lady’s tying a rope to that tree.”
“Nice paintwork,” George, the artist, said admiringly. “All those flowers.”
The boat was beautiful, painted dark green, with curtains at all the windows, and pots of flowers on the roof – it almost looked like a tiny garden upthere. And all along the side was the most beautiful painting of flowers. Izzy could just about make out the name of the boat:
Painted Lady
.
Poppy laughed. “We’ve just done one of those, look! It’s a butterfly, this orangey spotted one.”
Izzy looked back admiringly at the bridge. It was the middle of Sunday afternoon now, and they’d only just managed to start painting the animals and birds and flowers, because of waiting for the undercoat to dry, but already it was looking beautiful. The butterfly was sitting on top of a clump of painted primroses. Poppy and George had filled in the time waiting for the paint to dry by working out which creatures they would paint, and where, and drawing out life-size sketches that they could transfer on to the wall. It was very organised.
The lady who’d tied up the boat was now walking down the river bank towards them, and the girls smiled at her. Somehow, someone who lived on such a pretty boat had to be nice, they were sure.
“Hello! We heard you on the radio this morning.”
Izzy laughed. “Sorry! It’s just that so many people have said that today. Your boat’s so beautiful. Do you live on it all the time?”
The lady nodded. “Yes – and we often come downthe river here, but we’ve never been along this bit. Not in the
Lady
anyway, we’ve walked along, and seen what a state it was in. So when we heard that you were cleaning it out, we thought we might come and help, and then sail on through. I’m Sally. Matt’s still on the boat.”
“That would be brilliant!” Izzy beamed at her. “Like a grand opening! You ought to have flags!”
Sally laughed. “We have got some, somewhere, from being in a gala day. I’ll go and find them, and then I’ll come back and do some picking up. Although it looks like you must have nearly finished. It’s so much nicer now!”
Izzy nodded. “It’s nearly three, and we officially stop at four, so hopefully it’s almost done.”
“You look exhausted,” Sally said sympathetically. Then she smiled. “If you can do without Matt for the last bit of clearing up, I think I’ll send him off to the supermarket for some biscuits and stuff. Then we could put the flags up, and you girls and all your helpers could come on the boat and have some tea, and be part of the grand sail-through. A celebration.”
“Would you really let us?” Poppy asked delightedly. “It would be a fab end to the weekend. It would have been a bit dismal just giving up and going home.”
“Oh no, you definitely deserve a bit of a party. And now you’ve cleaned the river up the best way to see how beautiful it is, is obviously by boat.” Sally nodded. “Tell everyone, four o’clock, party on the
Painted Lady
! I’ll go and make sure she’s tidy!”
Izzy sat squashed up in the bow of the narrowboat with Poppy and Maya and Emily, with a glass of lemonade in one hand, and a chocolate biscuit in the other. There was a little bench seat, and there was just about enough room for the four of them, especially as Poppy was kneeling up, and throwing chocolate bourbons to Alex and Maddy and Jake and the others, who were escorting the
Painted Lady
down the river in their canoes. Emily’s dad was standing on the bank taking photos, and everybody else was crammed on to the boat, drinking tea, and eating biscuits, and chatting, and generally feeling pleased with themselves.
Poppy’s dad had even gone home to fetch more supplies, and Billy too, as he’d helped to start off the whole idea, and now the big dog was happily sitting at Izzy’s feet, edging closer and closer to a packet of chocolate bourbons, which Poppy had foolishly left almost in his reach.
“It looks good,
“Nice paintwork,” George, the artist, said admiringly. “All those flowers.”
The boat was beautiful, painted dark green, with curtains at all the windows, and pots of flowers on the roof – it almost looked like a tiny garden upthere. And all along the side was the most beautiful painting of flowers. Izzy could just about make out the name of the boat:
Painted Lady
.
Poppy laughed. “We’ve just done one of those, look! It’s a butterfly, this orangey spotted one.”
Izzy looked back admiringly at the bridge. It was the middle of Sunday afternoon now, and they’d only just managed to start painting the animals and birds and flowers, because of waiting for the undercoat to dry, but already it was looking beautiful. The butterfly was sitting on top of a clump of painted primroses. Poppy and George had filled in the time waiting for the paint to dry by working out which creatures they would paint, and where, and drawing out life-size sketches that they could transfer on to the wall. It was very organised.
The lady who’d tied up the boat was now walking down the river bank towards them, and the girls smiled at her. Somehow, someone who lived on such a pretty boat had to be nice, they were sure.
“Hello! We heard you on the radio this morning.”
Izzy laughed. “Sorry! It’s just that so many people have said that today. Your boat’s so beautiful. Do you live on it all the time?”
The lady nodded. “Yes – and we often come downthe river here, but we’ve never been along this bit. Not in the
Lady
anyway, we’ve walked along, and seen what a state it was in. So when we heard that you were cleaning it out, we thought we might come and help, and then sail on through. I’m Sally. Matt’s still on the boat.”
“That would be brilliant!” Izzy beamed at her. “Like a grand opening! You ought to have flags!”
Sally laughed. “We have got some, somewhere, from being in a gala day. I’ll go and find them, and then I’ll come back and do some picking up. Although it looks like you must have nearly finished. It’s so much nicer now!”
Izzy nodded. “It’s nearly three, and we officially stop at four, so hopefully it’s almost done.”
“You look exhausted,” Sally said sympathetically. Then she smiled. “If you can do without Matt for the last bit of clearing up, I think I’ll send him off to the supermarket for some biscuits and stuff. Then we could put the flags up, and you girls and all your helpers could come on the boat and have some tea, and be part of the grand sail-through. A celebration.”
“Would you really let us?” Poppy asked delightedly. “It would be a fab end to the weekend. It would have been a bit dismal just giving up and going home.”
“Oh no, you definitely deserve a bit of a party. And now you’ve cleaned the river up the best way to see how beautiful it is, is obviously by boat.” Sally nodded. “Tell everyone, four o’clock, party on the
Painted Lady
! I’ll go and make sure she’s tidy!”
Izzy sat squashed up in the bow of the narrowboat with Poppy and Maya and Emily, with a glass of lemonade in one hand, and a chocolate biscuit in the other. There was a little bench seat, and there was just about enough room for the four of them, especially as Poppy was kneeling up, and throwing chocolate bourbons to Alex and Maddy and Jake and the others, who were escorting the
Painted Lady
down the river in their canoes. Emily’s dad was standing on the bank taking photos, and everybody else was crammed on to the boat, drinking tea, and eating biscuits, and chatting, and generally feeling pleased with themselves.
Poppy’s dad had even gone home to fetch more supplies, and Billy too, as he’d helped to start off the whole idea, and now the big dog was happily sitting at Izzy’s feet, edging closer and closer to a packet of chocolate bourbons, which Poppy had foolishly left almost in his reach.
“It looks good,
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