Bloom and Beast

Beast wagged his tail and whined, black butt firmly on the metal stern, tan muzzle pointed up at his favourite person.

“Go inside, you’ll get drenched.” Heidi pointed down the steps into the cabin of the narrowboat.

Beast stood, shook raindrops off his black coat and sat back down with a yawn. Heidi reached a wrinkled hand into the pocket of her waxed jacket and pulled out a couple of broken biscuits.

“Crazy mutt.”

The rottweiler licked the treats from between Heidi’s snaggy nails and allowed her to ruffle his fur. But then his ears pricked and his head cocked to one side. A flash of lightning strobed the tree-lined tow path and Beast let out a yap worthy of a much smaller dog. He scampered through the doors to shelter as a roll of thunder growled overhead.

“Wuss.” Still holding the tiller firmly, Heidi fiddled with her hearing aids, then took a phone from her pocket. “Is that the Boathouse Pub? It’s Heidi Bloom. Two minutes away. Open the shutter, will ya? Yes, The Bloom and Beast, forty-foot bright red barge, can’t miss us.” She hung up.

Just coming into view, round the bend, was the red brick of the converted factory, rising from the water level on the port side of the boat. The canal carried on past the rear of the now public house, but it also forked off and through the building in a curious way. A huge, thick, plastic shutter, like a giant hazy window, was down over the archway that the canal ran under. It protected the pub inside from the weather, but the shutter was starting to lift.

“Beast, get up here. You’ll want to see this.”

The dog glared upward from the bottom step and refused to come any further. Another flash of lightning made him shudder.

The shutter lifted away from the surface of the canal and disappeared up inside the brickwork somehow, opening the archway to allow the boat in. Heidi slowed the inboard engine, dropping her speed to a crawl, and expertly handled the Bloom and Beast round and through the arch.

The water level sat considerably lower than the floor of the pub. A quaint wooden bridge took drinkers from the pedestrian entrance over the canal to get their beer.

A middle-aged man in a black shirt waved Heidi through from the tow path inside, though she was perfectly capable of working out where to moor. There was another boat already there and only space for two.

“I’m Harry, the landlord. You must be Heidi.” He held out a mildly patronising hand to steady his guest off her boat.

“I’m Heidi, the captain.” She pushed his hand away. “I can get myself ashore. Just need the crew. Beast!”

“Those are lovely flowers on your roof.”

“They’re my favourite nasturtiums; don’t you touch them.”

Beast’s head emerged from below deck, sniffing the air and glancing around.

“Well, I haven’t got all day.” Heidi clicked her fingers at the dog, and he slunk up the steps onto the stern. “Come on.” Beast stepped off the boat onto the tow path.

“You didn’t mention a dog, Mrs Bloom. He’ll have to be on a lead at all times in the pub.”

“Not a problem. And that’s Miss Bloom. Or Captain Heidi.” Heidi pulled a leather lead from her pocket and clipped it onto Beast’s collar. Then she promptly let go of her end and let it drag on the ground. “How do we get to the bar?”

Harry puffed out his cheeks and pointed to a set of wooden steps leading to the floor level of the pub. The three of them made their way upwards, under a spectacular display of fairy lights across the industrial beams of the wooden ceiling. The bar area opened out beautifully before them. It had rustic tables set with candles in little jars, and the specials menu was hand-chalked in perfect italics on a large blackboard to one side. While Heidi took in the sights, Harry pulled a lever that lowered the shutter again.

“You best not have bumped my boat,” said a greying man cradling a pint of bitter, as Heidi passed his table. “Freshly painted she is. The Painted Lady. I get her a new coat every year; it was just done last week. And don’t bring that hound near me. I can’t stand stinkin’ dogs.”

By way of reply, Heidi dropped a dog biscuit on the man’s backpack and watched while Beast licked it off.

The man grunted and snatched his rucksack away. “You did that on purpose!”

“Calm down, Max. I’m sure Miss Bloom didn’t mean anything by it,” said Harry. “I did tell you you’d have company on the water tonight, why don’t you try to be friends? Let me get you both a pint on the house. That new cask ale, wasn’t it, Max?”

“Go on then.”

“I’ll try the same,” said Heidi.

Heidi had no intention of making friends with Max and picked a table further away from the bar. Beast lay down by her feet. She picked up a menu and used it to shield the fact that she was eyeing up the other customers. Max was fixed to his phone, as were the three young men at the table next to his. It didn’t seem in any way odd, until Max reached across to one of the younger men, pointed at his screen, and said: “That one”. Then they all raised their heads towards Heidi.

“Go and ask her, then.” A guy with a beard and a shaved head was nudging his curly-haired mate. “See if it’s true.”

The curly-haired man picked up his bottle of cider and took a few steps towards Heidi. Beast swung his boxy head to face the man and sat up on his haunches.

“Hi, I’m Gav. Is it OK if I stroke your dog?” Gav put out a hand towards the rottweiler’s muzzle.

“Ask my dog. His name’s Beast.”

“Ah, like Bloom and Beast? Your boat’s named after him?”

Beast let out a low growl and Gav withdrew his hand.

“What do you want?”

Gav pulled up a chair opposite Heidi. “That Max guy told us to check out your boat online. There’s a kind of folklore around it. You know, it’s almost a legend.”

“Is that so?”

“Do flowers really spring up wherever you moor the boat?”

Heidi tightened her lips. What an odd notion. “Well, I suppose if you come back tomorrow, you’ll find out.”

“People are saying that the type of flower depends on how much you like the place.”

“Are they now?”

“Yeah, when you really love it, nasturtiums pop up.”

“There are nasturtiums all over my roof, and they seed very easily. Don’t you think that might have something to do with it?”

“What about the deadly nightshade that appeared in Cashwell?”

“Cashwell’s a dive, isn’t it Beast?” Heidi stroked Beast’s ear.

“So, it does make a difference?”

“I don’t appreciate people being mean to my dog. The idea that there is some kind of botanical revenge for that is absurd.”

“There are a lot of stories that suggest it’s true, whether it’s absurd or not.”

“Do tell us another one.”

Gav unlocked his phone and scrolled the screen. “How about this?” He took a sip of his cider. “Last summer you moored near Tambley Point locks in a thunderstorm. Not far from here. The lock keeper got chatting with you as he helped you tie your boat and when you told him your dog was scared of lightning strikes, he invited you both into his cottage for tea.”

“That’s all true.”

“The story goes that when you sailed away the following day, several honeysuckle vines grew up the front of the lock keeper’s cottage, and they flowered within the week.”

“Honeysuckle is very quick to develop, and it was most likely there before I was.”

“There are hundreds of these stories, even pictures of the Bloom and Beast with flowers in the background where you stayed more than one night somewhere. I’d put money on it being true.”

“Then you are a fool. It’s time for our dinner, and I think your friends are missing you.” Heidi nodded towards Gav’s table and lifted the menu in front of her face.

Gav took the hint and rejoined his mates, no doubt giving them a run-down of his conversation with the strange old lady.

When her cottage pie arrived, Heidi asked for an extra plate, which she forked half of her dinner onto and placed on the floor for Beast. A crowd of football fans had arrived, and Harry the landlord was too busy at the four-deep bar to notice his crockery being licked by a rottweiler.

Max was not distracted by the sports fans. “Oi!” He pointed at the dog. “People eat off those. That’s effin’ disgustin’ that is.”

“Come over here and take it off him then,” Heidi replied.

Beast looked up and flashed his teeth. Max returned his attention to his ale.

When the crowd at the bar had died down and Harry had a bit of slack, he made his way between the tables towards Heidi. “I just need you to sign the mooring agreement Miss Bloom. I think I mentioned it on the phone; it’s needed for overnight stays.”

Heidi took the clipboard and pen and scanned the terms – she hadn’t bothered reading them when she’d paid online. Amongst other points, once the pub closed, people on moored barges were expected to stay inside their boats. At least that would keep Max away from Beast. Heidi signed the agreement and picked up Beast’s plate from the floor, passing it to Harry with his pen.

“That stinkin’ mutt had his chops all over that!” Max was finishing his fourth pint since Heidi had arrived.

“OK, Max.”  Harry held a hand up in acknowledgment. “I’ll have it thoroughly washed and disinfected.” He turned to Heidi and added “I’d prefer it, Miss Bloom, if you provided your own kitchenware for your dog.”

“Nothing about that in the agreement.” Heidi raised an eyebrow at the clipboard still on the table in front of her. “But I’ll be sure to stay on my boat overnight, and I’ll keep him with me. You don’t need to worry about your beer glasses. I’ll have another pint of that cask ale if it’s not too much trouble.”

Heidi drained her third glass as Harry closed up the bar, showing the final few drinkers the door. He put the beer towels into a wash basket and cashed up the till, then started lifting chairs onto tabletops.

“You three need to get on your boats, please, and stay there ‘til I open again at 10am for breakfast.”

“I ain’t moving ‘til that nasty dog’s gone for the night,” said Max.

“Come on, Beast. Time for bed.” Heidi stood and her rottweiler followed her across the bar and down the steps to the Bloom and Beast. They were soon curled up together in their comfy bed.

“Now why wouldn’t you settle last night?” Heidi scratched Beast’s neck as she pulled on her walking boots. “I can’t hear much without my aids, but the storm had passed, and we were all tucked up. What were you whining about at 3am?”

Beast nodded his snout in the direction of The Painted Lady and summoned a growl.

“Was that Max fella bothering you? Was he playing music or something? I don’t understand some people.”

A post-storm freshness greeted Heidi and Beast as they emerged onto the stern of their boat. Muted morning light was battling its way through the huge plastic shutter.

“Nine fifty-six. I’m starving.” Heidi scratched Beast’s neck. “I wonder if we’ll get in trouble for being four minutes early for breakfast?”

“There you are!” Harry was standing on the bridge above the boats. His jaw firmly set and one hand clasped around the handle of a bucket. “What on Earth happened last night? You were supposed to stay on your boat.”

“We did.” Heidi clipped the lead onto Beast’s collar and let it drag behind him as they stepped onto the tow path.

“Someone has been at the cask ale. Someone has broken several glasses. Someone has been sick on my floor.”

“We were on our boat all night. It must have been Max.”

“Max has been here four nights now; he’s paid up til Sunday. He hasn’t as much as dropped a dog biscuit on someone else’s rucksack.”

“I see. I’m being picked on because I defended my friend?”

“I’ve tried really hard to be accommodating, but you haven’t even managed to hold on to his lead. You’ve let him eat off my plates, upset my customers and I won’t be surprised if he’s peed on my barstools.” Harry was clearly not a morning person.

The landlord crossed over the bridge and pulled the lever against the wall. There was a slight squeaking sound and a glistening reflection as the canal shutter began to lift, exposing the pub interior to the full glory of the morning sun.

“I think it’s time you two were on your way.”

“I’ve paid for breakfast and we’re both famished. Besides, the mess is nothing to do with either of us. Max is sleeping it off, no doubt.”

The shutter continued to rise.

“Come on, all the heat’s escaping. I don’t want my punters freezing over their bacon and eggs.”

Heidi let out a short, sharp whistle and Beast returned to the boat. She followed with a sigh and started the engine of the Bloom and Beast. As soon as enough of the archway was open, she reversed the boat through it and out onto the canal.

“Ah, well, my friend. We won’t be leaving them a favourable review, no matter how sparkly their fairy lights are.” Heidi dropped a biscuit into her rottweiler’s mouth and he crunched it loudly. “Let’s go back the way we came, shall we? I fancy a night or two near Tambley Point while we’re over this way. Maybe that lovely lock keeper will remember us and we can invite him out for lunch.”

The Bloom and Beast chugged away from the Boathouse Pub, but the landlord seemed to be having some trouble getting the shutter down. A thick covering of white bryony vines, with their heart shaped green leaves and tiny pale flowers, seemed to have covered the archway. Tendrils of the poisonous plant had wrapped themselves under the bottom of the shutter, holding it high above the water, preventing Harry from closing the exit.

“I suppose,” said Heidi slowly, “there might be some truth in what that young man was saying last night.”

Her dog looked up at her with his head on one side.

“They should be grateful it’s the blooms that get them, and not the beasts!”