a couple of actors. One was wearing a deerstalker hat and smoking a pipe, the other holding a china cup and saucer, waving a biscuit. It was entitledWho Dunk it?
‘Let’s go,’ chuckled Perry, immediately relating with the slapstick humour it promised.
‘Let’s!’ gushed Bunty.
As they walked back to the marina they passed several artisan shops; from locally made wicker baskets to cast iron wood burners, the place sold many unique, handcrafted wares. Bunty couldn’t resist stopping at a toy shop.
‘We must buy something for the twins,’ she said, directing them inside.
They were spoilt for choice. It was an Aladdin’s cave of every toy imaginable. In the end, Bunty plumped for a soft Peter Rabbit and Flopsy Bunny.
In the evening they decided to have a late supper after the play.
