The Cosy Canal Boat Dream. Christie Barlow
she set off up the towpath, her bag slung over her shoulder and her hands buried deep inside her coat pockets. She knew that the perfect place to lay Ollie to rest was on the other side of the marina, just by the lake. Over the wooden bridge there was a huge willow tree that adorned the bank and underneath its graceful foliage of arching branches was a bench where Nell and Ollie would sit talking for hours, watching the world go by.
Everywhere was peaceful, the ancient oak trees that flanked the gravel path swayed and the colourful daffodils danced in the light breeze as Nell dabbed her eyes with a tissue. She was struggling to accept that Ollie had truly left her, but she knew that however hard it was, it was time to move on.
She was on her way to meet her mum, Gilly, who she’d spotted in the distance standing on the little wooden bridge, throwing bread to the mallards below.
‘Come on, Nell Andrews, be brave! You can do this,’ the words whirled around inside her head.
Her mum swung round and smiled warmly towards her daughter, ‘Morning, you okay?’ she asked, throwing her arms open wide and giving her a hug.
‘Not really,’ Nell answered shakily, her eyes finally unleashing the tears she’d bravely been trying to hold back.
Gilly rubbed her arm, ‘It’s going to be alright, you know, in time. Come on,’ she encouraged.
Nell could only manage a nod, not trusting herself to speak. They linked arms and slowly walked over the bridge towards the huge willow tree and perched on the wooden bench underneath it. Nell clutched her bag against her chest, feeling close to Ollie for one last time. For a moment neither spoke; they just stared out over the tranquil water of the lake, Nell lost in her own memories.
It had been six months since the decision was made to switch off Ollie’s life-support machine, and she still missed him dreadfully. The pain twisted in her heart; it was still raw and never went away.
Every time Nell thought of Ollie, her eyes brimmed with instant tears. She remembered the night of the accident as though it was yesterday, and could still hear Ollie’s voice swirling around inside her head, ‘Gherkins, you want gherkins? Are you sure you aren’t pregnant?’ He’d joked.
‘Of course I’m not, it’s just that I’ve picked up some of those fancy biscuits from the deli and I could murder a slab of Stilton and pickles to go with them.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ he’d laughed, picking up his keys and kissing Nell lightly on top of her head.
‘I’ll be ten minutes max.’
He’d climbed on to his motorbike and pulled on his helmet. Nell had watched him disappear into the foggy night from the window of the boat. Once the roar of his bike had petered out she’d switched on the TV and thrown some more logs on to the fire. She’d drifted off to sleep and the next thing she knew she’d heard footsteps and a rap on the door.
Ollie hadn’t been gone nearly ten minutes; in fact he’d been away for over two hours.
The moment she opened the door her heart had sank and she knew Ollie wasn’t coming back. There, standing on the deck of their narrowboat were a couple of policeman, who’d informed her that Ollie had been knocked off his bike by a lorry. From that moment on, Nell’s life had descended into complete darkness.
Nell turned towards her mum, ‘I can still smell him at times,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper, ‘Is that madness?’
‘No,’ Gilly answered softly, feeling her daughter’s pain.
‘Sometimes, I wake up and I actually think he’s still there, lying next to me and then I remember – he’s never coming home. My life feels so dark all the time.’
‘You will get through this and be happy again,’ Gilly rested her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and pulled her in close, ‘I promise.’
‘When?’ Nell’s voice faltered.
‘One day,’ was the only comfort Gilly could offer. Her own heart was breaking seeing her daughter in so much pain. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked tentatively.
Nell nodded and bit down on her lip before looking up at the sky.
‘I love you, Ollie Andrews, with all my heart. The love we shared was so special,’ she paused, ‘Thank you for choosing to marry me and loving me so unconditionally,’ the words tumbled out of her mouth.
Nell’s eyes glistened with tears as she reached inside her bag and took out the urn. She stood up and clutched it to her chest, her hands visibly shaking and her legs trembling as she slowly walked towards the water’s edge.
‘This is our special place and I promise I’ll visit all the time. You just try and keep me away,’ smiled Nell through her tears.
She unscrewed the lid and scattered Ollie’s ashes into the air, ‘Goodbye, Ollie. I’ll love you forever.’
‘Goodbye, Ollie,’ Gilly whispered, standing by her daughter’s side.
They clung to each other as the tears freely flowed down their cheeks. Nell wished with her heart that Ollie was still here but that was one wish that would never come true.
Two years later …
Nell heard the creak of the door and looked up, startled, ‘Hey, I can’t believe you’re up so early. I noticed the light on.’
Bea was standing in the doorway of the Nollie, her breath misting. She was wrapped up tightly in her duffel coat, sporting a warm smile and clasping a white paper bag.
‘Come on in and shut the door, it’s freezing out there.’ Nell smiled up at her best friend.
Bea unbuttoned her coat and scooted over to the seat next to her.
‘I couldn’t sleep, I’ve had a bit of a restless night,’ admitted Nell.
Bea touched her hand affectionately, ‘Ollie’s birthday?’ Her voice was suddenly wobbly.
Nell met her gaze and they shared a sad smile.
‘Yes, Ollie’s birthday. The first of February.’
For a moment, they sat in silence, ‘Cuppa?’ Nell asked. ‘I think I can squeeze a couple more cups out of the tank and have a shower before the water needs filling up this morning.’
‘Yes please, and in there is a couple of warm croissants,’ Bea slid the paper bag over the table towards her.
‘Have you already been to the deli?’
She nodded, ‘I couldn’t sleep much either. I’m way ahead of schedule today.’
Bea owned the delicatessen in the hub of the marina called The Melting Pot, which was famous for its hot chocolate, savouries and scrumptious homemade cakes. Nell used to work for her part time, taking care of the accounts, but since Ollie had passed away Bea had taken her under her wing and she now worked for her full time behind the counter of the deli, serving customers, which was a welcomed distraction.
From the first day of high school Nell and Bea’s friendship had been cemented over a pair of laddered tights. Bea had saved Nell with a spare pair she’d whipped out of her bag and from that moment they’d become best friends. They’d sat next to each other for the next five years, then from the age of eighteen frequented the local pubs together. Bea had attended catering college and spent most of time testing out new recipes on Nell. Her work ethic was faultless and she’d soon landed a job alongside a well-known chef in the city of Lichfield. This had been Bea’s ticket to freedom, and she had escaped her suffocating parents, flown the nest and rented a flat above the delicatessen at the marina.
When the owners of The Melting Pot had decided to sell the business, Bea had immediately