Instead of the shabby old boat she’d been expecting, Nessy wasgleaming, from the polished burgundy woodwork to the cushioned seats around the edge of the deck.
‘She’s beautiful!’ she said, walking to the hatch to peer inside.
‘Let me show you the living area,’ he said, leading the way down into the body of the wood-panelled cabin.
The smell of Italian herbs and tomatoes came from a small stove, beside it a fully laid table, crystal glasses glimmering in the dapple of a single candle.
‘How enchanting,’ she said.
‘They design these boats to get the most out of them. This table lowers, and I can make this into a double bed if I have visitors.’
She laughed. ‘And do many people want to stay?’
‘No. One of my sisters came once, but on seeing this, she found a local hotel.’ He grinned.
‘You never mentioned any sisters. Are they as warm and friendly as you?’ she joked, walking through to a living room area with a built-in sofa lit with coloured wall lights, the tiny panes in blue and green.
‘My elder sister? She’s a laugh a minute,’ he said ironically. ‘She came down after the wedding that didn’t happen, telling me that I had to buy a proper house in the suburbs. She said it would put down roots for my future.’ He gave something in the oven a quick check. ‘Roots are the last thing I want! Why did I join the diplomatic corps if I wanted to be a good boy and settle down?’
‘Hence the canal boat.’
‘At least here I can pretend I’m somewhere exotic.’ He gestured for her to take a seat, and then took a large, bubbling dish from the oven. ‘Do you like tortellini?’
‘Wonderful! I’m impressed.’
‘Alas, a cook I am not!’ He took out a bottle of red wine. ‘Mrs Marino from the café made it for me. I’m one of her favourite customers, Italian being one of my languages.’
‘I bet you charm all the foreign ladies around here.’
He laughed as the cork came out with a small pop. ‘I think they see me more as an errant son who needs feeding up.’ He poured wine into two glasses, the pungent, fruity aroma mingling with the smell of therich sauce as he began to spoon it onto their plates. ‘And they like to help with the messy business of romance, too. I’ve lost count of the number of girls who’ve been introduced to me by various café and shop owners.’
‘And none of them appeal?’
‘Not for now. Once the coronation is over, perhaps. I’ve been promised Rome, at long last.’ He raised his glass.
As she watched him, she felt a sudden jolt that she’d miss his company, their convivial banter. But more than that. She’d misshim.
His eyes lingered on hers, and she couldn’t help wondering if he were thinking the same thing.
But then he seemed to shake himself and asked, ‘What about you, Miranda? The palace will want to move you into the planning office, I’d say, for the queen’s Coronation Tour. It’s an organizational behemoth, apparently, twelve countries in six months, from the Caribbean to Africa and the Far East. It’ll be right up your street.’
Miranda thought of her flight home to New York, the phone calls to her friends to find her next guest room to stay in. Would she lose touch with her London friends? She’d have to if they found out she was J. Marshall.
She put on a smile. ‘Ah, but would they let a mere woman be entrusted with the Coronation Tour?’
‘I can only imagine the fresh nerves you could shred in that department.’ He laughed.
After dinner, he offered her a tour of the boat. ‘There isn’t a lot to see, but it’s not every day you find yourself on a canal barge, especially one as luxurious as Nessy.’
Beyond the living room area, a narrow corridor led to the bedroom, a double bed covered with a thick yellow-gold quilt. ‘I bought it in Katmandu.’
‘You were in Nepal?’
His eyes lit up. ‘Up in the Himalayas, one of the most spectacular places I’ve been.’
Miranda had always thought her own life brave and adventurous,taking the New York journalism scene by storm. But this, this was the rest of the world. ‘It must be fascinating seeing different cultures.’
‘It helps me try to unravel why human beings are the way we are.’ He took down a photograph, and there he was, smiling on a mountain pass with two Nepalese men. ‘Underneath, we’re all the same.’
