‘Woah, that’s a lot to be getting on with. Maybe some wealthy yachtsman is going to arrive for the River Festival and sail you off into the sunset.’
‘You never know.’ Bea grinned but automatically thought of Nolan. ‘I think I need to take some time to work on me. Put me first and do what makes me happy. Even though I’m not liking the sound of the danger Martha’s predicted.’ She passed over a handful of coins from her purse.
Felicity pointed to Bea’s necklace. ‘That’s beautiful and unusual. It keeps catching the light and it’s full of sparkle. It looks old.’
Bea twisted the seahorse around in her hand. ‘I’m just minding it for a friend but couldn’t help showing it off in the meantime.’
‘It’s very pretty. Have you been introduced to Aggie?’ Felicity was smiling at the woman approaching the counter. ‘This is Fergus’s mum, aka my future mother-in-law, if we ever get around to tying the knot.’
‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Bea. I’m working at the Boathouse.’
‘And I’m pleased to meet you too,’ Aggie replied, smiling at Bea before looking over her shoulder and then back at Felicity.
‘Are you avoiding someone?’ asked Felicity, looking towards the door. ‘You’re acting very suspicious.’
‘Martha. She has eyes and ears everywhere! Do you know how difficult it is trying to sneak Gwen into the country without anyone knowing?’
‘It’s like a military operation.’ Felicity turned towards Bea. ‘Gwen is Isla’s mum.’
‘The original plan was for her to stay at my cottage but we’ve had to swap her to the B&B because Martha keeps just turning up. We really need to make sure that Martha doesn’t get wind of it, even though I’m worried about how it will all pan out.’
Overhearing the conversation from the kitchen, Rona joined them. ‘Hopefully after all these years bygones will be bygones and they can put the past behind them.’ She wiped her hands on her pinny and looked at the three of them.
‘Gwen moved to New Zealand after an argument with Martha and hasn’t been back since,’ Rona explained.
Aggie raised her eyebrows. ‘It must have been one hell of an argument to be gone all this time! I imagine Gwen is a little nervous returning to Heartcross but hopefully seeing her grandchildren and Isla will outweigh any difficulties from the past.’
‘You’d hope so, wouldn’t you?’ added Felicity. ‘Now, we must stop gossiping.’
Rona disappeared back into the kitchen and Bea turned towards Aggie. ‘You don’t happen to know of anyone called Patsy that may have frequented these parts at any time in the past, do you?’ Even though Nolan had left the village, Bea was still wondering about Morgan and Patsy’s love story.
Rona thought for a moment. ‘That name doesn’t ring any bells at all, but then, I’m useless at names. Now Martha, on the other hand, never forgets a face. If anyone will know, she will. Is it someone important?’
‘Just someone that possibly worked at the Boathouse when it first opened. I love history and would love to learn how it’s changed over the years,’ said Bea, twisting the truth slightly.
‘Martha loves a little bit of history. I’d try her. Now as I’m watching my waistline … expand,’ she said with a laugh, ‘I’ll take a piece of that lemon drizzle, please.’
Felicity handed over a slice inside a paper bag. ‘Obviously on the house,’ she said with a smile.
‘And that’s why I love my future daughter-in-law owning a teashop.’ Aggie squeezed Felicity’s hand over the counter. ‘Whilst I remember, Flynn has closed The Lakehouse for a few hours for Martha’s birthday. The menu looks scrumptious… Oh! The very reason I came in…’ Aggie held up a carrier bag. ‘Old photographs of Martha that Isla found up in the attic. She suggested we could pick the best ones and project them on a screen at her birthday dinner. What do think?’
‘I think that’s a great idea. I’ll take these from you for now,’ said Felicity, taking the bag. Aggie waved goodbye and walked towards the door.
‘Before you go, Bea, have you seen the weather is changing over the next few days? Sometimes by the river it can get a little wild. In the past the river has even burst its banks. If that happens again, there are sandbags in the small outhouse at the back of the Boathouse. Stack them up by the door but don’t be stranded – you can always come and join us here at the cottage, or I’m sure Julia will find you room at the B&B.’
‘Thanks for the heads-up. I’m sure I’ll be okay.’
Bea thanked Felicity for the paper bag of goodies and headed out of the teashop to enjoy a walk in the sunshine along the banks of the river. As soon as she arrived back at the Boathouse, she headed up to her room, locking the main door behind her. Before sitting in the chair, she opened the window wide and enjoyed the blast of fresh air. Whilst eating her lunch, she watched the boats bobbing on the water, but there was still no sight of The Hemingway. Deep down, a small part of her had hoped it would be there.
As soon as she’d finished her lunch, and with Nolan still very much on her mind, she picked up her phone and googled ‘Nolan Hemingway’. Immediately, his social media accounts appeared and Bea was drawn to his profile picture. There was no denying he sailed a fine line between handsome and downright sexy. There was nothing Bea could really find out about his personal life. His privacy settings were tight, his friends hidden.
She hovered over the message button and thought about sending him a message but stopped herself. What was the point? One thing Bea had learned about herself in the last few days was that a casual relationship wasn’t for her. She couldn’t cope with the emotional turmoil it brought. She wiped away an escaped tear with the back of her hand. She’d felt a connection with Nolan but, judging by the way he’d upped and left, he hadn’t felt the same.
Being careful not to click on anything she shouldn’t, the only images that were viewable were his profile pictures. She smiled at the first one; it must have been taken years ago, because it showed Nolan as a young boy sitting on the deck of The Hemingway, dangling his legs over the side and holding a fishing rod, with his grandfather sitting next to him. He looked so young and cheeky. The next photo was of an older Nolan sitting next to a campfire, leaning on a guitar with a bottle of beer in his hand. After scrolling through a couple more photos, Bea stopped in her tracks. The next image was of four people standing around a BBQ, Nolan with his arm around the waist of a girl. Her heart racing, Bea zoomed in and recognised the girl from the painting. There was no mistaking the wedding ring on her left hand, but Nolan’s hand was hidden.
Bea exhaled. She didn’t want to believe that he was married but all the evidence was pointing in that direction. Feeling a fool, she stood up, took Nolan’s painting of her and slid it under the bed out of sight. Not knowing if Nolan had really liked her or if she was just another conquest on his trip around the world, Bea knew it was best if she forgot that he’d ever crossed her path. It was time to move on.
ChapterThirteen
