Page 23 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton

‘Help! Murray? You there? Heeeelp!’

Okay – that definitely wasn’t inside his head.

Clambering out of the shower, Murray quickly grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist. He hurried out into his bedroom and then paused for a brief second.

Should he grab some clothes?

No.

Whoever it was out there calling for him had sounded more than a little bit desperate. Dashing through the living room, he headed straight for the door and burst out onto the deck – and spotted the problem immediately.

The sight in front of him brought him to an abrupt halt.

It was Milly. She was up to her knees in mud… and it was pretty clear she couldn’t move an inch.

He sucked in a breath, wondering if he was hallucinating. For the life of him, he couldn’t think what she’d be doing all the way out there in the middle of the marshes!

‘Hi?’ she said.

The single, uncertain word made him snap back to reality. She needed his help. Best he got her out of the mud now and asked questions later.

Glancing down at his towel, he let out a sigh. This wasn’t quite the way he’d pictured their first official meeting… then again, neither was getting knocked out by a bunch of flowers, and there was a good chance she’d witnessed that. It looked like they were destined to keep meeting when the embarrassment-factor was dialled up to the maximum setting.

As much as he’d really like to go and put some clothes on, he could hardly ask her to hang tight until he’d got changed, could he? After all, this was an emergency!

Okay, maybe not an emergency in the usual sense of the word. There weren’t crocodiles out there or anything like that… and it looked like she’d already sunk about as far as she was going to go. Even so, it didn’t seem fair to disappear again.

‘Erm… Murray?’ This time her voice had a definite edge of concern to it, and he realised he hadn’t said anything to her yet. He was just standing there, staring at her.

‘Milly?’ he called.

‘Yeah,’ she shouted back, sounding both relieved, resigned and a bit sheepish. She added in a slight shrug which he found ridiculously endearing. ‘Caught you at a bad time?’ she added.

‘You’ll just have to put up with being rescued by someone wearing a towel,’ said Murray, returning her shrug with one of his own.

He might have been wrong, but he could swear she’d just let out a funny little squeak. She was probably just desperate to get out of the chilly mud and back onto dry land.

‘Erm… okay… let’s think,’ said Murray, staring around him for a moment, doing his best to ignore his throbbing head. ‘I know – let’s start with you throwing me your shoes and socks. You’re going to need your hands free for the rescue mission.’

‘Okay…’ said Milly, sounding a bit unsure. ‘Here - catch!’

The balled-up socks came hurtling towards him, and Murray caught them easily before tossing them onto the deck of the trawler. He managed to snatch the first trainer out of mid-air with no problem, but then Milly threw the second one a bit too hard. It came hurtling towards him, and he just managed to duck in time to avoid a second bump on the head.

‘Sorry!’ she gasped as the trainer bounced harmlessly onto the deck just behind him. ‘Your poor head!’

‘It’s fine – you missed!’ he chuckled. He’d been far too caught up with making sure that his towel stayed put to worry about the flying trainer too much.

‘What about my bag?’ she said.

‘I’ll grab it from you in a sec,’ he said. ‘Be right back!’

Murray turned and quickly fetched two wide, wooden planks he used when he needed to work on the hull. Then, with some careful manoeuvring, he placed them on top of the mud – creating a pathway between the trawler and Milly.

The planks were wide enough to spread Murray’s weight so that he wouldn’t sink – and they were just about long enough that he should be able to grab her hands.

‘You’re not seriously coming out here in a towel?’ said Milly.

Murray raised an eyebrow, doing his best not to laugh at the little splatters of mud that now adorned her cheeks. No one should look this cute while stuck up to their knees in marsh water.

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