A survey had been conducted and Val had purchased from the council a twenty-year lease on the quarter acre of land that included both boatsheds, with the proviso she be responsible for their maintenance. It had been that simple.

The next step had proved not quite so simple, because it involved Edie.

‘What do you mean I own this place?’ Edie had asked, confused, when Val had paid her an unexpected visit. ‘This mine already,’ she said, looking around at the boatshed where they sat drinking tea from enamel mugs. The shed now boasted two upright chairs. ‘Me and Jill, we bin living ’ere for years.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of that, Edie,’ Val had patiently replied, ‘but without actually owning the boatshed, you’ve always run the risk of being chucked out.’ As her friend continued to stare at her blankly, she went on to explain. ‘You know, if the owner turned up and wanted to have it back.’

‘Yeh.’ Edie nodded slowly. She’d never really thought about this before. ‘Yeh, I s’pose you’re right there. That why these blokes bin out ’ere, measurin’ things up, then, is it?’

‘That’s right. You can’t be chucked out now, you see. I bought the sheds, both of them, and I’m giving them to you. They’re yours. You own them.’

‘Oh.’ Edie looked more than confused, she looked positively puzzled. ‘That real nice of you, Val.’

If Val was expecting a ‘thank you’ she was destined for disappointment. Edie’s expression clearly said, Why?

‘They wouldn’t let me buy the land though, I could only lease it,’ Val went on, ‘so you don’t actually own the land.’

That part to Edie was abundantly clear. ‘Course I don’t own the land,’ she said as if speaking to a simpleton, ‘nobody own the land. The land own us.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Val replied. Blackfella logic, she thought, you’ve got to respect that.

‘Why you doin’ this, Val?’ Edie finally blurted out what was uppermost in her mind. ‘Why you buyin’ me these sheds?’

‘Because I want to.’

‘I don’ need charity, you know.’ The suspicion that had lurked in her shrewd, black eyes was now replaced by a touch of belligerence. ‘I don’ take hand-outs from no-one. Not even from you, mate.’

‘I’m not offering you charity, Edie.’ Having suspected things might possibly go in this direction, Val had a strategy in place.

‘Then why you do this?’ Edie demanded.

There was so much Val could have said, so much she would like to have said. Because of the bastard of a life you’ve had, Edie … Because you’re a bloody good woman … Because you deserve better … Because you’re my friend …

But she didn’t say any of those things.

‘It’s a business proposition, Edie,’ she said. ‘A business proposition between you and me. We’re going to run a laundry. A proper laundry.’