The Cosy Canal Boat Dream. Christie Barlow

day of opening – the deli was a dream come true for Bea.

      Bea was married to Nathan and they had one five-year-old son called Jacob, who was the cutest thing Nell had ever set eyes on. But as his godmother, Nell knew she was biased.

      When Ollie had been alive, the four of them had been firm friends and had enjoyed most weekends in each other’s company, rambling around the marina and eating Sunday lunches at The Waterfront. Life had been perfect.

      ‘What are you doing after work today?’ asked Bea, ‘Would you like to come over to the cottage for your tea? Jacob would love to see you.’

      ‘I’d love to see him too, but I’m having tea with Mum, after we’ve visited the lake.’

      Bea nodded, ‘How is Gilly? I’ve not seen her for a couple of weeks.’

      Gilly lived down the lane from Bea in Bluebell Cottage, the same property in which Nell had lived for the whole of her life. Gilly was the proud owner of a vintage bicycle with a basket and a bell and could often be seen cycling around the marina.

      Nell rolled her eyes and smiled, ‘She has her hands full at the moment!’

      ‘Intriguing. What’s she up to this time?’

      Gilly, who was in her mid-fifties, but appeared much younger than her age, had been drowning in her own grief. Her husband, Nell’s father, Benny, had unexpectedly passed away from pneumonia five years ago – an event that had rocked their world. Since then Gilly had thrown herself wholeheartedly into every local crafty organisation in the village, from basket weaving, painting antique furniture and had even joined the pottery club.

      ‘Last week she was ferreting around in the greenhouse at the bottom of the garden when she found a tabby cat curled up in an old blanket on top of a bag of compost. She took it into the cottage and made it up a bed in front of the Aga. She thought it seemed a little unwell and a little plump and decided to make it an appointment at the vets for the following morning. There was no collar or tag. She didn’t even know its name, but by the time next morning arrived Mum found three extra bundles of fluff curled up next to the mother.’

      ‘Kittens?’

      Nell nodded.

      ‘How wonderful!’

      ‘The little mews made my heart melt; utterly gorgeous to say the least.’

      ‘What’s Gilly going to do with them?’

      ‘She’s placed a notice in the vets and the local post office, but as yet no one has come forward to claim her. At the moment she’s named her Rosie, because she was lying on the bag of compost she uses to plant her roses, and knowing Mum I think she would be quite happy to keep them all!’

      ‘Maybe I could talk Nathan into homing one. I just need to make him think it’s his idea and we’d be on to a winner,’ she grinned. ‘Jacob would love a kitten.’

      Nell smiled at Bea. She pictured her curled up in front of the fire after a long hard day at the deli with a kitten snoozing on her lap.

      They both finished their tea, then Bea glanced at her watch, ‘The scones are due out any minute; I’d best nip back to the shop.’

      ‘What time is it? I feel like I’ve been up for hours.’

      ‘Just gone 6.45.’

      ‘I have been up for hours.’

      ‘I can easily sort out some cover if you don’t feel up to coming in.’

      Nell shook her head, ‘Thanks, but I need to keep busy. I’ll be along as soon as I’m ready.’

      Bea gave her a quick hug before flicking the latch and stooping down to climb through the door. Her footsteps echoed on the plank that connected the towpath to the boat as she ambled across towards the deli.

      ‘Right, Nell Andrews, it’s time to paint a smile on your face, life must go on,’ she murmured to herself, unconvinced, standing up and running her hand over Ollie’s photograph while she blinked away the tears. Birthdays and anniversaries always hit her hard.

      Five minutes later, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. ‘Jeez, Andrews,’ she said out loud, smoothing down her wild hair and washing away the smudged eyeliner.

      ‘I really need to learn to take my mascara off before climbing into bed,’ she muttered, reaching for her wash bag. Then, just like every morning, she took out her pack of contraceptive pills. She stared down at Tuesday’s pill in the palm of her hand and suddenly had no idea why she was still taking these little pills after all this time. Everything had carried on in the same routine for the last two years. Her life had been on auto-pilot and she’d never wanted to completely let go of it, up until now. Even though Ollie wasn’t coming back, she felt strong enough to look towards the future. Nell switched on the tap and made the decision to swill the pill down the sink.

      After a quick shower, she twisted her blonde hair up into a bun, threw on her favourite jumper and dabbed on a smidgen of lipgloss. She was ready to face the world. Once outside, the cool morning breeze whispered around her ears as Nell stood on the deck of the ‘Nollie’ and breathed in the early morning fresh air.

      She glanced across towards the blue and gold lettering of a neighbouring boat, ‘The Old Geezer’. Fred Bramley had been their neighbour since they’d moved on to the ‘Nollie’. Nell found him an interesting character with his grey bushy eyebrows and matching beard. He always wore a flat cap and a nattily kempt white cable knit that resembled a cricket jumper. He was retired and spent most of his days sitting on the deck of the boat fishing, even though in all these years she’d never actually seen him catch anything. For a brief moment the doors of the flagship opened and Fred appeared on the deck clutching a mug of tea.

      ‘Good morning,’ chirped Nell, catching his eye.

      He tipped his cap in acknowledgement. He was a man of few words but always gave a nod and a smile.

      ‘Have a good day,’ Nell called cheerfully before he disappeared back inside his boat. She gazed across at the other narrowboats with their brightly coloured names and flowerpots scattered on the roofs. Even in winter the marina was arrayed with colours that glistened in the early morning frost. This morning there was a chill in the air and, according to the weather forecast on the radio, it threatened snow.

      ‘Happy birthday, Ollie. I miss you so much,’ she whispered up into the grey sky.

      As she stepped down onto the towpath she stumbled, then heard a loud yelp as she was knocked clean off her feet and landed with a bump.

      ‘Ouch.’

      ‘You okay?’

      Startled, she looked up and then was yanked to her feet by two strapping arms.

      ‘Down boy, sit still.’ The man’s voice was firm. He clipped a lead on to an excited red setter, whose front paws excitedly danced.

      Feeling like a fool, Nell swallowed, ‘Handsome dog.’ She had no idea where either of them had sprung from. A second ago, there’d been no one even in sight.

      ‘Killer dog this one. Not one for making friends,’ the man replied, with a massive smile etched on his face.

      ‘Really?’ she answered slightly bewildered. The dog looked harmless enough to her, in fact kind of dopey.

      ‘Yep, really, trained to kill, this one.’

      Nell took a step back but didn’t take her eyes off the dog.

      ‘Watch this,’ the man cleared his throat. ‘Roll over.’

      Immediately the dog dropped to the ground and swiftly rolled on to his back and waved his gangly legs into the air.

      ‘Killer dog, indeed,’ she chuckled.

      ‘Daft as a brush,’ the man replied with a playful grin. ‘I’m sorry, we weren’t looking where we were going.’

      ‘No