Out of Step

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Authors: Maggie Makepeace
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surrounded by luxuriant growths of vines and lemon trees and olive orchards, and God knows what. But it’s a fair chance that it will in fact get
colder
here as global warming takes hold.’
    ‘Why?’ Nell asked, welcoming a neutral topic of conversation.
    ‘Oh, don’t encourage him,’ Elly urged.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Paul said testily. ‘I won’t bore them. I can say it all in a couple of sentences.’ He gulped his whisky again.
    ‘You drink too fast,’ Elly said.
    ‘Go on then,’ Nell said quickly.
    ‘Right, well it goes something like this: extra heat leads to more precipitation, i.e., snow at the poles, which leads to more ice formation and therefore to more icebergs breaking off the glaciers in Greenland, which float southwards into the North Atlantic cooling it down and making the water less salty and therefore less likely to sink. This has a good chance of disrupting the Atlantic conveyor system altogether, and deflecting our Gulf Stream current southwards towards Spain. Don’t forget we’re on the same latitude as Labrador. Without the Gulf Stream bringing us extra heat from the tropics, we’d be very cold indeed!’
    ‘It’s just exaggeration,’ Elly said. ‘It’ll never happen.’
    ‘I certainly hope not,’ Sibyl said. There was an awkward silence, and then Elly and Paul both spoke at the same time.
    Elly said, ‘Just as well you didn’t come for Christmas!’
    Paul said, ‘Christmas wasn’t the same without you.’
    ‘Yes… No…’ Nell said. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come, but…’
    ‘She had better things to do, didn’t you, Nell?’ Elly looked expectant. ‘What’s the latest, then?’
    ‘Maybe she doesn’t want you to dissect her entire private life in public. Have you even considered that possibility?’ Paul demanded.
    ‘Sorry,’ Nell said hastily. ‘Just got to go and see how the food’s coming along.’ She retreated to the kitchen. Sibyl got up and followed her, shutting the door behind them. She was wearing gypsy earrings and lots of loose layers of clothes, mostly of navy blue, with a long necklace of bright clashing wooden beads. She looked magnificent. Nell turned to her gratefully.
    ‘Oh dear,’ Sibyl said. ‘Those two get worse all the time. Just as well the boys stayed in London with their other grandma. Can I do anything useful?’
    ‘You could mash these,’ Nell said, offering a pan of drained potatoes. ‘What’s the problem? D’you know?’
    ‘I’ve a shrewd idea, but I won’t say in case I want to unsay it later.’ She mashed away energetically as Nell dished up. ‘Perhaps this houseboat of theirs will be a good idea. It’ll certainly make family holidays less fraught.’
    ‘What d’you mean?’
    ‘Hasn’t Elly told you about it? Oh dear, perhaps it’s supposed to be a secret. Pretend you don’t know, yes?’
    ‘Right.’ They carried in the food, and set it out on the dining-room table.
    Paul and Elly came in and sat down. It seemed they had reluctantly made a pact to tone down the conflict.
    ‘Shall I tell her?’ Elly asked him.
    ‘If you want.’
    ‘We’ve got a treat for you tomorrow, Nell, which includes being out for lunch. All right?’
    ‘Great,’ Nell said, thinking: Houseboat? One of the Eely creek ones? That would be a happy coincidence.
    Sunday morning was sunny. The tide was at its lowest and the river had retreated to a wide stripe of water in the middle, beaching the houseboats and revealing a tatty causeway: Eely Isle’s connection to the rest of the world. The Tozers’ houseboat turned out to be the red and greenone that Nell had admired previously, and she was more than delighted to be shown around it. Inside it was neat and cleverly constructed with wooden panelling, shiny brass, and red velvet cushions. Everything, including the sink and cooker, could be shut away into its own small cupboard. Seats metamorphosed into extra beds. Tables folded up and down. There was even a solid-fuel stove with a long

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