Barging In Read Online Free Page A

gave Dan a look he couldn’t interpret. Dark and complicated and downright intimidating.
    “I’m going out, remember? Besides, I’ve got posters to put up first.”
    Mel huffed, but she didn’t argue. They both watched as Robin cycled off into the gloaming. “Come on in, then. See what a real boat’s like on the inside. Bet it’s nothing like your hire boat.”
    It certainly wasn’t. Dark was the first word that sprang to Dan’s mind. Closely followed by warm . No, make that sweltering . And cluttered followed rapidly on as he looked for somewhere to put his jacket.
    “Here, let me. The bed’s about the only place to throw it.” Mel walked the few paces through the crowded living area and pulled back a curtain. A rumpled pile of bedding filled up the tiny bed cabin. It was a totally different layout to his hire boat, where the bed was open to a corridor along the side so it didn’t seem too cramped, although maybe he’d feel differently tonight when he actually slept in it. Mel’s bed took up the width of the boat and had only a small entryway to climb up onto it—God, it must be like sleeping in a cupboard.
    A cupboard that smelled of damp, overlaid with the reek of incense.
    “Want something to drink? I’ve got herbal tea or vodka.”
    What a choice! Dan eyed the state of Mel’s tiny galley. It looked like a crockery and food bomb had exploded all over the narrow strip of worktop and sink. You could catch something nasty just by looking at those mugs.
    “I’m fine, thanks. Just popped by to ask you about something.” Now that his eyes were adjusting to the dim light, he could make out the knickknacks that encrusted every surface like bohemian barnacles. Was there anything here that wasn’t covered in beads and baubles? Mind you, if he could get the lighting right, it would make a great backdrop for a portrait shot.
    “Okay. Come on, sit.” Mel patted the sofa beside her. There wasn’t much room, so Dan would have to squeeze up tight. He hesitated a moment, caught a sharp gaze that made him feel strangely inadequate, and resigned himself to getting up close and personal with Mel.
    “So, are you going to tell me what this is about?”
    “Right, yes. I was wondering if any of the boaters might be interested in having their photographs taken. On their boats, I mean. Like a portrait of them and their home.”
    She screwed up her forehead in thought. “Maybe. Depends what it’s for and how you approach them.”
    “I’m trying to break into photojournalism, and it struck me that I could write a social interest piece to go with the portraits. Something about poverty and prejudice on the waterways.”
    “Interesting.” Mel narrowed her eyes, and Dan put on his best earnest face. It usually worked well for him, but Mel seemed impervious to his charms. “I like the idea, but I wouldn’t want to sell it to them like that. We’re a proud lot. We chose this lifestyle, and you could say we’re rich in many ways.”
    Dan glanced around the claustrophobic space. He wasn’t going to argue if Mel thought this heap of junk represented riches, but she was clearly deluded.
    “Some of the boats aren’t as well kept as yours, though, are they? What about the ones that are like tents on the top?” He’d passed one like that with a crumbling wooden hull and a black tarpaulin stretched out over a central beam. There were a few plastic windows set into the canvas, and the air above the stovepipe rippled with heat, but the sight still made Dan shudder. “Do people actually live on those during the winter? They must freeze.”
    “Nah, what d’you think stoves are for? If anything, you end up getting too stuffy and have to open the hatches.”
    “But they’ve only got a bit of canvas between them and the elements.”
    “So? Our ancestors used to live in caves. You’d be surprised what your body can take when you put it to the test. But maybe you’re too used to your central heating and electrical