Nolan noticed that Martha’s voice had softened and her hands were shaking slightly. He watched her closely.

  ‘Thank you,’ he replied.

  ‘He was a good man, a kind man, a generous man and a handsome man.’ This time she glanced in Nolan’s direction.

  ‘He was all of those things.’

  ‘I see you have had other sadness in your life and I commend you. You have taken time out for you. You’re working on being happy within yourself and living your life as you want to instead of how society expects you to. It takes some guts not to have a permanent place to call home.’

  ‘I do have a permanent place to call home.’

  ‘You do,’ replied Martha, this time with a smile. ‘It just keeps moving about.’

  ‘The Hemingway.’

  She nodded. ‘You’re at your happiest when you’re on the boat. It’s going to be your lifeline. You have the ability to make money and you will be a success in what you want to do.’ Martha’s hands kept moving. ‘But you’re swathed with guilt.’ Martha gave him a sideward glance. ‘Hannah would have wanted you to get on with your life. She wants you to be happy.’

  Nolan’s mouth dropped open. ‘How do you know Hannah’s name?’

  ‘It’s in here. Everything is in here. Be true to who you are and there’s no need to feel guilty.’

  Nolan knew that since he’d set eyes on Bea, he’d felt guilty. When he was married to Hannah, he could never have imagined himself with anyone else. He’d thought they’d grow old together and have a wonderful life. He had never expected things to change as they did. But as the saying goes, time heals all things, and there was something about Bea that gave him that good feeling again, one he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was humorous, kind, beautiful and he’d found himself thinking about her even when he wasn’t with her. But even though he knew he had feelings for her, he was struggling. Of course Hannah would want him to get on with his life but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that. He’d never experienced heartache like he had when Hannah passed away, and even though something as tragic was unlikely to happen to him again, the only way he could be sure of that was to not get too close to anyone again.

  ‘You deserve happiness,’ added Martha.

  Nolan swallowed a lump in his throat. He could feel himself tearing up, the emotion still raw, but he managed to compose himself. Bea had relit a tiny flame inside him but it terrified him to think of letting that flame flare up into a full fire.

  Martha stopped moving her hands and stared into the ball. She was silent for a second. ‘Your family is going to help you make the decision about what is next for you.’ She sat back in her chair and lifted the veil from her head.

  ‘I haven’t got any family,’ replied Nolan. ‘It’s just me now.’

  Martha stood up and gestured for Nolan to do the same. ‘Your grandfather would be very proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he replied, taking another glance towards the painting of Castaway Bay on the wall. He wanted to take a closer look. He knew that his grandfather always signed the back of his paintings. He took the plunge. ‘Martha, can I ask you, do you know of anyone called Patsy that lives – or lived – around here?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I would like to talk to her about my grandfather. I know she was based in Glensheil and worked at The Little Blue Boathouse.’

  Martha walked Nolan to the door.

  ‘When my grandfather passed away, I discovered some items he’d kept from around the time he visited Heartcross, and a painting he did of them both. In fact, it’s displayed on The Hemingway. It’s the centre of my new exhibition, but the only painting that’s not for sale.’

  ‘Displayed on The Hemingway, you say?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve opened an art gallery on the water.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t help you with any of this.’

  ‘I knew it was a long shot, but I would have liked to meet Patsy and reminisce a little about Grandfather. I don’t even know if she would still be alive. I checked the cemetery.’

  Martha raised an eyebrow. ‘What you might think is a romantic love story might not be how it actually was. People run away with nostalgia. Sometimes, things are better left in the past.’

  Nolan had never thought about it like that, but Martha had a fair point, one he hadn’t considered. Patsy would now be elderly and, if she was still alive, she might be happily married, have children, maybe even grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There was a possibility she wouldn’t want a conversation about the past. She might not even remember his grandfather.

  He stepped outside and collected his bike, while Martha stood in the doorway and watched him ride out of sight. The conversation he’d just had very much on his mind, his thoughts turned to Hannah, the life they’d had, the laughter and good times they’d shared. After losing her he’d built protective walls around himself, but he could feel that Bea had started to chip away at them, and he was beginning to wonder if the promise that he’d made to himself would soon become impossible to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hearing the sound of gravel crunching, Bea looked up and saw Nolan wheeling his bike up the path towards her. He had a beaming smile on his face as he propped the bike up against a tree.

  ‘I see you’re taking it easy,’ he teased.

  Bea was lying in a hammock that was tied up between two trees at the bottom of the garden. She’d spent the last thirty minutes enjoying the early evening sun whilst reading a book.

  ‘Absolutely! This is the life,’ she replied, thinking the norm for her at this time would usually be fighting her way through town to start the night shift. Lying in a hammock was definitely the better option.

  Nolan stood admiring the view of the mountainous terrain. ‘This place is spectacular. It’s really something else. You can see why people don’t want to leave Heartcross once they’ve arrived.’

  ‘That’ll be everyone, except you,’ remarked Bea, noticing Nolan lost in thought for a moment. ‘You okay? I didn’t mean anything by that.’

  ‘It’s okay, it’s not you,’ he replied.

  ‘What is it then? For a second there, you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Honestly, I think the day is catching up with me.’

  Bea wasn’t convinced and could see that Nolan had something on his mind but she didn’t want to push him. If there was something he wanted to talk about he would come to her in his own time. ‘How did it go with Martha? Anything to report?’

  ‘I couldn’t get close enough to the painting to see if it was my grandfather’s but it’s exactly the same style as his.’ Nolan didn’t elaborate on what Martha had revealed about Hannah. ‘But I did get a chance to ask her if she knew anyone called Patsy. She told me I should consider whether Patsy would even want to be found.’

  ‘Interesting. Did she give a reason for that?’ Bea sat up slightly in the hammock, being careful not to over-rock it.

  ‘It felt as though she was warning me off.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Bea, closing her book.

  ‘I might be overthinking things, but I realised when I was cycling over here that she never specifically answered whether she knew of anyone called Patsy. She might have a fair point though – Patsy might not remember that summer in Heartcross the way my grandfather did. And the more I think about it, what’s it going to achieve, finding Patsy? It’s not as though my grandfather is still alive to be reunited with her.’

  ‘But there’s the letter in your grandfather’s box,’ said Bea.

  ‘Maybe it’s best left unread. They may have fallen in love that summer but maybe a summer love was all it was ever meant to be. Maybe it just wasn’t their time.’

  ‘Do you believe in timing?’ asked Bea, curiously.

  ‘I do,’ replied Nolan, holding her gaze. ‘Timing is everything.’

  Bea didn’t question him further. Maybe if she stumbled across Nolan in a few more years, they would have a chance. A loss like his would shape his life in different ways and she couldn’t imagine the pain he was still suffering.

  ‘But,’ continued Nolan, ‘I do feel Martha might know more than she’s letting on. It wasn’t anything in particular, it was just more of a vibe she was giving off. When she was looking into the ball she hesitated at one point and pulled her veil over her head. She mentioned my grandfather passing away and if I wasn’t mistaken, she looked upset.’

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t like speaking of people that have passed because she knows it upsets people to think about those they’ve lost.’

  ‘Possibly. But apart from taking a closer look at that painting I’m not sure what else I could do now. She did say one thing that confused me though.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That my family was going to help me make a decision.’ Nolan shrugged. ‘As I told her, I haven’t got a family. It’s just me and my boat.’

  ‘The case runs cold for Hemingway and Fernsby then. Maybe it’s best just leaving it as the perfect memory it is right now – an ideal summer of love that two people shared once upon a time long ago. Whatever is written in the letter isn’t for us to know. Unless, of course, curiosity gets the better of you at some point,’ Bea added, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘It won’t,’ he said, smiling. ‘Even though, I have to confess, I did hold it up to the light once to try and see if I could read anything, but I couldn’t,’ he admitted. ‘And I felt very guilty afterwards.’

  ‘And so you should,’ agreed Bea with a grin. ‘And did Martha give you any idea what your future held?’

  Immediately, Nolan’s thoughts turned to Hannah and Martha saying she would have wanted him to be happy. From time to time, Nolan had felt Hannah’s presence. On a couple of occasions, it had even stopped him in his tracks when he’d thought he’d smelled her perfume. There was just something about completely letting go and moving on with another person that he was struggling with.

  ‘No, not really,’ he said. It was a little white lie. He didn’t know why, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt restless about it.

  ‘There was nothing at all?’ probed Bea.

  Nolan was quiet. There was something about Bea that he liked. She’d been the first person he’d ever opened up to about Hannah and the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her ... but was that just going to make it more difficult when it was time to say goodbye?

  He swerved the conversation in a totally different direction. ‘I saw you had a visitor to the boat this afternoon.’

  ‘I did. He wants me to go home and make yet another fresh start.’

  ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  Bea shrugged. ‘It’s a difficult one. He’s all I’ve ever known. I know what I’m going to get and—’

  Nolan interrupted her. ‘Do you not think you deserve more?’

  Bea exhaled. ‘He’s part of the family.’

  ‘Is he though? As an outsider looking in, I’d say he was a man you dated and decided to live with. If that relationship breaks down, surely your family would stick by you, their blood. They would have loyalty.’

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘You put your trust in him and your loyalty. Did he give you the same back?’

  Bea heard Nolan’s point loud and clear.

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying any of this,’ he added. ‘It isn’t any of my business.’

  ‘It’s okay. I agree with you, but going back to my “real life” is what people expect me to do.’

  ‘People?’

  ‘Emmie and Carl. They think I’m out of my mind to just up sticks and move here. They think I’m deluded and that I’d never cope with the change of routine or living away from the town I grew up in.’

  ‘You deserve to be treated like you’re the only girl in the world.’ Nolan looked at her with such warmth that her stomach gave a tiny flip.

  ‘But it won’t be you that treats me that way, will it? You’re going to sail into the sunset and leave me broken-hearted.’ She brought her hands up to her chest and pulled a sad face. Even though she was saying it in jest, there was a tiny part of her that hoped Nolan would change his mind. But deep down she knew he wouldn’t.

  Hearing a woof behind them, Bea turned and saw that Woody, Julia’s blue roan cocker spaniel, had spotted a newbie in the garden and was racing towards the hammock. He stopped metres from Nolan and playfully stretched out his front paws, barking at him.

  ‘Woody, it’s okay,’ said Bea, laughing. ‘He’s not sure about you!’

  Hearing Bea’s voice, Woody began to wag his tail frantically and jumped up at the hammock.

  ‘Woody!’ The hammock began to sway. ‘Oh my!’ squealed Bea. She dropped her book and clung on to the sides but she wobbled so much that the hammock swung her right over into the strapping arms of Nolan, who caught her from landing on the grass – and, taking her weight, landed on his backside with a bump, Bea falling right on top of him. Thankfully, her ankle never hit the ground. For a second, they stared into each other’s eyes, their faces just centimetres apart. With her heart pounding and the chemistry fizzing between them, Bea mentally ordered herself to calm down.

  Woody thought it was all a game. He began to jump all over them, attempting to lick them, which made them both burst into hysterical laughter.

  ‘Is accident-prone your middle name? You shouldn’t be allowed out on your own. You’re going to end up breaking every bone in your body.’

  ‘That wasn’t my fault, it was Woody’s. I was quite happily minding my own business in the hammock.’

  ‘You can get off me now, before we both get licked to death by an over-enthusiastic cocker spaniel.’

  Bea laughed then realised she couldn’t get up. She was sitting on top of Nolan and would have to put her weight on her ankle to move. She looked towards the hammock. If she could grab that, she might be able to pull herself up. The only other option was to roll on to her hands and knees and let Nolan help her up, but that wasn’t very ladylike. On the count of three she reached up, grabbed onto the hammock and managed to pull herself upright. With her sore ankle raised behind her, she balanced on one leg before extending her hand to Nolan to help him up. Woody had now lost interest and was off up the garden, sniffing frantically after the scent of foxes.

  ‘I thought you were going to leave me down there for a moment,’ he said, grinning as he brushed himself down.

  ‘Death by dog licks is not what I’d want written on my gravestone.’

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she noticed that Nolan’s smile had slipped and realised that his thoughts might have turned to Hannah.

  ‘I best be going,’ he said, handing Bea her crutches.

  Her words had obviously triggered something inside Nolan and she could kick herself.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.’

  He touched her arm. ‘I know. It’s not you.’ He exhaled and looked at Bea. ‘Every time I’m having fun I feel guilty, knowing I’m alive and Hannah isn’t.’ He swallowed a lump. ‘I am healing, and getting stronger every day… It’s taking time but I’ll get there.’

  ‘You will. Do you want me to come back with you?’

  ‘I’m going to lose myself in some painting and there’s a book I want to finish reading but thank you. I’ll come over and pick you up for work in the morning.’

  ‘Okay, but I’m putting a cushion on that bike seat. My backside is so sore from earlier.’

  He laughed and began to wheel the bike towards the path that led around to the front of the B&B, Bea walking next to him.

  ‘You’ve got the hang of those crutches now,’ he said.

  ‘It’s easy when you know how. My ankle actually feels a lot better tonight.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  As they reached the gate Nolan hovered for a moment. ‘I do like spending time with you.’

  Bea could sense there was a ‘but’ coming, but she cut in before Nolan could say any more. ‘I know and you don’t need to explain. I’m not sure life is meant to be easy.’

  ‘It’s not.’ He leaned in towards her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. ‘But I am glad you’re here. 8.30am – be ready.’

  He swung his leg over the bike, pushed off and began to cycle up the lane. Bea stood and watched him go. Her heart went out to him. She knew he was trying to come to terms with the fact that life goes on, even after a devastating loss, but she hoped that their time together could help him heal a little more.

  Nolan was soon out of sight and Bea headed back to the garden on her crutches to finish reading her book. She was thankful that her ankle was feeling better. Hopefully in the next day or so she could return to the attic at The Little Blue Boathouse, because she loved waking up to that view.

  Hearing the sound of an engine behind her, Bea turned and saw a taxi pull up at the entrance of the B&B. The door swung open and a slim woman stepped out with hair that bounced above her shoulders – hair that wouldn’t look out of place in a TV hair commercial – and a sun tan that gave her a healthy glow and complemented her colourful dress. There was something familiar about her that Bea couldn’t quite put her finger on. She knew she’d seen this woman before but couldn’t recollect where. Bea never forgot a face so she racked her brains. No doubt it would come back to her soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nolan greeted Bea with a smile as he bounced the tyres over the uneven ground and attempted to pull a wheelie. She’d been waiting for him at the gate for the last five minutes and tapped her watch as he screeched to a halt.

  ‘You’re late!’ she trilled. ‘And that was a poor attempt at showing off.’

  ‘It wasn’t that bad,’ he protested. ‘Jump on board, your carriage awaits.’