The Cosy Canal Boat Dream: A funny, feel-good romantic comedy you won’t be able to put down!

by Christie Barlow

  ‘It does, indeed. It also involves a film actor and a secret stash of letters.’

  ‘Any film actor in particular?’

  ‘Lloyd Keaton,’ answered Nell.

  ‘Get talking, Andrews.’

  Chapter 41

  Nell stared down at the white oblong cardboard box. It was five-thirty on Monday morning and for the second time this week she’d woken up with a bout of nausea.

  ‘No time like the present,’ she muttered to herself as she went to the bathroom and stared at her own reflection. ‘This isn’t how it was meant to be.’ She felt tired and rubbed her eyes. She’d always dreamed of having kids with Ollie, a proper family, but she’d never even considered it as a single mother.

  She was hoping the sickness would subside soon because this morning she’d been summoned to the solicitor’s to go through the final paperwork for the Old Picture House. Everything was finally moving forward.

  Nell splashed cold water on her face, took a deep breath and perched on the edge of the bath. She held the plastic wand in her hand, then took the plunge.

  For a full two minutes she sat tight, forcing herself to breath calmly. Deep down, she already knew the result. There was a strange sensation inside her body, one she didn’t recognise, her breasts were tender, a metal taste in her mouth and not forgetting the major give-a-way sign, there was no period.

  She took a deep breath and raked her hand through her unruly morning hair. She clutched the no-question-about-it-I-am-pregnant stick as the two bold blue lines glared back at her.

  ‘Shit,’ she said out loud, throwing the test into the bin and running the water for the shower.

  The timing couldn’t be any worse.

  Climbing into the shower, she let the warm water cascade over her face and sighed. Wasn’t the moment you found out you were pregnant for the very first time meant to be a joyous occasion? And what the hell was she going to do about Guy – he already had one baby on the way with his wife! And then there was the restoration project, not to mention the deli. What if the morning sickness began to take its toll and she left Bea in the lurch earlier than expected? It was all such a mess.

  Twenty minutes later, Nell was dressed, tucking into a bowl of cornflakes and staring out of the porthole. Her thoughts were all over the place as she spotted Bea walking up the towpath, swinging a bunch of keys and looking down at her phone.

  Nell quickly typed her a text, ‘Pop in before work.’

  Immediately Bea glanced towards the ‘Nollie’ and saw Nell’s face through the porthole. She waved and diverted towards the jetty.

  ‘Morning,’ she said cheerily, stooping through the door.

  Nell looked up, ‘Morning.’

  ‘Mmm, I know that look!’

  ‘What look?’

  ‘That look of panic on your face means you’re either mulling something over or you have no idea what to do about something.’

  ‘That’s what I like about you, Bea Green, you know me so well.’

  ‘Come on then, spill the beans,’ she unbuttoned her coat and slid into the seat next to her.

  Nell took a deep breath and scrunched up her face, ‘What would you say if I said …’ She stopped in her tracks and twisted her wedding ring around her finger. Even though Ollie was gone, she’d never felt the time was right to take it off. Now, all of sudden, she felt so guilty, which was silly as she hadn’t been unfaithful.

  ‘What would I say if …?’ Bea prompted.

  ‘If I said I was pregnant too.’

  Bea gave a nervous laugh while she studied Nell’s face, ‘Okay, now I can’t make up my mind whether you’re actually joking or not.’

  ‘That would be not joking.’

  Bea’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.

  ‘Nell, I don’t know what to say. I’m stunned.’

  ‘Not as stunned as me. We’ll be able to open up our own nursery at this rate.’

  ‘Maybe that’s what we should do,’ she said, still trying to take it all in. ‘So, what’s the plan of action?’

  ‘Get fat?’ Nell said with a light-hearted laugh. ‘Isn’t that what usually happens?’

  ‘You’ve still got your sense of humour, so that’s a good start!’

  ‘The timing couldn’t be worse.’ Nell gave a brief smile.

  ‘It’s not the best,’ agreed Bea, ‘But things happen for a reason. What does Gilly say?’

  ‘I’ve not told her. I’ve only just done the test.’

  They sat in silence for a couple of moments.

  ‘I’ve got so much to cope with at the moment.’

  ‘Any more thoughts on asking your mum about the shoebox?’

  Nell shook her head,

  ‘It’s been whirling around in my mind. I’ve got a few choices, tell her straight I’ve snooped in the box, tell her Fred told me she’d taken his boat or I could ask Lloyd straight out if he knows my mother. Whichever one it is, it’s on my list to delve further this week.’

  ‘Yikes, no offence, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes this week, however, if you need a right hand woman, I can be Cagney to your Lacey.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ smiled Nell, not relishing any of the choices.

  ‘He’d come back you know, if he knew you were pregnant.’ Bea threw it out there and the words hung in the air.

  Nell shook her head, ‘We don’t know that for certain and anyhow how can I put him in that position? I can’t make him choose between two unborn babies.’ ‘It’s a tricky one, I have to admit, but Nell, and I know I can say this to you, but don’t you think that’s his decision to make?’

  ‘I’ve not had much time to think about anything, it’s been …’ she glances at her watch, ‘about half an hour since I’ve found out.’

  ‘It’ll be hard on your own, single mum. No one to hand the baby over to for a rest. Every cry, every night feed will have to be done by you.’

  ‘But what choice do I have? He’s actually married to someone else, lives in Ireland, and is having a baby with her. I was stupid, it was a spur of the moment thing. I stopped taking the pill a little while back as there was no point and it didn’t cross my mind about contraception.’

  ‘Caught up in the moment, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last.’

  ‘I’ll manage, I’ll have to manage, there’s no other choice.’

  ‘There’s always a choice.’

  Nell shook her head and sighed, ‘Maybe this has happened for a reason, a sign to start afresh, my own little family, just for me.’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘Just don’t be overdoing it with the Old Picture House and everything.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise, and for the time being, can we just keep this between ourselves?’

  ‘Of course,’ Bea smiled.

  ‘And I know I shouldn’t ask you this, but I mean, from Nathan too.’

  ‘I promise, it’s your news, not mine to tell.’ She squeezed her arm in reassurance.’

  I just need some space to get everything worked out in my head.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘And that includes Mum. It’s early days. I’ll wait until the first scan until I make it public knowledge.’

  Bea nodded.

  ‘How’s Fern? Has she settled in okay?’ asked Nell, changing the subject.

  ‘She was very quiet at first.’

  ‘That’s understandable.’

  ‘I’ve had a chat with her about working in the deli. I think it’ll be good for her to interact with people again, build up her self-confidence and, of course, she’ll have me, you and Gilly to look out for her and support her.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘At first she didn’t want to be a burden, thought I was offering her a job out of pity until I put her straight. I know you’ll be leaving soon and with the twins on the way I will need someone to take over and run the place. I’d already asked Gilly if she wanted the responsibility, but she preferred just to do an honest day’s work with no a
dded pressure of ordering, accounts and banking.’

  ‘Yes, that sounds like Mum. And what about Fern? Did you convince her it wasn’t about feeling sorry for her?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. This week she’s going to take it easy. She has personal stuff to do, opening a bank account, change of address and all that stuff. So we agreed she would start next week, maybe mornings at first, and when she feels up to it and finds her feet, she can build up her hours.’

  ‘That sounds like an excellent plan.’

  ‘I best go and start the baking. Are you okay if I get off?’ asked Bea, standing up and zipping up her coat.

  ‘Yes, and thanks for being there for me.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me, that’s what best friends are for.’

  Nell smiled warmly towards Bea. ‘Actually, I know I’m abusing my position here, but I was already taking an hour out later this morning to tie things up at the solicitor’s and collect the keys, but can I just come in after that? I could do with just trying to get my head together.’

  ‘No problem. You put your feet up for an hour. We’ll see you in a little while and make sure the first thing you do when you arrive is put the kettle on!’

  ‘Yes, boss!’ saluted Nell as Bea disappeared through the door of the ‘Nollie’ towards the melting pot.

  Nell had a pang of guilt after Bea had left because she had no intention of putting her feet up for an hour. In fact, she had something more pressing on her mind, something that had been niggling away at her … her mum’s shoebox.

  Chapter 42

  Halfway up the towpath Nell spotted her mum pedalling towards her on her bike and her stomach flipped a double somersault. Gilly was humming away to herself and rang her bell at a passing narrowboat. Nervous butterflies began to flutter around her stomach at a rate of knots as she quickly hid behind the gnarled trunk of an old oak tree.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Nell muttered to herself, stealing a furtive glance around the tree towards her mum. She then breathed in and prayed she wouldn’t be spotted and, much to her relief, Gilly sailed past without knowing she was there. She waited until her mum was out of sight before stepping out from behind the tree and striding up the path towards Bluebell Cottage.

  Nell fished out the keys from her bag and heaved a huge sigh of relief once she was on the other side of the closed front door. She headed straight to the kitchen and popped her bag and the keys on top of the table.

  Her mum’s dirty breakfast dishes were still in the sink and a crossword puzzle lay open on the table. The only thing Nell could hear was the noisy hum of the refrigerator. She spotted the kittens curled up in their basket next to the Aga. One peered out of a sleepy eye, but the other two didn’t move a muscle. The adrenalin began to run through Nell’s body as she swung open the door to the utility room. She peered inside, but the shoebox was gone. She opened every cupboard door but still there wasn’t a shoebox to be found.

  ‘Okay,’ she said out loud, ‘Mum’s bedroom.’

  Just at that moment the letterbox clanged and she froze.

  The post fell on to the mat.

  ‘Jeez!’ said Nell out loud, her heart pounding.

  She dithered for a moment, making sure the postman had gone, before taking a deep breath and climbing the creaky stairs.

  Her mum’s bedroom was pretty, oak beams ran across the ceiling and the room had such a relaxing feel about it with its beautiful Laura Ashley floral duvet and shabby-chic furniture. The window looked out over the half acre of back garden, which was now in bloom with the daffodils dancing and the tulips swaying from side to side in the light breeze. Wisteria clung to the beams of the wooden summerhouse and beyond the garden the view stretched for miles and miles. Old oak trees flanked the edge of the farmer’s field, where ponies grazed and sheep were dotted alongside them.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened her mum’s wardrobe. Her clothes were hung in a neat fashion and her shoes stacked up in a row at the bottom. She stood on her tiptoes and peered on to the shelf above the rail. There was the old box of photographs that had been stored there for years next to a pile of neatly folded sheets. Nell felt around with her hand but couldn’t feel or see anything else.

  She quickly grabbed the dressing-table stool and balanced on top of it while she took a better look. There it was, pushed right to the back of the wardrobe, the shoebox. Her hands were shaking as she reached forward and grasped it. She climbed down carefully and settled on her mum’s bed with the box on her lap. ‘The little shoebox of secrets,’ she said softly, lifting the lid. Everything was still the same, the theatre ticket stubs, the newspaper articles and the letters tied up with the ribbon. As she pulled on the ribbon, Nell was fighting with her conscience.

  Open the letters, don’t open the letters.

  Nell knew that the moment she opened one there was no going back. She flicked through the envelopes, looking at the date stamps on the postmarks. The letters had been stacked in order, the top letter being the first one that was ever sent and returned.

  She ran her finger over the address and turned over the envelope.

  Why had so many been sent and why had so many been returned? The address on the front was a flat in Stratford upon Avon. That was about an hour’s drive away from Bluebell Cottage. Nell knew it was famous for being the birthplace of William Shakespeare and had fond memories of visiting the quaint town as a child. She remembered eating an ice-cream while sitting on a wooden bench next to the river Avon alongside her parents.

  Suddenly, one of the kittens jumped on to the bed and startled Nell, ‘We need to find proper names for you guys,’ she said, stroking the soft fur as the kitten arched his back then padded the duvet cover with its paws before curling up in a ball next to her.

  ‘Okay, little thing,’ she said to the kitten, ‘It’s now or never.’

  Taking a deep breath, she carefully slit open the first envelope. She knew she was over-stepping the mark, trespassing inside her mum’s life, but even though her head was telling her it was wrong to open the letters, her heart was singing from a different hymn sheet altogether.

  Her heart was racing as she peered inside. She had no idea what she was about to discover. Her hands began to sweat as she pulled out the letter inside. She unfolded the cream paper and a picture fell on to her lap.

  She looked down and gently picked it up. She stared at a photo of a new-born baby wrapped up in blanket, sleeping in a cot. Her mind went into overdrive. It didn’t make any sense to Nell whatsoever. Why would there be a picture of a baby in the envelope. She placed it carefully on her knee and her eyes skimmed over the letter.

  Dear Lloyd,

  I hope this letter finds you well.

  Please find enclosed a picture of the baby, she is beautiful.

  I miss you,

  G x

  Staring at the words in the letter, Nell was absolutely mystified. It didn’t make any sense to her. Why would her mum be sending pictures of a baby to Lloyd Keaton? And why did she miss him? The letter didn’t go into any more detail and Nell was left feeling as confused as she was before.

  Next, Nell began to read through the newspaper clippings and she became so engrossed that she jumped out of her skin when her phone beeped. Quickly, she rummaged inside her bag and saw a text message from Bea flashing on the screen.

  ‘Good luck at the solicitor’s. Let me know when those keys are firmly in your hands.’

  Nell’s return message was upbeat, even though guilt swept through her at riffling through her mum’s private life. Deep down, she wanted to open the rest of the letters but Bea knew she must leave now to make it to the solicitor’s on time.

  She stared at the letters in her hand before quickly stuffing them inside her coat pocket and then carefully returned the shoebox to where she’d found it.

  Twenty minutes later, Nell climbed off the number 54 bus in town and walked along the high street towards the solicitor’s.

  On arrival, the receptionist asked her to take a s
eat in a battered old leather chair outside Mr Forster’s office.

  ‘He’s just on another call, he won’t keep you much longer.’

  Nell nodded and waited a further five minutes until his office door swung open.

  Mr Forster was a man in his mid-sixties with a portly face and wearing a tweed suit. He looked over his round spectacles and then smiled towards Nell, ‘Come in, Mrs Andrews, and take a seat.’

  Nell followed him into his office and watched as he shuffled through some papers, before loosening his tie. She noticed a bead of sweat on both his temples.

  He cleared his throat and fixed an intense stare in her direction.

  ‘Have the estate agents spoken to you in the last twenty-four hours at all?’

  Nell shook her head.

  ‘I was just wondering whether you had any indication of what I’m about to tell you,’ he probed.

  Nell shifted self-consciously in her seat.

  ‘No one has spoken to me about anything,’ Nell felt confused, ‘Is there a problem?’

  He shuffled again through his papers and Nell was beginning to feel increasingly unsettled.

  ‘I must warn you that what I’m about to say next is not the norm when purchasing a property by auction. In fact, I’ve never come across this before in my time of being a solicitor.’

  Nell gulped away a lump in her throat. She was praying she hadn’t lost the Old Picture House. She didn’t think she could cope with any more surprises today.

  ‘I’ve been instructed by the vendor of the Old Picture House to return your money to you.’

  Nell was aware of the rising panic inside her, ‘Why? Is it no longer for sale?’

  Mr Forster looked over the top of his glasses again, ‘Mrs Andrews, they have instructed me to hand back the sum you’ve bid because they are gifting the property to you.’

  Nell’s eyes widened, ‘Gifting the property to me? Are you sure? Why would someone do that? I don’t understand,’ she said, feeling perplexed.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. The current owner is giving you the property and all the monies have been returned to your bank account.’

  Nell shook her head in disbelief. ‘Are you saying I’m still the owner but I don’t have to pay for it?’ Nell was utterly confused by the whole conversation.