A soft thump starts in her right temple and fear rushes in as if on the tide. All around her the air begins to move, an almost imperceptible quiver but growing now and in the darkness she can see something curling up from under the door like a snake. The wood burner, she thinks, feeling panicky all of a sudden. I forgot to close the door to the wood burner. That’s a first, she thinks. Having grown up on a solid fuel heated narrowboat she’s always been particularly vigilant. And hadn’t she spotted a fault in the backplate? It’s because I’ve been so distracted, she thinks, I’m not thinking straight. Leaping from the bed she rushes out into the saloon and stops in her tracks. The door to the wood burner is shut tight. Through the glass she can see the logs smouldering. She takes a deep breath. The burning smell is powerful now. She turns and frantically scopes around the saloon, then moves to the stern, checking the shower room and Honor’s bedroom. It’s only there, turning, that she sees the yellow flicker of light on the black water. The wind blows up, sending a thin veil of ashy smoke across the window. The whole of the engine compartment is on fire.

Chapter 52

Honor

On their way back from the restaurant to the van Alex’s phone rings. He unzips his jacket pocket. They take a few paces together and then he stops dead, his face is ashy, the jawline ticking, the eyes raw, mouth tightly compressed.

‘What’s wrong?’ Honor says, alarmed.

‘We have to go back to the boats.’ His face turns to hers but he will not look her in the eye. ‘It’ll be quicker if I drive. I know the shortcuts.’ He holds out a hand. ‘Give me the keys.’

They are off, at tremendous speed, ducking down a side street and into an area of office buildings. Several times she asks why they are having to rush but he will say only that there’s a possible problem with the boat and that everything is most likely fine and perhaps it might be a good idea to call Nevis, before returning his attention to the road. So Honor calls but gets no response. ‘Probably asleep,’ she says out loud. Alex doesn’t answer. The city, which only a few hours ago seemed small, its outlines visible from the high places, the lights petering out into the darkness of the hills around, has lost its shape and billowed outwards. She wishes she had a giant’s legs and could straddle the roads and the lights and roundabouts and one-way systems.