‘Great,’ I say, keeping my eye-roll to myself. I’m not taken in by casual words like ‘might’ and ‘bump’ and ‘wander’. Plum’s been ‘accidentally’ colliding with Joe on an hourly basis since Tuesday. The official line is she’s on Operation Siren Phase 2, finding out whathisgame is, and she couldn’t be putting any more effort in.
She can’t stop gushing about him either. ‘He loves animals. Apparently, his family have the same Portuguese Water Dogs the Obamas have. They have webbed toes and love to swim in the sea because they were bred to help fishermen …’ She breaks off and stares at me, startled, then frowns. ‘Jeez, sorry, Clems, they’re your family too. Shit, that’stooweird, isn’t it? Me knowing about them when you don’t.’
I pull a face. ‘It’s my choice, but maybe that’s why half-brothers should be off limits? At least for the time being.’ While I love how the flat has brought me closer to Laura, the photos and the letter turning my insides upside down is the part I like the least. The more I want the Marlows to go away, the faster they’re closing in from every side. Somehow I wasn’t prepared for Joe to be a three-dimensional person with backstory and details and dogs with duck feet. Complete with gallery owners in – cliché alert here – hot pursuit. With the emphasis on the heat.
Plum sighs. ‘He’s really nice, you’d like him.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry, that’s not what you want to hear. It’s uncanny though – that frown you’re doing now, he does the same.’
This time around I’m ready for it. ‘I don’t frown.’
‘Not much, you don’t.’ Her face splits into a grin.
To move this on I give Plum a nudge and point at the boat with windows and a blue stripe around the top that’s anchored twenty yards away from the quay. ‘Look, Nell, George and Charlie are out on the back now.’ I move closer to point them out. ‘How the hell am I going to clamber from that tiny dinghy onto the big thing?’ When the others went on ahead with the cool boxes, I dipped back to the end of the queue hoping I might get overlooked and left on the shore. Changing into my Converse at the last minute turned out to be a great tactic.
Plum gives a throaty chortle. ‘Good thing you’ve got your pretty plimmies on, imagine making that leap in your platforms. You can’t put it off any longer, there’s only three of you left to go now.’ She pulls me into a hug then gives me a determined shove towards the steps. ‘You’d better hurry, you don’t want to get left behind.’
‘Don’t I?’ I give Diesel a pat and flash her a rueful grin as I go down the steps.
She laughs. ‘Careful, don’t fall in before you set off.’ She swaps the shoe bag into her other hand so she can wave. ‘You might love it. You didn’t want to come to St Aidan remember, and look how well that’s worked out.’
I ignore the irony of that and grin at Jed as he hangs onto a rope holding the boat steady. ‘Hi, I’m Clemmie.’ Then I take a deep breath and lunge for the dinghy. It gives a lurch as my weight hits it and as I collapse on the plank seat my cardigan tails land in the water sloshing around in the boat bottom.
As I hold one side up and wring it out into the harbour, Plum shouts: ‘Good thing it’s not cashmere.’
I’m scrunched up with my chin on my knees so it has to be said. ‘I was hoping it would be more like theRiovideo.’
Jed laughs. ‘Wait ’til you get aboard, the shipmates onGone with the Windmake Simon Le Bon look sad and boring.’
‘Fab.’ I wring out the other side of my cardi and look back to shout to Plum again, but she’s turned away. Ten yards along the harbour I spot the reason why. He’s wearing a crumpled flowery shirt that could be made from my favourite daisy dress and his dark ginger curls are caught up in what George would call a ‘man bun’. And whatever Plum’s saying about frowns, I can’t see any evidence of any as he drops his hand on her shoulder and comes in for a peck on the cheek.
Two other hapless singles flop on board, and find a dry corner to stow their back packs. As they bump down onto the plank next to me from their shrieks it’s obvious it’s the nervous ones who’ve hung back until last.
Jed picks up the oars and pushes off from the side. ‘Welcome aboard, ladies. Everyone ready?’
As the women next to me wail their replies I only hope Nell knows what she’s letting herself in for having these two on her crew. Being deafened by banshee screams and exchanging ‘What the hell?’ eye rolls gives Jed and I an immediate camaraderie. He’s pushed off and he’s rowing backwards now, and after a final wave to Plum, Diesel and her plus one I turn around with my hands clamped over my ears to see Charlie, George and Nell still waving madly from the back of the cruiser.
It’s only when the banshee screams subside halfway across to the cruiser that I pick up the barking on the shore. Back on the quayside Diesel’s pulling furiously on the lead, woofing wildly while Plum waves her arms. Then Diesel makes a mad lunge and as Plum falls forwards my shoe bag flies through the air and splashes into the harbour. But there’s no time to call out because a second later in a blur of paws and legs Diesel accelerates towards the edge, hurls himself off, and nose dives downwards in a graceful arc.
‘Diesel!’ I couldn’t be wailing louder if it was my child who’d done a kamikaze off the quayside. There’s a huge splash as he hits the water, then as the wake of waves spreads outwards he disappears under the oily brown surface. For the first time in my life I’m actually glad I spent all those months when I was sixteen almost getting my lifeguards’ certificate. After miles of batting up and down St Aidan swimming baths wearing trainers, Clueless pyjamas and Harry’s towelling dressing gown, swimming in denim shorts and a vest will be a piece of pee.
As the banshee screams start up again I wrench off my Converse, whip off my cardi, stand up, note where the bubbles are. Then I fling myself over the edge of the boat. Freezing doesn’t begin to cover it. My gasp as the water closes over my head drives every bit of air out of my lungs and for a moment I’m blinded by the cold. I push my way back to the surface and get my head together. Then as I shake back my hair and start to swim towards the spot where Diesel sank, he surfaces too and starts paddling towards me.
‘Clemmie, Clemmie! Diesel! Clemmie!’ The shouts are flying from the cruiser and the dinghy. There’s yelling from the shore and screaming too. Then more splashing as another figure plunges off the harbour edge and starts streaking through the water.
Jed’s shouts are calmer than the others and clearer. ‘Swim towards the dingy, Clemmie, the dog’s coming to you, we’ll pull him in.’
He’s right. As I circle round, Diesel comes towards me, his head, whiskers and black nose poking out of the water, his legs doing slow motion running under the water. By the time we get close to the dinghy we’re doing a laid-back breast stroke and we’re so relaxed we could be out for an afternoon leisure swim.
‘Okay, Clemmie, you’re doing well, not far now.’ Jed sounds like he’s got this.
The other jumper is slicing through the water, and he arrives at the dinghy seconds ahead of us. As Diesel paddles alongside and gives him a lick on the face, he shoulders Diesel out of the water. There’s a scrabbling of paws, and a shower of shimmering water droplets as Jed hauls him aboard.
‘Great work, Clemmie, he’s in.’
I hang on to the dinghy’s side and swipe the water out of my eyes. ‘Phew. It’s probably easier if I swim back to shore.’ If I clamber aboard, I’ll probably capsize them all.
Jed laughs. ‘Swim alongside us, we don’t want him jumping again. It’s definitely you he was swimming to.’
‘Brill.’ As I look sideways and see the other jumper hanging onto the dinghy next to me my stomach lurches. It’s like I’m looking at myself in the mirror after a shower. And even though the fabric clinging to his super muscular shoulders is soaking there’s a definite trace of flowers. Of all the harbours in all the world, my half-brother has to end up with me in this one.
