‘Duh! You weren’t around and it’s only now I think it’s of some significance. What are you going to do about it?’
‘I think I should go and see Martha and ask her about the painting and Patsy. See what she knows. But in the meantime, it’s nearly lunchtime so I’m going to straighten up the kayaks, hang up the life jackets from this morning so they dry out, and take you to lunch.’
Bea pointed to the bike. ‘I’m not getting on that thing twice in one day.’
Nolan laughed. ‘You don’t have to. Lunch is on The Hemingway. It’s anchored right by the riverbank and I’ll carry you on board.’
* * *
Fifteen minutes later Bea was giggling like a schoolgirl. Nolan had squatted down as low as he could and she’d climbed on to his back.
‘Stop squirming,’ he protested, ‘otherwise I’ll drop you and that will be two busted ankles.’
‘Do not drop me,’ she ordered.
‘Wait until you see The Hemingway. I’ve done a little rearranging.’
With her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Bea briefly closed her eyes as she took in the gorgeous aroma of his aftershave. Nolan took a big stride onto the deck of The Hemingway and lowered Bea into a soft padded chair before jumping back onto land and grabbing her crutches.
Bea couldn’t believe her eyes when they went through the doorway. The inside of The Hemingway looked very different from the last time she was on board. The space had been cleared and – with the exception of a small living area in the corner – had been turned into a floating art gallery. All of Nolan’s paintings were hanging on the wall, with some displayed even more prominently on easels.
‘What do you think?’
Bea pushed herself up on her crutches and scanned the paintings. ‘I think you have a wonderful talent. It’s like a mini art gallery on the water, which was your dream.’
‘That’s exactly what I was trying to achieve.’ He picked up a wooden board that was propped up against a small table. ‘I’m going to leave The Hemingway anchored by the bank. I’ve spoken to Flynn and Roman about all this. If I stand this sign at the bottom of the jetty it will hopefully encourage tourists to come on board. Fingers crossed, I’ll make a few more sales than usual, and while I keep an eye on the gallery I can get more painting done.’
‘This is a wonderful idea.’ Bea was impressed. Nolan had set the area up beautifully and she loved each and every painting. Right in the middle of the exhibition was the painting of Patsy and his grandfather Morgan. ‘Surely you aren’t going to sell that painting?’ She looked at him.
‘No, but there’s a method to my madness. If it’s on display you never know who might walk on to the boat and recognise Patsy. It might spark something in someone.’
‘Good idea. She really is captivating, such a natural beauty … and look at that hair. It’s right down her back ... I’m planning to invite the local press to the River Rescue meeting – maybe you could have a word with one of the reporters about Patsy? You never know, their archives may just throw up something, especially from when The Little Blue Boathouse opened up all those years ago.’
‘Why didn’t I think of that? You’re not just a pretty face, are you?’ said Nolan, catching her eye and grinning.
‘Nope, I have a bust ankle too!’ Bea laughed as she pointed to the empty easel. ‘What’s going on that one?’
‘That’s something I wanted to talk to you about.’ There was a painting in the far corner, covered by a cloth. Nolan picked it up and gestured for Bea to sit down. She hobbled back to the chair and rested her crutches against the side of it. She didn’t know what to expect as he slowly uncovered the painting.
She gave a tiny gasp. ‘Is that me?’
‘Yes, I did it from memory.’
The painting was impressionist but it was clearly a girl, her face not visible but the red bikini clear. She was paddling at the edge of the water and in front of her was the view from Castaway Bay. The main feature in the painting was the seahorse necklace. ‘Nolan, it’s beautiful.’
‘I’m glad you like it and that you’re still wearing the necklace.’
Bea touched it then pointed to Patsy’s painting, where she was also wearing it.
‘Yes, I know. Would you mind if I put this painting in the show?’
‘I would be honoured,’ she replied, meaning every word.
He placed it on the easel, and it completed the exhibition. ‘I know it’s not in a proper gallery but I feel quite emotional seeing all my paintings displayed like this.’
‘And so you should. It looks fantastic. What a way to earn money, by doing the job you love from a floating home you renovated. When are you thinking of letting the customers through the door?’
‘As soon as you’re back at work.’
