Bumping Uglies

Chapter Twenty Eight

"This is a risk, isn't it?" I asked Ty.

"What, going to the moorings, or our cover story?" he shot back.

I hadn't thought about it that way before, but as soon as he mentioned it the four of us posing as a double-date on a romantic autumn walk did seem fraught with danger.

The situation on the farm had not really improved. Sophie and Elira were not so much talking as snarling. Ty had made himself scarce and let me tell you; when that guy goes AWOL, he's really gone.

When I announced over dinner that we needed to check out the mooring site and the winding hole because I believed that Charon's boat would be there, both women loudly proclaimed that they would not be left behind this time. I didn't have the energy for an argument, plus if two heads are better than one, it stands to reason that four are twice as good again.

For his part, Ty had held his own counsel, but I saw him draw a deep but silent sigh.

I knew how he felt.

So it was that, not wanting to appear like the corporeal cast of Scooby Doo, sans canine, we decided that we would masquerade as two couples out to enjoy the air.

Ty hadn't been entirely enthusiastic about the idea, but he hadn't shot it down either.

As it transpired, any idiot would have noticed the tension between Elira - who marched down the towpath, dragging Ty along by the hand behind her - and Sophie who tiptoed around muddy puddles with a face on her like a slapped arse.

I wondered if all double-dates were like this. I suspected that many were worse.

We were walking the towpath just over a mile away from the winding hole and moorings, approaching from the direction opposite to the Tunnel of Love. The idea was that we allow any casual observers to actually see us walking, and to give us the chance to spot anything in the approach to the mooring site.

If it were not for the air of open discontent being displayed by at least fifty percent of our party, I would actually be enjoying the experience. It struck me that this was the kind of thing that real couples might do. I mean, I didn't really know, but it certainly seemed like it.

What's more, this part of the canal was quite pleasant and encompassed a long stretch that bordered an urban park. The water was a green-black colour and as foreboding as ever, but there were signs of nature in the tweeting of birds in the trees and hedges and the occasional glug of bubbles released by a surfacing fish. The leaves had turned from green to a dozen hues of russet and lay strewn about the path and the water in places, looking like a smattering of temporary lily pads.

Ty had paused to tie his bootlace, or to pretend to at least. Elira was standing twenty metres ahead, hip cocked, and fists deployed in a double teapot stance.

"How's it going then?" I asked, glancing nervously over my shoulder to check whether Sophie was in earshot. She had paused and was consulting the folded parchment of her map. "Enjoying your date?"

"There's nothing wrong with her grip," Ty rubbed at vague red marks on his hand where Elira had been clamped to him. "But I suppose you already knew that!"

I just glared at him.

"Sorry. It's not far now. Hopefully the boat will be parked up, abandoned, with Richard tied and gagged in the cabin," Ty replied, completing the bow of his laces.

"What if the boat is not abandoned?" I asked.

"They are not likely to start a shooting war in broad daylight. There will be other boats at the moorings, and it looked on my phone like there is a small pub and convenience shop," Ty said calmly.