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 ismylife 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.
ChapterTwelve
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.
