The Cosy Canal Boat Dream. Christie Barlow

       Prologue

      Little Rock Marina was a beautiful place to live; linked to the Trent and Mersey Canal it was home to two hundred narrowboats and set in a ninety-acre woodland. Small boutiques, coffee shops and all things crafty adorned the jetty. Nell Andrews’ narrowboat was moored in a fantastic spot on jetty number ten, right in the heart of the marina, overlooking the popular deli. To the right of the deli was the butcher’s and to the left, a gift shop, which could only be described as an explosion of all things floral and shabby chic.

      Just a little way up the towpath was The Waterfront, an historic-looking pub with its reclaimed timber and brick, and a beautiful place to sit in the summer, overlooking the water, when the whole place became a hive of activity with dog-walkers and narrowboat enthusiasts.

      But Nell and Ollie’s favourite time of the year had always been winter. Once December arrived they’d enjoyed early-morning frosty walks around the marina, finding the twinkly lights that were decked on the roofs of the boats magical. In the dark evenings, they’d loved battening down the hatches and cosying up in front of the log burner, feeling content inside the ‘Nollie’, a name Ollie had come up with for their floating home.

      Nell and Ollie’s boat had been moored at Little Rock Marina for all of their married life. They’d met at college, aged seventeen, and the moment Nell had clapped eyes on Ollie, with his blonde corkscrew curls and infectious smile, she’d fallen in love. At the time, he’d been training to be a mechanic and she was studying business. Ollie’s passion was to tinker with engines; he was always at his happiest when covered head to toe in greasy oil, with his head under a car bonnet, and he’d opened a small mechanic’s yard on the edge of Heron’s Reach, a picturesque village, which was a stone’s throw away from the marina. It didn’t make a lot of money, but it had been enough to keep their little home afloat.

      In the past five years there had been nothing more appealing than waking up, throwing open the doors of their little narrowboat and watching the world float by. But recently things had changed for Nell. Now, as she clambered up on to the deck and stared vacantly at the clouds sporadically dotted in the sky, she allowed her mind to drift along with them. With one hand she clutched tightly at the grey woollen blanket draped around her shoulders and with the other held a steaming mug of tea. As she blinked back the tears and stared out over the tranquil marina, Nell knew that today was going to be one of the most difficult of her life.

      Two hours later, Nell flicked up and down her clothes rail trying to decide on an outfit. She knew it was silly to worry about what she was going to wear; Ollie wouldn’t mind what she was wearing when she said goodbye. She took a deep