Plastering a smile on her face, Bea welcomed the tourists onto The Hemingway. They breezed between the pictures, giving them lots of praise, and before she knew it, Bea had sold three on the bounce. On the table next to where she sat, Nolan had left tissue paper, paper bags and a card reader. He’d thought of everything. She chatted away to the customers and was trying to enjoy herself, but knowing that Carl was looming at the back of the group was putting her on edge. As soon as she was free, she looked in his direction.
‘Are you buying a painting?’ she asked, knowing full well that wasn’t the reason he was here.
‘May I?’ He pointed to the chair next to her.
Bea nodded. He looked upset but this wasn’t something that was new to her. Last time he’d also turned on the tears, promising her the world, but things clearly never changed. She didn’t like to see anyone upset, but he should have thought about how his actions would affect her.
‘Please come home. I promise you things will change. I want the same as you, marriage, children, a proper home.’
‘When was the last time you asked me what I wanted?’
‘I know you don’t want all this…’ He waved his arm around the boat. ‘You don’t really want to be here, do you?’
Bea felt her heart begin to race for all the wrong reasons. ‘Why wouldn’t I want to be here?’
‘Because it’s not home. I know what you like. You like getting in from work and having a brew in the garden no matter how cold it is. You like watching box sets curled up with a box of chocolates with your fluffy throw. You like being a home bird surrounded by what you know. I know I’ve made a mistake and I’m sorry but please let me put this right. Our song is Rick Astley, “Never Going to Give You up”, and that’s my motto. It’s me and you.’
Bea had to admit that he did look genuinely sorry. He reached across and put his hand on her knee. His eyes were brimming with tears as he pleaded with her.
She thought about everything he’d said.
‘And you’re genuinely sorry?’
‘I am,’ he replied.
‘I’ll accept your apology.’
Carl exhaled. ‘I knew you’d come round.’
Bea wasn’t smiling. ‘Like I’ve just said, I accept your apology but there is no us. That ended when you made a fool out of me for a second time. Yes, I may like all those things you’ve just listed, but I can do them wherever I am,’ she said calmly.
‘You don’t belong here. You know you don’t.’ Carl stood up and took a couple of steps forward. He raked his hand through his hair, something he did when he was frustrated. ‘All this is a holiday and you’re turning it into a deluded dream.’ He walked off towards the paintings and Bea hoped he was taking a moment to calm down. He hovered in front of the painting of Patsy and Morgan before moving slowly on to the next then spinning back around towards her. His eyes were wide, and he now looked angry. Bea wasn’t quite sure what was going on but noticed his eyes were fixed on the seahorse necklace hanging around her neck.
‘Who’s the artist?’ Carl asked, not taking his eyes off her.
‘Nolan Hemingway.’
Carl pointed at the painting of Bea enjoying her day on Castaway Bay. ‘Is this you?’
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘And are you and him…?’
The question hung in the air.
Carl exhaled again. ‘We’ve been through so much together and this is just a blip. There’s always going to be good and bad times and we can get through anything. As a team. Please, can we put everything behind us? I just want you back at home where you belong.’
Bea didn’t answer.
‘Just think about it. Like I said, I’m staying at Starcross Manor. I’ll wait around for you until 8pm tomorrow night. If you don’t turn up, I’ll know you aren’t coming home and I won’t ever contact you again.’ His ultimatum issued, he walked off the boat and made his way up the riverbank.
Bea was nonplussed. Could they put it all behind them and start again? But then her eyes flicked towards The Little Blue Boathouse, where Nolan was leaning against the door, drinking from a mug. He looked devilishly handsome. He smiled over at her and just his smile raised Bea’s spirits. He waved before disappearing inside.
Bea glanced towards the little attic room above The Little Blue Boathouse. She was conflicted. Was this just a holiday, a blip in her life, as Carl said? How would she feel about this place once Nolan had left? So many questions were whirling in her mind.
ChapterNineteen
Bea let out a squeal, her arms gripped tightly around Nolan’s waist. She was laughing hard as Nolan pedalled the bike over the bumpy ground. With the wind in her hair, she closed her eyes and prayed she didn’t fall off. ‘Slow down, you’re going too fast,’ she bellowed.
