Martha walked Nolan to the door.
‘When my grandfather passed away, I discovered some items he’d kept from around the time he visited Heartcross, and a painting he did of them both. In fact, it’s displayed on The Hemingway. It’s the centre of my new exhibition, but the only painting that’s not for sale.’
‘Displayed on The Hemingway, you say?’
‘Yes. I’ve opened an art gallery on the water.’
‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t help you with any of this.’
‘I knew it was a long shot, but I would have liked to meet Patsy and reminisce a little about Grandfather. I don’t even know if she would still be alive. I checked the cemetery.’
Martha raised an eyebrow. ‘What you might think is a romantic love story might not be how it actually was. People run away with nostalgia. Sometimes, things are better left in the past.’
Nolan had never thought about it like that, but Martha had a fair point, one he hadn’t considered. Patsy would now be elderly and, if she was still alive, she might be happily married, have children, maybe even grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There was a possibility she wouldn’t want a conversation about the past. She might not even remember his grandfather.
He stepped outside and collected his bike, while Martha stood in the doorway and watched him ride out of sight. The conversation he’d just had very much on his mind, his thoughts turned to Hannah, the life they’d had, the laughter and good times they’d shared. After losing her he’d built protective walls around himself, but he could feel that Bea had started to chip away at them, and he was beginning to wonder if the promise that he’d made to himself would soon become impossible to keep.
ChapterTwenty-One
Hearing the sound of gravel crunching, Bea looked up and saw Nolan wheeling his bike up the path towards her. He had a beaming smile on his face as he propped the bike up against a tree.
‘I see you’re taking it easy,’ he teased.
Bea was lying in a hammock that was tied up between two trees at the bottom of the garden. She’d spent the last thirty minutes enjoying the early evening sun whilst reading a book.
‘Absolutely! This is the life,’ she replied, thinking the norm for her at this time would usually be fighting her way through town to start the night shift. Lying in a hammock was definitely the better option.
Nolan stood admiring the view of the mountainous terrain. ‘This place is spectacular. It’s really something else. You can see why people don’t want to leave Heartcross once they’ve arrived.’
‘That’ll be everyone, except you,’ remarked Bea, noticing Nolan lost in thought for a moment. ‘You okay? I didn’t mean anything by that.’
‘It’s okay, it’s not you,’ he replied.
‘What is it then? For a second there, you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.’
‘It’s nothing. Honestly, I think the day is catching up with me.’
Bea wasn’t convinced and could see that Nolan had something on his mind but she didn’t want to push him. If there was something he wanted to talk about he would come to her in his own time. ‘How did it go with Martha? Anything to report?’
‘I couldn’t get close enough to the painting to see if it was my grandfather’s but it’s exactly the same style as his.’ Nolan didn’t elaborate on what Martha had revealed about Hannah. ‘But I did get a chance to ask her if she knew anyone called Patsy. She told me I should consider whether Patsy would even want to be found.’
‘Interesting. Did she give a reason for that?’ Bea sat up slightly in the hammock, being careful not to over-rock it.
‘It felt as though she was warning me off.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Bea, closing her book.
‘I might be overthinking things, but I realised when I was cycling over here that she never specifically answered whether she knew of anyone called Patsy. She might have a fair point though – Patsy might not remember that summer in Heartcross the way my grandfather did. And the more I think about it, what’s it going to achieve, finding Patsy? It’s not as though my grandfather is still alive to be reunited with her.’
‘But there’s the letter in your grandfather’s box,’ said Bea.
‘Maybe it’s best left unread. They may have fallen in love that summer but maybe a summer love was all it was ever meant to be. Maybe it just wasn’t their time.’
‘Do you believe in timing?’ asked Bea, curiously.
‘I do,’ replied Nolan, holding her gaze. ‘Timing is everything.’
Bea didn’t question him further. Maybe if she stumbled across Nolan in a few more years, they would have a chance. A loss like his would shape his life in different ways and she couldn’t imagine the pain he was still suffering.
