‘Have it as a present,’ he said with a warm smile.
‘I couldn’t possibly. I’ve only just met you.’
‘That’s true, but knowing you like it and it’s going to a good home is more than enough payment for me.’
Bea didn’t chip in that actually she had no clue where her home was anymore. She knew that as soon as she did, she would hang the painting in pride of place.
Nolan picked up the painting and turned it over. Reaching for an old-fashioned ink pen, which was lying on a nearby desk, he dipped it in an ink bottle then wrote an inscription on the back of the painting.
For Bea
She’s free to do want she wants,
Nolan x
‘I suggest you don’t try and take it back in the kayak. Let me know where I can drop it for you.’
‘Thank you. I’ll treasure it, I promise.’
‘I’m in no doubt.’ He smiled warmly.
Bea looked down at the final painting in the pile. ‘And who are they? They look like royalty.’
‘My grandfather’s Heartcross Princess, and that is my grandfather. He was an artist too.’
Bea couldn’t take her eyes off the woman in the painting. ‘She’s such a natural beauty ... and look at their faces, they look so in love. What’s her name?’
‘Patsy, and according to the stories of my grandfather, they were exactly that, in love.’
‘And do we know what happened to her?’ asked Bea, interested in their love story.
Nolan shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, I’m not quite sure of all the details. But remembering the story he told me when I was a little boy, I think my grandfather was here for the summer. Years later, he told me he’d come back looking for Patsy, but I’m not sure what happened.’ He picked up the painting. ‘Maybe, whilst I’m here, I could ask some questions. There must be some villagers who are still around from that time, though I only have her first name to go by.’
‘There has got to be someone who knows something.’
‘Before my grandfather passed away, he was very weak. My hands were cupped around his and he murmured “Patsy” and “Heartcross”.’ Nolan’s voice faltered. ‘Whoever this woman is, she was on his mind before he passed away.’
‘That’s beautiful but a little sad too. Did you have a grandmother?’
‘My grandmother upped and left a long time ago and my mum was a single parent who passed away over ten years ago, leaving just me and grandfather. I always wondered what it would be like to be a part of a big family.’
‘I have a sister. She’s married and I have a niece and nephew. Sometimes she can be a little bossy – offering her opinion an awful lot and being overbearing – and she thinks I’m mad for coming away on my own.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But of course, I love her.’
‘Sometimes, we need space from what we know and from the norm. And no one is mad who comes to this place. I mean, just look at that view. The whitewashed cliffs, the bridge, the castle, the mountain…’
They both looked towards the bridge.
‘When my grandfather told me stories about this place, he spoke with such happiness – and the second I sailed in, I could see why. It will be difficult to leave.’
‘How long are you staying for?
‘Just until the River Festival and then I’ll head wherever the logbook takes me next. But before that happens, if I could find Patsy and tell her how much my grandfather thought about her, wouldn’t that be fantastic?’
‘It would. There must be something really special about this woman for him to still remember her years later.’
‘I believe so.’ Nolan looked at the painting and for a second Bea thought he was going to say something else, but he changed his mind and they stepped into the small kitchen area, which was fully equipped and had large windows with a view of the craggy white cliffs.
‘Waking up and making a brew to that view must be … just wow!’
