The Cosy Canal Boat Dream. Christie Barlow

‘With his life insurance and our savings.’

      Gilly had dismissed the subject almost immediately, leaving Nell feeling confused and squashed. It wasn’t quite the reaction she’d expected or wanted.

      That was the reason she was here now, knocking on Guy’s cottage door. She couldn’t get the notion of the renovation out of her head, despite her mum’s opinion. She wanted an outsider’s opinion, someone who didn’t have any emotional attachment to the situation.

      Nell stared up at Little End Cottage, the place was still picturesque even in the midst of February with the ivy entwined around it’s oak-beam porch and the smoke swirling out of the chimney pot above the thatched roof. There was still no answer; she hesitated then followed the pebble path around the side of the property.

      She stood on her tiptoes and peered through the window and caught sight of Guy walking into the living room, then she spotted Sam curled up on the chair by the side of the log burner.

      Guy looked as if he’d just come out of the shower, wearing just a pair of grey lounge pants as he stood in front of the TV towel-drying his hair.

      Nell found herself gazing at him, rooted to the spot, and couldn’t help but admire his toned, tanned torso. And there it was again, that tingle, goose bumps and flutters in her stomach that had been missing for so long.

      Suddenly, Guy jumped up in the air, flung the towel and began to play an imaginary guitar. As Nell watched his exaggerated strumming and lip-synching she couldn’t help but giggle. Just as he was about to jump off the settee she lifted her hand to knock on the window, catching Sam’s eye, who promptly leapt out of the chair and launched himself barking straight at the window.

      Startled, Guy stopped in his tracks, whipped his head round and locked eyes with Nell. He casually stepped down from the settee as if it was the most normal thing in the world and his face broke into a smile. Two seconds later, he opened the door to the annexe. Leaning against the doorframe he folded his arms and beamed, ‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock, I was just …’ His eyes twinkled. ‘I was just …’

      ‘You were just what?’ Nell cocked her head to one side and grinned.

      ‘You can’t beat a bit of Jimi Hendrix. That’s all I’m saying!’

      ‘If you say so,’ Nell bit down on her lip to quash her smile and secretly wishing Sam hadn’t spotted her at that precise moment. They stared at each other for a brief second before Guy remembered his manners and stepped to one side.

      ‘Forgive me, come on in. It’s freezing out there.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Nell brushed past Guy and stepped into the hallway while taking in his divine spicy masculine fragrance, which sent a tingle down her spine.

      She heard Sam sniffing at the bottom of the door, which he soon managed to nudge open before he excitedly came bounding towards her.

      ‘Hello boy,’ Nell said, crouching down and ruffling his ears. He thumped his tail and scampered down the hallway, then promptly returned with a ball that he dropped at Nell’s feet.

      ‘You have a friend there.’

      She smiled cheerfully, ‘That’s good to hear.’

      A wooden staircase adorned the hallway, ‘Here, let me take your coat,’ Guy said, hanging it over the banister.

      The hallway was lit by a lamp. Stripped wooden beams ran the length of the ceiling and it was extremely quaint and cosy.

      ‘Make yourself comfy in the living room. It’s probably best if I go and pop some clothes on.’ Guy gestured towards the solid oak door.

      Nell blushed slightly but couldn’t stop her eyes flitting over his body one more time before he disappeared into the bedroom.

      Sam followed Nell into the living room. It was just how she imagined it, the furniture was sparse and simple, a chesterfield, an antique dresser and a roaring log fire. She settled on the chair next to the wood burner and Sam lay on the rug at her feet, wagging his tail, his tongue hanging out whilst staring at his ball. She could hear Guy humming to himself, then he popped his head around the doorway.

      ‘Cup of tea before I sit down?’

      ‘Only if you have time?’

      ‘I’m sure Jimi Hendrix won’t mind, I can jump off the sofa anytime,’ he winked before disappearing into the kitchen.

      Nell gazed around the room. She noticed numerous photographs on the dresser and wandered over to them. She instantly recognised Guy as a young boy, sitting on a man’s lap in the front seat of a digger. ‘My granddad,’ Guy appeared, placing a tray of tea and biscuits down on the coffee table.

      Nell swung round startled, ‘Sorry, I wasn’t being nosey.’

      ‘Don’t worry, that’s one of my favourite photographs. Sugar?’ asked Guy.

      Nell nodded, ‘Just the one, please.’

      He passed her a mug of tea and she sank back into the chair by the fire. ‘So what can I do for you?’

      She looked up and met his gaze, ‘I’ve got a mad idea spinning round in my head and I’ve no idea what to do about it or whether it’s even doable. I’ve tried to talk it over with Mum but she seemed …’ Nell paused, ‘I think reluctant is the word I’m looking for.’

      Guy leaned forward and cupped his hands around his drink, ‘Sounds very intriguing.’ He joked, and stared at her with a curious expression.

      ‘So, I wanted to run it past someone …’

      ‘Independent,’ he finished off her sentence.

      ‘Exactly,’ Nell took a deep breath, ‘Okay, here goes,’ she exhaled, placing her mug on the coffee table, sitting up straight and tucking her hands between her thighs.

      ‘You know the old building on the wharf, the one we stood outside.’

      ‘The picture house?’

      She nodded, ‘That’s the one. If I said to you I was thinking of buying it and renovating it back to its original state, how bonkers would you think I was?’

      ‘On a scale of one to ten?’ he grinned.

      ‘I’m being serious.’

      Guy’s eyes widened, ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that, but if I’m truly honest I’d no idea what I was expecting you to say.’

      ‘You think it’s a daft idea, don’t you?’ Nell sighed, picking up her mug of tea.

      He popped a biscuit into his mouth, then slid the plate over towards her. She eyed him nervously, waiting for him to answer.

      ‘I never said that! With what intention?’ he asked.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘With the intention of selling it on to make a profit, or with the intention of trying to make a living out of it? What is your reasoning behind it?’

      ‘A romantic notion,’ she answered, as thoughts of Ollie flooded her mind.

      ‘I’m not sure a romantic notion is going to pay the bills.’ Guy’s eyebrows lifted a notch and he jolted Nell back to the here and now.

      ‘Ollie and I always talked about putting something back into the community, working on a project together and I think this it is. He wouldn’t want to see the place bulldozed for houses. That old place has history. I loved spending quality family time there, happy memories. Do you think it would be flattened for houses?’

      ‘That’s where the money is.’ Guy admitted reluctantly thinking about all the times his granddad had scanned the paper looking for opportunities, to renovate spare land to build new properties.

      ‘I can imagine,’ she took a breath, ‘but I want to turn back time, I want everyone flocking back to the Old Picture