Bea handed her crutches to Nolan who balanced them on the handlebars. ‘And how is the injured patient this morning?’

  ‘Very good. My ankle feels a lot better. I think I’ll take some baby steps on deck today, unaided, and see how I get on,’ she replied. Pointing to the seat, she asked, ‘What is that?’

  ‘A homemade cushion,’ replied Nolan proudly. ‘It’s a carrier bag with one of my shirts inside and I’ve tied it securely around the seat. It’s to give you extra comfort.’

  ‘I am impressed,’ replied Bea, a smile touching her lips. Easing herself onto the seat, she bent her legs back so that Nolan could easily get his foot on the pedal. With a huge push, he began to move, leaving Bea giving a tiny squeal as she grabbed on to his waist.

  ‘Hold on!’

  ‘I’m holding.’

  ‘How was the rest of your night? asked Nolan, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder as they whizzed along the river path towards The Little Blue Boathouse.

  ‘I had a phone call with Emmie.’

  ‘And how did that go?’

  ‘I told her that I was staying here for an extended holiday and I hadn’t made a decision about the rest of my life but when I did, she would be the first to know.’

  ‘That’s fair enough.’

  ‘Apparently Carl is heading home this morning. He gave me an ultimatum but I don’t think it quite went how he’d planned it.’ Last night Bea had watched 8pm come and go and she’d felt nothing except relief. There’d been a time when Carl had consumed her mind twenty-four hours a day – but not now. Bea knew her feelings for him were dead and buried. Even though he was all she’d ever known, it was time for a change.

  ‘But Emmie is coming to the meeting tonight?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m hoping it’s going to be packed.’

  ‘I think it will be. I nipped to the village shop earlier and there were posters everywhere advertising it.’

  Applying the brakes, Nolan slowed the bike and put both feet on the ground. He kept the whole thing steady as Bea carefully climbed off.

  ‘And how’s your backside doing?’ asked Nolan.

  ‘Just fine,’ she replied, smiling.

  ‘Yep, it looks just mighty fine to me.’ With a glint in his eyes, he handed her the crutches then pointed to The Hemingway. ‘There’s a ramp so that you can walk straight on to the boat.’

  Bea looked across at the wooden ramp. ‘You’ve been busy.’

  ‘Roman noticed the sign for the gallery and called in. We got to chatting and he told me there was a spare ramp on one of the water taxis I could use. He secured it to the side of the boat and it works wonderfully.’

  There was already a queue of tourists heading towards The Little Blue Boathouse, and with the sun shining it was clear it was going to be another busy day ahead. ‘I’d best get this place opened up ... and you need to go and make me some money,’ he said with a smile.

  Bea saluted. ‘Such a hard taskmaster.’

  Making her way towards The Hemingway, she was soon on board and, after making a cup of tea, she walked round inspecting Nolan’s paintings without the aid of her crutches, before opening the door to the deck, revealing the floating art gallery at its finest.

  The sun was already shining down and according to the weather app this was going to be one of the hottest days on record. She positioned her chair under the roof of the boat but where she could still enjoy the warmth of the sun, and, taking her notebook and pen out of her bag, began to prepare her speech for tonight.

  More and more boats were arriving for the River Festival. Bea had been added to the WhatsApp Community group and preparations were underway for an evening of spectacular fireworks as well as Martha’s special secret afternoon lunch cooked by Gianni, the chef at The Lakehouse. According to Isla, who’d posted in the group this morning, everyone needed to be vigilant because Martha was sensing something was going on and had begun to ask questions.

  ‘Good morning!’ Bea looked up to see Felicity walking onto the boat with a huge smile. ‘What a beautiful day. How are you doing? How’s the ankle?’

  ‘It’s getting better. I’ve just put some pressure on it and it’s feeling okay at the moment.’ Bea crossed her fingers. ‘Have you got time for a drink?’

  Felicity checked her watch and nodded. ‘A quick one. I’ve just dropped the aluminium urns off for tonight’s meeting. It’ll be easier to serve up tea and coffee with those. We also have a selection of refreshments to bring along later.’

  Bea stood and walked towards the kitchen. ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’

  ‘Just a glass of water will be great.’

  Whilst Bea poured her a glass of water, Felicity admired the paintings and the decor of The Hemingway. ‘Just look at this boat. It’s magnificent. I can see the appeal of living on the water.’ She sat down in a chair next to Bea. ‘Especially on days like this, with these doors folded back.’

  Bea handed her the water.

  ‘Thank you. And this gallery is such a good idea. These paintings are magnificent. Do you think if I asked Nolan to paint one of the teashop, he would? We could hang it inside.’

  ‘There’s no harm in asking.’

  Felicity took a sip of water. ‘And apart from your ankle, how are you doing? I think there’s a possibility I may have met your sister and your ex this morning. They ate breakfast, then he left in a taxi that sounded like it was en route to the train station.’

  Bea let out a breath. ‘He’s gone? That is music to my ears.’

  ‘Julia was telling me you’ve extended your holiday?’

  ‘I have, even though some people seem to think that I’m not capable of knowing what I want.’

  ‘And these people are?’ questioned Felicity, her tone warm and caring. ‘Sorry, you might not want to talk about it and here’s me firing questions at you.’

  Bea smiled. ‘It’s okay, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.’

  Felicity rummaged inside her bag and brought out a white paper bag. ‘A chocolate flapjack, made by Mother, is always good in a crisis.’

  ‘And you carry it in your bag, expecting a crisis?’ asked Bea, taking a piece from Felicity and devouring it in seconds. ‘This is so good!’

  ‘It is, isn’t it? It was one of those mornings when I thought, I’m taking some of that before it sells out,’ she replied, smiling. ‘It’s no good for the waistline, owning half a teashop, and most days I find myself walking in the direction of the chocolate shop next to The Old Bakehouse. Have you been in either of those yet?’

  ‘I daren’t. I would buy the entire shop. But I must go and take a look.’

  ‘So, who are these people who think you aren’t capable of knowing what you want?’

  Bea found herself suddenly emotional. ‘Everything is a little bit of a mess and I’m torn between what I think I want to do and what people expect me to do.’

  ‘Can you talk to your sister about it?’ asked Felicity tentatively.

  ‘It’s a tricky one.’ Bea didn’t want to be disloyal to her sister by bad-mouthing her but she did need to talk to someone. She was a good judge of character, and she could see that Felicity was a kind and caring individual. She also needed a friend right now.

  ‘We don’t see eye to eye on most things. Sometimes I think she forgets she’s my sister. She talks at me instead of to me, if that makes sense? Her way is always the right way and my opinion really doesn’t count for much even when it’s about me. I think she thinks I’m having a mid-life crisis, turning up here, despite my not being middle-aged. She also thinks that once I’ve calmed down, I’ll return home and go back to the same routine.’

  ‘And will you? Is the ex still an ex? He travelled a long way, I’m assuming to put your relationship right.’

  ‘You assume right. He cheated and it’s not the first time but my sister still thinks I should give him another chance.’

  ‘But it’s what you want that counts.’

  Bea was quiet for a moment. ‘I think I want to stay here permanently. It’s a very different way of living from what I’m used to but there’s something about this place that makes me feel good.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know where I’ll end up but I do know I don’t want my ex back. It’s just … every time I speak to my sister, I doubt myself.’

  ‘There’s a simple solution to that. Don’t speak to her about this situation. You need to come to your own conclusions about what you’re going to do. You don’t have to make a decision now. Just take each day as it comes. And you don’t ever need to feel alone. What you’ll find out about Heartcross is that we all rally together in anyone’s time of need. We’re your friends now and we’ll be here for you no matter what. You’ll see that for yourself when you meet everyone tonight.’

  ‘I have to admit I’m feeling nervous about the meeting.’

  ‘Don’t be. It’s good that someone has spotted what we need here in the village. It’s a serious subject and it needs to be addressed.’

  ‘I was reading online about your fundraising for the bridge. It was remarkable.’

  ‘Again, it’s just about recognising what the community needs and pulling together. When the bridge collapsed, we were stranded. We couldn’t leave the village, but with the power of social media we could get the attention of the rest of the country, and the more people that heard about it, the more who jumped on board.’

  Bea liked Felicity. She was warm and honest and very easy to talk to.

  ‘I hope you’re planning to stay and see this project through to the end. After all, it was your brilliant idea to get a river rescue up and running.’

  ‘You’re right. I do want to do everything in my power to bring awareness and make this happen.’

  ‘And judging by the passion in your voice, you will. As I said, don’t make any rash decisions about your life, don’t let anyone pressurise you, and take each day as it comes. I’m always around if you fancy a chat, a walk or eating flapjacks on a magnificent boat. Whatever is meant to be will happen.’

  ‘Thank you. It feels good to talk about this with someone who is impartial,’ said Bea. She still didn’t know if this was just an extended holiday and if she could really move away from home permanently, and her growing feelings for Nolan complicated things, but talking to Felicity had shown her she didn’t need to rush into any decisions.

  ‘It is good to talk, but we are all on a mission not to talk tonight.’ Felicity cocked an eyebrow.

  ‘Huh?’ replied Bea, taking a last sip of her drink.

  ‘We can talk about the river rescue but we all need to keep Martha’s birthday at The Lakehouse under wraps. She thinks something is going on and of course she’s right. She doesn’t miss a trick. It’s been difficult keeping Gwen’s arrival under wraps and I’m not sure it’s going to stay a surprise. But we’ve not long to go. So, fingers crossed.’

  ‘Isla must be very excited to see her mum.’

  ‘Oh, she is. It’s going to be an emotional reunion all around. Anyway, I need to get back to the teashop before my mum sends out a search party. I’ll see you tonight and if you ever need to talk…’ She scribbled her mobile number on a piece of paper. ‘Just call or text me. You don’t need to feel lonely in this village.’

  ‘Thank you,’ replied Bea. This really was a community like no other.

  ‘Looks like you’re about to get busy!’ Felicity pointed to the tourists who had just returned from an excursion and were now walking up the jetty and noticing the sign for the little floating gallery. They were heading Bea’s way. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’

  She walked across the ramp, stepped back onto the river path and climbed into her car, which was parked at the back of The Little Blue Boathouse. Bea welcomed the tourists onboard and they immediately passed compliments about the floating gallery.

  With a couple of sales already under her belt by mid-morning, Bea was happily chatting away to tourists, nearly all of whom said that if they could live in Heartcross, they would.

  ‘But why can’t you just up and move here?’ Bea asked a woman who’d just purchased Nolan’s painting of the bridge with the castle and mountains in the background.

  ‘Roots. You get settled into a routine and only really dream about living in places like this,’ the woman replied.

  ‘Dreams can come true though,’ replied Bea, handing the woman her receipt.

  ‘If only,’ she said with a smile before walking down the ramp, swinging her bag as she went.

  ‘But they can,’ murmured Bea. The woman had hit the nail on the head. ‘I’m young and carefree and what is stopping me from doing what I want? Absolutely nothing!’ Felicity was right, there was no pressure to make a decision about anything today or even tomorrow. All she needed to do was go with the flow and live for the moment.

  Feeling a presence behind her, Bea spun round to see a woman admiring the paintings. She must have stepped on board when Bea was serving the last customer.

  ‘Good afternoon. If you want any help don’t hesitate to ask,’ Bea said warmly.

  The woman nodded her thanks. Bea noticed that she was dressed immaculately, in a style that reminded Bea of a Hollywood superstar, with a lightweight head scarf and oversized sunglasses covering most of her face. The scent of her perfume delicate and classy.

  ‘These are very impressive; are you the artist?’ The woman turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder at Bea.

  ‘No, not me. The artist is Nolan. He’s currently working over at The Little Blue Boathouse. We swapped jobs for a couple of days because I sprained my ankle.’

  Bea couldn’t quite place the woman’s accent, but she was friendly and continued to praise the paintings as she walked around the boat.

  ‘Do you live here?’ she asked.

  ‘No, yes … actually, I’m not sure.’ Bea realised how confusing that must have sounded. She quickly added, ‘I was here on a two-week holiday and I’ve extended it, but now I’m considering leaving everything behind to start somewhere new. Are you from Heartcross?’ she asked. She loved finding out about people and their backgrounds.

  ‘Once upon a time, but I was a little like you. Weighing up my options. Everyone told me what I couldn’t do and for a moment I doubted myself, but after a family argument I upped and left and started a new life.’

  ‘Any regrets?’ asked Bea, then realised the question was a little intrusive. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that, curiosity got the better of me.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ The woman smiled. ‘It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. At first there were no regrets but would you believe after all this time I’m beginning to feel a little homesick? As we get older we start to think about our time left on this earth. It’s made me realise time is precious and I wish I could see my family more. Do you have family?’

  ‘Just a sister, and a bossy one at that.’

  The woman laughed. She carried on looking at the paintings, stopping in front of the painting of Morgan and Patsy. She lifted her sunglasses off her face and scrutinised it. ‘Who is this?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s Nolan’s grandfather and his one great love,’ replied Bea.

  ‘Who is she?’ prompted the woman.

  ‘Unfortunately, all we know is that her name was Patsy.’

  ‘You have a similar necklace,’ observed the woman, placing the sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose.

  ‘It’s actually the very same necklace. We found it recently.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, where did you find it? It’s very beautiful.’

  ‘It was inside a message in a bottle.’

  ‘Really? That’s unbelievable.’

  ‘Yes, really. It’s such a romantic love story.’

  ‘Do tell me more.’

  ‘This boat, The Hemingway, sailed into Patsy’s life many moons ago and she and its captain fell in love and spent the summer together. That’s really all we know.’

  ‘And who painted this picture?’

  ‘Morgan Hemingway himself. He was an artist too.’

  ‘There’s no price on it,’ noticed the woman.

  ‘Unfortunately, it’s not for sale. It’s the only painting I’m not allowed to sell.’

  The woman nodded her understanding.

  Noticing there was another group of tourists walking towards the boat, Bea said, ‘If you need anything or wish to purchase anything else, please give me a shout. I’m Bea, by the way.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, not introducing herself.

  Welcoming the tourists on board, Bea began chatting to them about their days and the excursion they’d just been on. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the woman had walked round and viewed all the other paintings and was now back in front of Morgan and Patsy. With her phone in her hand, she snapped a photo of the painting then left the boat and sat on the bench outside The Little Blue Boathouse.

  It was fast approaching lunchtime and after selling one more painting Bea glanced over to see Nolan locking up and bounding towards The Hemingway like an excitable puppy.

  ‘Lunchtime! I’ve been prepared again! This morning I picked us up some lunch from The Old Bakehouse and that fantastic chocolate shop next door.’ Nolan didn’t stop for breath. ‘Look at you without crutches!’ he enthused, pointing to her ankle.

  Bea didn’t react. She was looking over at the woman sitting on the bench. She’d taken off her headscarf.

  Bea’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘What’s up with you. What are you staring at?’ Nolan narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Not what. Who.’ Bea pointed. The woman had now taken off her sunglasses and was looking up the river path.

  Isla was walking towards her, holding the hands of both of her boys.

  ‘Who exactly are we looking at?’ asked Nolan, sounding a little confused.

  Bea watched as Isla let go of her boys’ hands and they began to run towards the woman. Her arms were stretched open wide, and a tsunami of tears was flowing down her cheeks. Having hugged both little boys, the woman stood up and embraced Isla, the two women clinging to each other.

  Bea grabbed Nolan’s arm. ‘Nolan, the woman. It’s the woman from last night I couldn’t place.’