A Country Girl. Nancy Carson
of the towpath, while its hind legs flailed to and fro, trying to find some purchase on the smooth blue bricks that formed the edge. At the same time, the men pulled on the rope. For a moment it looked as though the horse would fail and hurt itself as it tumbled backwards into the cut again. But miraculously, it made it, and a loud cheer rang through the spring air.
‘Thank God,’ Hannah exclaimed with a sigh of relief.
Algie kept his promise to the horse, which was now only concerned with acquiring the carrot, and popped it into its mouth. ‘Good lad,’ he said, patting its neck. ‘I’m just sorry as I caused you so much trouble in the first place. Now enjoy your carrots, ’cause they was sure to be for your master’s dinner.’
‘Well, at least you got him out,’ Marigold said, sidling up beside him. ‘That was a good idea to tempt him with a carrot.’
He turned to her. ‘I didn’t think for a minute that it’d work,’ he admitted, relieved and surprised that she was still speaking to him. ‘But I reckoned it was worth a try. I felt I had to do something, since it was me that caused all the upset in the first place. And I know that horses like carrots better than anything.’
‘It’s a good job as yo’ did,’ Seth Bingham interjected, his pique subsiding. ‘Else Lord knows how we would’ve got the poor bugger out.’
‘I’m really sorry, Mr Bingham,’ Algie remarked with earnest repentance. ‘The chain came off me bike just as I was going past the horse. It caused me to fall into him, and it startled him, I reckon.’
‘Did you hurt yourself, lad?’
Algie grinned self-consciously. ‘Gave me taters a right bang.’
‘Aye, well it’s over and done now. Now all we need do is change into some dry clothes. Hannah, find me another pair o’ trousers and a shirt, and chuck me a towel, eh?’
‘I feel I ought to make it up to you, Mr Bingham,’ Algie said. ‘To say how sorry I am.’
‘Like I said, lad, it’s over and done with.’
‘Let me buy you a drink in the Bottle and Glass.’
Seth managed a smile at last. ‘If yo’ insist. But we’n gotta get there fust. I’ll gi’ the hoss five minutes to get over the shock afore I get him to haul we there. The poor bugger was frit to death.’
‘I’d better get home and change into dry clothes as well, Mr Bingham.’
‘That you had, lad. Is your two-wheeler any the wuss for having took a look in the cut?’
‘It’ll dry out,’ Algie replied with resignation. ‘It’ll very likely dry out as I ride it home. I just hope the rust don’t set in.’
‘Aye, well just be careful where you’m a-going next time.’
‘I will, Mr Bingham. I promise.’
Algie retrieved his bike from the towpath and inspected it. As he reinstalled the errant chain on its sprockets, Marigold stood beside him, watching and waiting.
‘I don’t suppose you want to come a walk with me now, do you, Marigold, after making a fool of meself like I have?’
‘Why should it make any difference?’ she said pleasantly. ‘It was an accident. Anybody could see that. At first I thought it was funny, till I saw Victoria was in trouble. Then, when that ninny pulled us into the bank and the tiller swung round …’ She put her hands to her face with the horror of recalling it. ‘Well, our Billy’s lucky he didn’t get his head wopped off. Anyway, Algie, you did well to get Victoria out.’
‘Victoria? Is that what you call the horse? Victoria?’
‘Yes. After the queen. What’s wrong with that?’
‘But it ain’t a mare, is it?’ He grinned amiably, amused at the incongruity of the horse’s name and its gender. ‘Even I can see it’s got a doodle.’
Marigold chuckled at his irreverence. ‘The horse don’t know it’s a girl’s name,’ she reasoned.
He chuckled. ‘I suppose not. Anyway, if it’s good enough for a queen, it’s good enough for a horse, I reckon. Male or no.’
While Algie was at the Bottle and Glass trying to get back into Seth Bingham’s good books, Marigold picked up her mother’s basket and made her way to the lock-keeper’s cottage. She tapped on the door and Kate answered it.
‘Oh, hello, Marigold,’ Kate greeted pleasantly. ‘Our Algie ain’t here, he’s at the Bottle and Glass.’
Marigold blushed at the implication. ‘I’ve come to see Mrs Stokes, not Algie,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something for her.’
‘You’d better come in then.’
Marigold followed Kate into the scullery where Clara was at the sink. She greeted Marigold with a warm smile, which was returned.
‘Hello, Mrs Stokes … I just wanted to bring you these …’ She placed the basket on the table and invited Clara, by her demeanour alone, to peer into it.
‘Eggs!’ Clara declared. She looked up at Marigold and smiled. ‘For me?’
‘For being so kind, Mrs Stokes. For letting me have those choolips for me mom last time we was through here. She loved ’em, you know. As soon as I gave them to her she put them in a vase and they took pride o’ place in the Sultan’s cabin. They lasted ever so long, as well. She was ever so pleased with them. So when I knew as they’d got some new-laid eggs at a farm up by the viaduct when we came past this morning, I thought getting you a dozen would be a good way of saying thank you.’
‘You didn’t have to do that, Marigold,’ Clara said, touched by her thoughtfulness, ‘but it’s very kind of you. Thank you. It’s a lovely thought. Algie will enjoy having eggs for his breakfast in the morning, especially since it’s you that’s brought ’em. So will Mr Stokes.’
‘Did you hear about Algie falling in the cut this morning, and taking our horse with him?’
Clara laughed. ‘He told me all about it. I can just picture it.’
‘The silly devil,’ Kate chimed in with scorn. ‘I suppose he was acting the goat.’
‘It was an accident, Kate,’ Marigold said gently, immediately coming to Algie’s defence. ‘He couldn’t help it. It could’ve been much worse than it was, but it was an accident. Nobody was hurt, thank goodness. Him and me dad just took a look in the cut with the horse, and got wet.’
‘And now they’re celebrating the fact in the public, I suppose,’ Kate replied.
‘I hope so,’ Marigold said. ‘It’s just a pity our poor horse can’t be there with ’em as well. I think he deserves a drink after what he’s been through.’
Washed, dried and wearing his Sunday best suit, Algie Stokes left the Bottle and Glass after imbibing more beer than he was used to, in his endeavour to redeem himself in the eyes of Seth Bingham. He stepped unsteadily round the back of the public house, and winced at the bright afternoon sunshine that lent a dazzling sparkle to the canal’s murky water. He headed at once for the pair of narrowboats moored abreast of each other in the basin. The Odyssey was furthest from him.
‘Marigold!’ he called.
Marigold emerged from the Sultan. She stooped down to say goodbye to her mother, who was below in the cabin. She saw that Algie was wearing his best Sunday suit, his silver Albert stretched across his waistcoat.
‘How did you get on with me dad?’ she asked, clambering out of the narrowboat onto the towpath.
‘We’re