‘Sounds like a very kind man, but surely if he was keen on Patsy he would have told her. They could have worked it out…’

  ‘They were both really young – my grandfather was in his very early twenties – and from what he told me, I believe Patsy was in her late teens.’

  ‘Why can’t life be simple?’

  ‘Because then it would be boring,’ replied Nolan, crossing over the road towards the jetty and leading her towards the river taxi.

  Roman tilted his cap as they headed towards them. ‘And? Did you discover anything?’ he asked, as they climbed on board.

  Nolan shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not.’

  This time they enjoyed the views from the back of the boat and it wasn’t long before they arrived back at The Little Blue Boathouse.

  ‘It’s a lovely night. I’ve got a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge if you fancy a drink. Unless you’ve got other plans?’ asked Bea.

  ‘No plans whatsoever.’

  Standing at the end of the jetty, Bea smiled. That was what she’d hoped he would say. ‘What’s the plan now regarding Patsy?’

  ‘I think I’ll ask around and then after that … I’m not really sure. If I can’t trace her, the letter will never be read.’

  Bea nodded and pointed to a wrought iron table and chairs by the edge of the riverbank. ‘Shall we sit there? I’ll nip in and get the wine and two glasses.’

  ‘Yes, we can watch the boats. Before you go, I’ve brought you this.’ Nolan walked over to his rowing boat where it was chained up outside The Little Blue Boathouse. He brought out the canvas that he’d painted of Bea at Castaway Bay, along with the painting of the Boathouse. ‘A memento of our time together. Something to remember me by.’

  As soon as she heard those words, she felt a tiny pang in her heart. She didn’t want Nolan disappearing anytime soon. He’d made such an impact on her life in such a small space of time. She hadn’t ever been one for believing in love at first sight but there was something about this man that she couldn’t shake off, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

  She felt panic. ‘You wouldn’t ever sail off without saying good bye, would you?’ She didn’t want to open her curtains one morning to find The Hemingway and Nolan gone.

  ‘Of course I’ll say goodbye.’ He smiled, handing over the paintings.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know you made over two hundred pounds today. Your paintings sparked a lot of interest.’ Bea looked down at the painting of herself and immediately thought of the girl in the other painting. Who exactly was she, and what was she to Nolan?

  ‘That’s brilliant news. I’ve already researched where I’m off to next and I’ll get some paintings done from the Google images before I arrive so they’re ready to sell.’

  ‘Is that what you did for Heartcross?’

  Nolan nodded.

  ‘And do you make memories with lots of girls in different bays and paint them too?’

  Nolan looked puzzled by the question. ‘Not usually. Why do you ask that?’

  ‘Because for a tiny moment when we were at Castaway Bay, I thought I was special and that’s why you chose to paint me.’

  By the look on Nolan’s face, he had no idea where this conversation was heading and Bea was already kicking herself for showing her insecurities. She had no reason to feel jealous – she knew the score between them – but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling.

  ‘It was a day I’ll never forget.’ Nolan looked directly at her. ‘That day will always be special to me.’

  Bea now wished she hadn’t let her thoughts run away with themselves. But she knew the more time she spent in Nolan’s company, the more she wouldn’t want to say goodbye to him.

  ‘Is something wrong? I’m sensing you may be upset but I’m not sure why,’ he said tentatively.

  ‘That painting of a girl that was amongst your other paintings on display today. Was it someone you met here before me?’ Bea knew there was a possibility she wasn’t going to like the answer.

  ‘I’ve not met anyone here.’

  Bea’s head was full of muddled thoughts. All she wanted to know was who it was.

  ‘Then who is she, that beautiful girl wearing a wedding ring?’

  Suddenly, Nolan looked stricken. ‘Where is the painting?’

  ‘Inside the Boathouse, if it hasn’t been sold.’

  ‘Can I get it back, please? It shouldn’t be in there.’ His voice was earnest. ‘It’s not for sale and will never be for sale.’

  The atmosphere had suddenly dropped to freezing and Bea was beginning to wish she hadn’t said anything.

  ‘Of course, is everything okay?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.

  ‘Just … the painting, please, Bea.’

  She looked over her shoulder as she led him towards the Boathouse door. ‘Was she someone like me?’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘Someone you had a bit of fun with on your travels?’

  ‘Why would you even ask such a question?’ Nolan’s tone had suddenly changed.

  ‘I suppose because my gut is telling me there’s something not quite right here.’

  Nolan didn’t answer.

  Bea unlocked the door to The Little Blue Boathouse and pointed Nolan in the direction of the stored paintings.

  ‘Do you know what I think?’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ Nolan said as he began to search through the paintings.

  ‘I think you’re running away from something, that’s why you travel around so much. It’s not normal not to want to put down roots.’

  Nolan turned and faced her. There was a glimmer of anger in his eyes. ‘And who dictates what normal is? Who says it’s normal to put down roots? Society makes you believe the only way you can be happy is by meeting someone, being in a couple, getting married, buying a house, having children… It doesn’t mean you’re an outcast if you don’t follow everyone else that picks that path. My life is my life and my time is precious and it’s up to me how I choose to spend it. You have no clue about who I am or my life so who are you to judge me? Do you know what I think?’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ replied Bea, mirroring his words.

  ‘I think you probably shouldn’t think.’

  Bea raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the painting. ‘Does she have a name?’

  Nolan didn’t answer.

  ‘Oh my God. You are married, aren’t you? Is this your wife?’ Bea felt herself trembling as her thoughts tumbled over each other. ‘You’ve painted her, she’s wearing a ring and she’s not on this trip with you because…’ Bea wound her hand in a circle, encouraging Nolan to explain but he remained silent.

  Bea continued. ‘She’s probably stayed at home due to work commitments, and you’ve travelled back to look for Patsy and bumped into me and thought you’d take your chance and have a little fun for a few weeks and when you sail back home, no one will ever be the wiser. Is that it? I thought you were different but you’re just the same as all the others.’

  Nolan shook his head and began to walk towards the door.

  ‘Have you not got anything to say?’

  The silence hung heavy in the air.

  Bea threw up her hands. ‘You can’t even tell me I’m wrong.’

  ‘I owe no one any explanations – and I get the impression it doesn’t matter what I say because you’ve already lumped me in the same box as your ex.’

  Bea exhaled and squeezed her eyes shut as her heart sank to a new depth. ‘And here was me thinking you were different.’

  He walked through the door and out of her life. He didn’t look back.

  The second she’d set eyes on Nolan, Bea knew the chemistry between them was off the scale. Now she was mad with herself for letting her emotions get the better of her. He’d made her feel like she’d been kicked to the kerb and the day at Castaway Bay meant nothing.

  Watching him leave, she gave a slow, disbelieving shake of the head. She felt humiliated and betrayed ... which was daft really, as Nolan had never promised anything. No, the way she was reacting was down to her own insecurities, which hadn’t been helped by Carl’s deceit.

  The lust and excitement of the time they had spent together had now turned into shame and embarrassment. Feeling stupid, she shut the door behind him and blinked back the tears. She’d come here to sort out her life and now she felt like she was in a bigger mess than when she arrived.

  Taking a deep breath, she climbed the ladder to the attic room. She’d never intended the night to turn out this way and now she was beginning to question her judgement. Emotion poured through her body, and frustrated tears ran down her cheeks.

  ‘Urghh,’ she gasped, slumping in the armchair. Her own pangs of self-doubt had just sabotaged their time together, and she’d made a mountain out of a molehill. Nolan had every right to walk away and not give an explanation. Whoever it was in that painting was his business and he didn’t have to explain himself to her.

  Wanting to put this right, she opened the window. Nolan was rowing across the river towards The Hemingway, so she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at him with all her might to come back. But her words were lost in the wind and the sounds of the gulls circling above.

  He didn’t look back.

  Her mood plummeted to an all-time low.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bea was exhausted the next morning after tossing and turning all night thinking of Nolan. Slipping out of bed and pulling on her faithful baggy sweatshirt, she made herself a mug of tea before pulling back the curtains, hoping to watch the beautiful sunrise across the River Heart from the attic window. With her hands cupped around a mug, she felt glum about how things had panned out last night and wished she could turn back time. The more she thought about how she’d reacted, the more she was embarrassed by her behaviour. The look on Nolan’s face as he’d walked away was one of despair and sadness.

  Yes, Carl had betrayed her trust, but she needed to remember that there were good men out there, and, though she might be battling her own demons, she shouldn’t lose her ability to conduct herself with dignity. What had happened last night was the result of her trying to bypass the grieving process and the emotions that had brought her here in the first place. Attempting to be upbeat and pretending that life was hunky-dory clearly wasn’t working. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Bea hugged them tight and rested her head on top of them. For a moment she let the tears fall, before finishing her tea and placing the empty mug in the sink.

  As she turned back around, she looked at the two paintings propped up at the side of the desk. She picked up the painting of The Little Blue Boathouse and looked at the inscription on the back. Nolan had added some more words, which made the tears fall again.

  Hemingway & Fernsby. The only way to solve the case is together.

  Bea felt at rock bottom and, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her jumper, she sat back down in the armchair and looked out across the water. It was going to be the last sunny day for a couple of days, as according to the weather forecast the rain was on its way. There was a storm brewing and Bea knew that meant it would be a quiet time for the Boathouse because the river wasn’t an enjoyable place to be in torrential rain.

  A couple of new boats had arrived and were anchored near the riverbank. Her eyes skimmed over the water but didn’t find the one boat she was looking for. Feeling panicky, Bea sat up straight and moved to the edge of her seat. Bringing her hands up to the seahorse necklace around her neck, she clutched it tightly.

  ‘No, please no.’

  The Hemingway was gone. And there it was again, that horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’d never wanted to feel again. He hadn’t even said goodbye like he’d promised. She slumped back in the chair and realised that last night was the last time she would see Nolan. She was devastated. He’d disappeared out of her life as quickly as he’d appeared and now there was nothing she could do about it.

  Hearing her phone ping, she quickly looked at the screen. It was a text from Emmie.

  If you wake up before 7 give me a ring, it would be lovely to hear your voice.

  ‘Hi, it’s me.’ The second she spoke, Bea was tearful.

  ‘There she is! How are you?’ Emmie was overly chirpy for this time in the morning.

  Bea swallowed. It took Emmie a second to realise that Bea was upset.

  ‘Are you okay? Talk to me. I knew you were putting on a brave face.’

  Bea was upset, but for reasons that Emmie could never have imagined.

  ‘Look, he wants you back, if that helps.’

  It didn’t help. Carl had hardly crossed her mind. ‘I’m not upset about him in the slightest.’

  There was a short silence at the end of the phone. ‘Then why are you upset?’

  ‘I think I’ve done something stupid.’

  ‘Then you’d better tell me all.’

  Bea shared the story of her whirlwind romance and their day at Castaway Bay. She wasn’t entirely sure whether she felt better for getting it off her chest or not.

  She was met by silence on the other end of the phone.

  ‘Say something,’ urged Bea.

  ‘I’m completely lost for words. This isn’t like you. He’s not the man for you. It’s a rebound thing and this won’t make you feel any better. You aren’t thinking straight. I think what’s best for you—’

  Bea felt a little defensive and cut in. ‘Maybe it is like me.’ She didn’t want to hear what was best for her, she just wanted someone to listen with no judgement. ‘And there’s something else.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Emmie.

  ‘I’ve resigned from the supermarket and am staying on at The Little Blue Boathouse for a while longer.’

  ‘And how long is a while longer?’

  ‘I’m not sure – and please don’t go telling me what you think is best for me because coming back home right at this moment is not what is best for me.’

  Emmie blew out a breath and, much to Bea’s relief, didn’t challenge her. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘That’s a first,’ joked Bea, trying to lighten the mood.

  Thankfully, Emmie didn’t take offence but kept the mood light. ‘I know you find me infuriating at times but I am still your sister and I do want what’s best for you. Please don’t be lonely or upset all by yourself. You can ring me any time. Promise me that.’

  ‘I will.’

  Feeling a little better, Bea hung up the call. Maybe it was the best thing that Nolan had gone. He was going to go at some point anyway and this meant that she wouldn’t get more attached to him than she already was. The only things she regretted were not apologising and missing the chance to say goodbye. She was surprised he hadn’t stayed to solve the mystery of Patsy but he must have had his reasons for deciding to give up on his search.

  After pulling a brush through her hair and cleaning her teeth, she got changed and slipped her feet into her trainers before looking at her reflection in the mirror. The seahorse necklace kept catching the light of the sun through the window. She turned it over in her hand.

  ‘Strength and courage,’ she murmured. She knew the only thing she could do was pick herself up and keep moving forward. ‘Don’t dwell on Nolan, just enjoy the fact that it was nice while it lasted,’ she said to herself as she fastened the clasp of the necklace around her neck. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she thought back to the afternoon at Castaway Bay. She’d not felt so carefree in a long time. It was a day of happiness. The most beautiful things in life were memories, feelings in the moment and smiles and laughter, and that day had had all of those. She wanted more of those moments in her life. The thing that Nolan had taught her in so short a time was: if you’re not happy then make a change – and that’s exactly what she was doing.

  Climbing down the ladder, she stepped into The Little Blue Boathouse and opened the hatch before unlocking the door. Julia breezed in with a smile on her face and placed a sausage sandwich in Bea’s hand. ‘Leftover from breakfast at the B&B. I thought you might like it.’

  ‘Just the ticket, thank you.’

  ‘Did you have a good night last night?’

  For a moment, Bea wondered if Julia knew that she’d spent the evening with Nolan.

  ‘I know sometimes it’s hard to sleep in a new place and those gulls can be noisy,’ continued Julia.

  ‘Out like a light and up with the gulls,’ replied Bea, knowing that was a little white lie. Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite, she sighed in appreciation. ‘This is good.’

  ‘There’s nothing better than waking up to the sound of the water rushing.’ Julia looked out towards the river. ‘It’s going to be busy today, but with the couple of days of rain we’re due for, our takings will be down, so try and encourage people to book trips towards the end of the week.’

  ‘Will do,’ Bea said, observing the tourists that were already walking down the river path towards the Boathouse. She wouldn’t mind being run off her feet today; it would help her not to dwell too much on Nolan.

  ‘I can’t stay today – lots of changeover guests at the B&B – so I just wanted to check if you’re okay to manage this place by yourself?’

  ‘Of course, and I have your number if anything crops up.’

  ‘I knew I could rely on you.’ Julia gave her a warm smile. ‘Make sure you shut up shop for an hour at lunchtime.’

  ‘Is Bonnie’s Teashop the best place to grab something to eat?’

  ‘Either there or The Old Bakehouse with the chocolate shop next door.’

  ‘That sounds like a Friday treat to me,’ replied Bea.

  With Julia gone, Bea was in charge of the shop and she quite liked it. After serving the first influx of customers, who were now messing about on the river on paddleboards and in rowing boats, Bea was dragging the ‘open for business’ sign outside when she spotted Nolan’s paintings that he’d left behind. Wondering what to do with them, she decided to display them outside, just like the day before. It wasn’t as though she’d been told any different, and she had a tiny hope that he would return to collect his money. The terrible thought of never seeing him again was playing on her mind.