Narrow Minds by Marie Browne Page A

over gin and bitter lemon. ‘That stupid game is just taking over, every flaming night he just sits there till he can’t stay awake any more then we go to bed and he passes out. He doesn’t interact with the kids, we don’t go out.’
    I sighed and looked at her. ‘We’re running out of money, Hels, the savings are just going down and down, it’s only me looking for a boat, the kids have made it clear they don’t want to move and Geoff doesn’t even live in this world any more, he’s become some sort of Orc hairdresser or something.’ I took a deep breath, any more of this and I was just going to have a complete crying fit. ‘I can’t bear it, when we had the boat we did everything together, there were things going on all the time, getting water, getting coal, running about, fixing things, we laughed.’ I frowned. ‘We froze our bits off as well, got eaten alive by insects and fished Geoff out of the river a lot but,’ I hesitated as I tried to think of the right words, ‘it was fun.’
    Helen gave me a hug; obviously this was a real problem and not one for a good nagging. ‘Well, your life is pretty much the same as everybody else’s.’ She laughed. ‘Lots of people spend too long on computer games, good grief I know I’ve nagged Dave about it often enough. There’s never enough money and you rob Peter to pay Paul.’ She paused for a moment, ‘Look, what exactly is it that’s so important to you about living on the boat, maybe if you went through it you’d see it wasn’t all that good and you could concentrate on living here.’ She leaned forward with a curious look. ‘So come on convince me.’
    I gulped and could feel my face heating up. ‘You’re going to laugh, it’s such a corny thing but to me it was the best thing in the world.’
    Helen pushed her hair out of her eyes and frowned, trying desperately to give the impression that she wouldn’t laugh.
    â€˜It’s the sense of community.’ I gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. ‘Not something I’ve ever been worried about eh? I can’t even remember a house where I haven’t had some problem with the neighbours, even if it’s something really paltry like their cat digging up my lawn.’ I took a sip of my drink. ‘You always knew where you were with the boaters, nobody ever bothered you, nobody judged. There were boats of every shape and size down that line, but there was no one-upmanship, none of the ‘I’ve got a better boat than you’. People would always help out, if you ran out of coal or electricity or needed something; there were no worries about asking someone for help, you knew that in the same position they’d certainly ask you.’
    I paused as I tried to remember what had made it all so very special. ‘In the summer, there were early mornings where we’d all be drinking coffee and perched on steps, some in pyjamas, some in shorts, just chatting. People would join the group or wander off, everyone knew everyone else. If people had too much of something they just left the excess by the skip or offered it around.’ I grinned. ‘I remember someone had managed to pick up a load of paving slabs, far too many to pave the way to their boat. So that winter, there were about five of us that didn’t need to skip through the mud, it was such a simple thing but it was so good.’
    I paused for breath and took a look at Helen to see if she understood, she frowned so I carried on. ‘And every year a set of boats get lifted out for blacking, the first two days just seem to be a bit of a party, someone brings a barbecue, there’s far too much beer consumed, but eventually they start work but if your next door neighbour needs help then they would do that as well. Maybe I’m wrong, not having lived through it, but there seems to still be that