Читать книгу The Cosy Canal Boat Dream - Christie Barlow - Страница 7

Nell heard the creak of the door and looked up, startled, ‘Hey, I can’t believe you’re up so early. I noticed the light on.’

Bea was standing in the doorway of the Nollie, her breath misting. She was wrapped up tightly in her duffel coat, sporting a warm smile and clasping a white paper bag.

‘Come on in and shut the door, it’s freezing out there.’ Nell smiled up at her best friend.

Bea unbuttoned her coat and scooted over to the seat next to her.

‘I couldn’t sleep, I’ve had a bit of a restless night,’ admitted Nell.

Bea touched her hand affectionately, ‘Ollie’s birthday?’ Her voice was suddenly wobbly.

Nell met her gaze and they shared a sad smile.

‘Yes, Ollie’s birthday. The first of February.’

For a moment, they sat in silence, ‘Cuppa?’ Nell asked. ‘I think I can squeeze a couple more cups out of the tank and have a shower before the water needs filling up this morning.’

‘Yes please, and in there is a couple of warm croissants,’ Bea slid the paper bag over the table towards her.

‘Have you already been to the deli?’

She nodded, ‘I couldn’t sleep much either. I’m way ahead of schedule today.’

Bea owned the delicatessen in the hub of the marina called The Melting Pot, which was famous for its hot chocolate, savouries and scrumptious homemade cakes. Nell used to work for her part time, taking care of the accounts, but since Ollie had passed away Bea had taken her under her wing and she now worked for her full time behind the counter of the deli, serving customers, which was a welcomed distraction.

From the first day of high school Nell and Bea’s friendship had been cemented over a pair of laddered tights. Bea had saved Nell with a spare pair she’d whipped out of her bag and from that moment they’d become best friends. They’d sat next to each other for the next five years, then from the age of eighteen frequented the local pubs together. Bea had attended catering college and spent most of time testing out new recipes on Nell. Her work ethic was faultless and she’d soon landed a job alongside a well-known chef in the city of Lichfield. This had been Bea’s ticket to freedom, and she had escaped her suffocating parents, flown the nest and rented a flat above the delicatessen at the marina.

When the owners of The Melting Pot had decided to sell the business, Bea had immediately snapped it up for herself, whipping it into shape with counter array of cakes, speciality cheeses and flapjacks to die for.

Nell had beamed with such pride for her friend on her first day of opening – the deli was a dream come true for Bea.

Bea was married to Nathan and they had one five-year-old son called Jacob, who was the cutest thing Nell had ever set eyes on. But as his godmother, Nell knew she was biased.

When Ollie had been alive, the four of them had been firm friends and had enjoyed most weekends in each other’s company, rambling around the marina and eating Sunday lunches at The Waterfront. Life had been perfect.

‘What are you doing after work today?’ asked Bea, ‘Would you like to come over to the cottage for your tea? Jacob would love to see you.’

‘I’d love to see him too, but I’m having tea with Mum, after we’ve visited the lake.’

Bea nodded, ‘How is Gilly? I’ve not seen her for a couple of weeks.’

Gilly lived down the lane from Bea in Bluebell Cottage, the same property in which Nell had lived for the whole of her life. Gilly was the proud owner of a vintage bicycle with a basket and a bell and could often be seen cycling around the marina.

Nell rolled her eyes and smiled, ‘She has her hands full at the moment!’

‘Intriguing. What’s she up to this time?’

Gilly, who was in her mid-fifties, but appeared much younger than her age, had been drowning in her own grief. Her husband, Nell’s father, Benny, had unexpectedly passed away from pneumonia five years ago – an event that had rocked their world. Since then Gilly had thrown herself wholeheartedly into every local crafty organisation in the village, from basket weaving, painting antique furniture and had even joined the pottery club.

‘Last week she was ferreting around in the greenhouse at the bottom of the garden when she found a tabby cat curled up in an old blanket on top of a bag of compost. She took it into the cottage and made it up a bed in front of the Aga. She thought it seemed a little unwell and a little plump and decided to make it an appointment at the vets for the following morning. There was no collar or tag. She didn’t even know its name, but by the time next morning arrived Mum found three extra bundles of fluff curled up next to the mother.’

‘Kittens?’

Nell nodded.

‘How wonderful!’

‘The little mews made my heart melt; utterly gorgeous to say the least.’

‘What’s Gilly going to do with them?’

‘She’s placed a notice in the vets and the local post office, but as yet no one has come forward to claim her. At the moment she’s named her Rosie, because she was lying on the bag of compost she uses to plant her roses, and knowing Mum I think she would be quite happy to keep them all!’

‘Maybe I could talk Nathan into homing one. I just need to make him think it’s his idea and we’d be on to a winner,’ she grinned. ‘Jacob would love a kitten.’

Nell smiled at Bea. She pictured her curled up in front of the fire after a long hard day at the deli with a kitten snoozing on her lap.

They both finished their tea, then Bea glanced at her watch, ‘The scones are due out any minute; I’d best nip back to the shop.’

‘What time is it? I feel like I’ve been up for hours.’

‘Just gone 6.45.’

‘I have been up for hours.’

‘I can easily sort out some cover if you don’t feel up to coming in.’

Nell shook her head, ‘Thanks, but I need to keep busy. I’ll be along as soon as I’m ready.’

Bea gave her a quick hug before flicking the latch and stooping down to climb through the door. Her footsteps echoed on the plank that connected the towpath to the boat as she ambled across towards the deli.

‘Right, Nell Andrews, it’s time to paint a smile on your face, life must go on,’ she murmured to herself, unconvinced, standing up and running her hand over Ollie’s photograph while she blinked away the tears. Birthdays and anniversaries always hit her hard.

Five minutes later, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. ‘Jeez, Andrews,’ she said out loud, smoothing down her wild hair and washing away the smudged eyeliner.

‘I really need to learn to take my mascara off before climbing into bed,’ she muttered, reaching for her wash bag. Then, just like every morning, she took out her pack of contraceptive pills. She stared down at Tuesday’s pill in the palm of her hand and suddenly had no idea why she was still taking these little pills after all this time. Everything had carried on in the same routine for the last two years. Her life had been on auto-pilot and she’d never wanted to completely let go of it, up until now. Even though Ollie wasn’t coming back, she felt strong enough to look towards the future. Nell switched on the tap and made the decision to swill the pill down the sink.

After a quick shower, she twisted her blonde hair up into a bun, threw on her favourite jumper and dabbed on a smidgen of lipgloss. She was ready to face the world. Once outside, the cool morning breeze whispered around her ears as Nell stood on the deck of the ‘Nollie’ and breathed in the early morning fresh air.

She glanced across towards the blue and gold lettering of a neighbouring boat, ‘The Old Geezer’. Fred Bramley had been their neighbour since they’d moved on to the ‘Nollie’. Nell found him an interesting character with his grey bushy eyebrows and matching beard. He always wore a flat cap and a nattily kempt white cable knit that resembled a cricket jumper. He was retired and spent most of his days sitting on the deck of the boat fishing, even though in all these years she’d never actually seen him catch anything. For a brief moment the doors of the flagship opened and Fred appeared on the deck clutching a mug of tea.

‘Good morning,’ chirped Nell, catching his eye.

He tipped his cap in acknowledgement. He was a man of few words but always gave a nod and a smile.

‘Have a good day,’ Nell called cheerfully before he disappeared back inside his boat. She gazed across at the other narrowboats with their brightly coloured names and flowerpots scattered on the roofs. Even in winter the marina was arrayed with colours that glistened in the early morning frost. This morning there was a chill in the air and, according to the weather forecast on the radio, it threatened snow.

‘Happy birthday, Ollie. I miss you so much,’ she whispered up into the grey sky.

As she stepped down onto the towpath she stumbled, then heard a loud yelp as she was knocked clean off her feet and landed with a bump.

‘Ouch.’

‘You okay?’

Startled, she looked up and then was yanked to her feet by two strapping arms.

‘Down boy, sit still.’ The man’s voice was firm. He clipped a lead on to an excited red setter, whose front paws excitedly danced.

Feeling like a fool, Nell swallowed, ‘Handsome dog.’ She had no idea where either of them had sprung from. A second ago, there’d been no one even in sight.

‘Killer dog this one. Not one for making friends,’ the man replied, with a massive smile etched on his face.

‘Really?’ she answered slightly bewildered. The dog looked harmless enough to her, in fact kind of dopey.

‘Yep, really, trained to kill, this one.’

Nell took a step back but didn’t take her eyes off the dog.

‘Watch this,’ the man cleared his throat. ‘Roll over.’

Immediately the dog dropped to the ground and swiftly rolled on to his back and waved his gangly legs into the air.

‘Killer dog, indeed,’ she chuckled.

‘Daft as a brush,’ the man replied with a playful grin. ‘I’m sorry, we weren’t looking where we were going.’

‘No harm done,’ replied Nell, brushing down her coat.

‘Are you sure?’

She nodded, ‘No broken bones, this time.’

The man was of average height, and as he raked his hand through his dark floppy fringe and pushed it to one side, Nell noticed his glistening hazel eyes. ‘Let’s hope there isn’t a next time,’ he smiled.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary and for the first time in a long time Nell felt a strange sensation, her heart gave a little flutter.

‘Your accent, Irish?’

He gave her a lop-sided grin, ‘It sure is.’

‘Not one you often hear around here.’

Nell was just about to introduce herself properly when his phone rang and he delved into his jacket pocket. ‘Excuse me,’ he smiled, glancing at his screen, then answered the call. Nell watched as he strolled up the path towards the boathouse. He flicked a glance over his shoulder and caught Nell’s eye, then waved his hand above his head. Who was that handsome stranger? She hadn’t seen him around these parts before.

She was just about to make her way to the deli when she remembered she needed to refill the water tank.

Damn.

If she didn’t fill it up now she’d be kicking herself later, especially if the weather turned any colder today. Unravelling the hosepipe from outside the marina shower block she stretched it towards the water tank of the ‘Nollie’. After hooking up the pipe to the tap and dangling the hose inside the tank, she switched it on, then stood and waited.

‘Aunty Nellie!’ She heard a squeal.

Spinning around she spotted her five-year-old godson in a pair of bright-yellow wellies clomping up the wharf, with Nathan quickly following behind him.

‘Aunty Nellie, look at my new wellies,’ Jacob screeched to a halt in front of her.

‘Wow!’ She squatted in front of him for a closer look. ‘Two questions, Jacob Green. Have you grown and do you think I can borrow those wellies?’ asked Nell beaming.

Jacob giggled, ‘Don’t be silly, Aunty Nellie, they’ll be too small for you!’ His eyes sparkled, then he giggled as Nell scooped him up in her arms and hugged him tight.

‘Daddy said you may need extra hugs today,’ Jacob said, and that familiar feeling of grief rushed to the surface as she placed Jacob firmly back on the ground.

‘Jacob,’ Nathan interrupted.

‘Are you sad today, Aunty Nellie?’ Jacob asked, pulling at her scarf and ignoring his dad.

‘A little,’ she murmured, pinching her thumb and forefinger together, ‘But all the better for seeing you,’ throwing her arms open for another hug and burying her face in his mousy locks. As he pulled away, tears threatened in Nell’s eyes. Nathan leant forward, squeezed her arm and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek.

‘We all miss him,’ he whispered softly in Nell’s ear.

She nodded and smiled. ‘So, Jacob, where are you off to this bright and early?’

‘Before-school club. It’s the only time Daddy can take me today.’

‘Day off work. I’m off to a trade show,’ Nathan answered. ‘I’m still searching for the parts to the …’ he hesitated.

‘Motorbike,’ Nell’s voice faltered. She had a sudden flashback of Ollie and Nathan stooped over the lump of metal, building the old machine.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Nathan said, gently touching her arm.

Over four years ago, Ollie and Nathan had decided to build a motorbike from scratch. The pair of them had spent hours in the shed at the bottom of Nathan’s garden working on the machine together. It was at times like this Nell missed washing his greasy overalls and hearing all about the mechanical parts that they needed next, even though she’d no idea what any of them did or what they were for.

‘You haven’t upset me. I’m doing just fine. Good memories are what I need to cling on to, especially on days like today,’ she said suddenly, swinging her head around and remembering that the hosepipe was still attached to the water tank.

‘I think the tank’s full. Jacob, are you strong enough to switch off the water?’ she asked raising her eyebrows in the direction of the tap.

‘I am, Aunty Nellie,’ he saluted heartily.

Bea spotted them from the deli window and joined them outside. Everyone smiled as Jacob clumped towards the tap. He grasped it with both hands and spun it around until the water stopped.

‘All done!’ He shouted triumphantly.

Nell gave him the thumbs-up and pulled the hose from the tank.

‘Will you ever live in a proper house, Aunty Nellie?’ he asked her and she cupped her hands around Jacob’s bright-red chubby cheeks.

‘I love my floating home,’ she answered, planting an enthusiastic kiss on top of his head.

Tears threatened again, thinking of Ollie and how proud he would be of Jacob, who was such a bundle of fun and growing into a remarkable young boy.

‘Right, young man, say goodbye to Mummy and Aunty Nellie. Let’s get you off to school.’

Bea kissed his cheek then swung him round before planting his feet firmly back on the floor.

‘See you later, alligator,’ Nell smiled, holding up her hand for a high-five.

They both stood outside the deli and watched Nathan and Jacob walk hand and hand up the wharf until they disappeared.

Nell felt a pang of sadness, ‘I only have one regret in life so far,’ she said sadly.

‘Which is?’ Bea answered softly.

‘That we never got round to having children,’ she replied, wiping away a tear. ‘I always hoped to be a mother.’

Bea placed her hand in the small of Nell’s back as they walked inside the deli. ‘You’ll make the perfect mother one day.’

‘Maybe one day.’

‘Definitely one day,’ Nell reassured her.