Page 22 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton

Wobbling precariously, Milly had to let go – it was either that or end up plunging backwards off the boat.

‘Now what!’ she gasped, staring at the oar standing straight up out of the mud like a totem pole - just out of her reach. As she watched, it started to keel over in slow-motion, before plopping backwards into the muddy water.

‘Great,’ she said. The word came out on a bubble of hysterical laughter, and she raised her hands to her head, winding her fingers into her hair as she stared around.

Now what was she going to do?!

As if by magic, the outline of the trawler materialised a little way ahead of her. She was almost there! So close… and yet so far.

The boat was stuck, she’d lost an oar, and she didn’t even have Murray’s phone number so that she could call him and beg for a rescue. Not that she would even if she could. The poor guy had a head injury, for goodness sake!

‘Right… right… only one thing for it!’ she muttered.

There was no alternative. She was going to have to roll up her jeans, take off her shoes and socks, and wade the last few hundred yards. It wasn’t ideal… but then neither was knocking the object of your affection out cold with a bunch of flowers.

Getting over the edge of the boat without the whole thing capsizing turned out to be a lot harder than Milly had been expecting. For an excruciating moment, she found herself folded over the edge, clinging on for dear life with her elbows while holding on tight to her shoes, socks and shopping bag as her toes dipped into the ooze.

‘Eew!’ she squealed.

The bottom was even less solid than she’d been expecting… but at least the water wasn’t too cold.

Straightening up, Milly had to lift one foot high before plunging it back down into the mud to take a step. This was going to take a while… but at least she knew which direction she was heading in – even if she couldn’t see the trawler now that she was out of the boat. She might be close, but the reeds surrounding her made an impenetrable curtain.

The next few steps weren’t too bad. She was making progress even if she looked a bit like a boozed-up tightrope walker - with her hands held high, making sure her shopping bag didn’t take a dip.

Then things got seriously squidgy. Two more steps found Milly sinking up to her knees. It quickly became clear that she hadn’t rolled her jeans up anywhere near far enough, and the smelly, muddy water started to soak into the denim, creeping up her thighs with remarkable speed.

Milly went to take another step forward, wrinkling her nose – only to realise that she was stuck fast. Actually – scratch that… she wasn’t just stuck, she was sinking.

Oops!

Wriggling around, trying to get one leg unstuck, she wobbled precariously. Okay, that wasn’t good – she could do without faceplanting right into the mess.

‘Murray Eddington, it’s lucky you’re cute!’ she grumbled. ‘Now what am I going to do?!’

CHAPTER 10

MURRAY

The hot water cascading over his shoulders felt blissful. Murray had already been in the shower for what felt like an age. He really should get out… but frankly, after more than two days spent in the same clothes, he was going to make the most of feeling clean again.

Ten more minutes, then he’d re-trace his steps and grab the trail of clothes he’d left strewn across the trawler and dump them into his laundry basket. If he had the energy.

Scrunching his eyes closed, Murray turned his face upwards and let the water trickle through his hair. He’d already washed it, carefully avoiding the bump as he’d gingerly massaged his scalp. It was still decidedly tender to the touch, and even the gentle patter of the water was almost too much to bear. He probably should have left it for a day or two, but frankly, the eau-de-hospital had to go.

Okay… that was as much as his head could take! Murray turned again – and then paused. He opened his eyes, going completely still for a second. He could swear he’d just heard something…

It almost sounded like someone calling his name… but that was impossible. He had to be hearing things – which wasn’t a good sign! There was no other explanation for it, though.

There was never anyone around out here in the middle of the marshes - that was the joy of the place. The trawler was a good distance from the town itself, and it was very rare sounds travelled that far – and then only when the wind was coming from that direction and there was a particularly rowdy party going on in the Dolphin and Anchor.

‘Probably just a bird,’ he muttered.

Shrugging, Murray leaned one hand against the wall. It was getting pretty steamy in there now – almost time to call it a day. He’d get dry, gather his clothes and then maybe treat himself to a nap before indulging in a coffee, and then…

Wait – there it was again!

Murray quickly turned the water off, cocking his head to one side, barely daring to breathe.

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