Nell spent the rest of the day in a daze. After she’d finished work at the deli she wanted to clear her head and walked along the towpath, nodding at dog-walkers and boat-owners until a couple of hours later she found herself standing on the steps of Bluebell Cottage. The cottage looked beautiful at this time of year; the daffodils bloomed and danced at the edge of the path leading towards the old front door and clusters of crocuses had burst into bloom and encircled the foot of the old oak tree. Everywhere Nell looked, it teemed with life. She loved everything about Bluebell Cottage, her childhood home full of wonderful memories. Nell’s thoughts switched to her dad, Benny. They’d shared a real father and daughter bond and he had been kind and considerate and had always encouraged Nell to be the best at what she did, however hard she struggled. She smiled, remembering the time her dad had taught her to tie her shoelaces. She must have been about seven, and it hadn’t been an instant success, instead taking her numerous attempts over many weeks. But he’d had the patience of a saint where Nell was concerned, and finally, when Nell had mastered the art, he’d simply smiled and said he’d known she’d get there in the end. She was lucky to have shared such precious time with her dad.
As she knocked on the front door of the cottage she wondered what her dad would have made of her buying the Old Picture House. She glanced to the side of the cottage and noticed that her mum’s bike was missing. Usually it was propped up underneath the window.
She cupped her hand around her eyes and peered through the kitchen window, but there were no signs of life.
Rummaging in her bag, she fished out her keys and opened the door. ‘Mum, are you here?’ Nell called out.
There was silence, except for a thud on the ceiling above.
‘Mum, is that you?’
There was no answer and, as she peered up the stairs, she was startled to see three pairs of eyes staring back at her.
‘Phew, you gave me a fright, I forgot you were here,’ she said, heaving a sigh of relief.
The kittens padded down the stairs towards her and one of them arched his back, brushing his black and white body against her, ‘My you’ve grown, Oreo,’ she said, scooping him up into her arms. He snuggled into her neck and began to purr contentedly before she placed him back on the floor.
Nell wandered into the kitchen. She loved this room; it had a homely feel about it, with a round pine table in the middle and four chairs tucked underneath, a Belfast sink at one end and a sofa and coffee table at the other. This really was the hub of the house. Nell wriggled her nose, the aroma of freshly baked cake led her straight towards the cake tin. ‘Yum,’ she said, picking up a knife and immediately tucking into a slice of ginger cake. Switching on the kettle, she made herself a cuppa and texted her mum.
‘Where are you?’ she pressed send. Instantly, she heard her mum’s phone beep – it had been left on the kitchen table. Wherever she was, she’d left her phone behind.
Nell pulled out a chair and sat down, moving an old shoebox out of the way. She didn’t have a clue where her mum was, but she’d drink her tea and leave her a quick note to let her know she’d been. Glancing up at the kitchen clock she felt sad. She knew Guy would be well and truly back at home in Ireland by now, with Kate. She sipped on her drink and turned her attentions back to the old battered shoebox on the table. Nell didn’t recognise the box and as curiosity got the better of her, she pulled it towards her, lifting the lid.
Inside was a handful of theatre and cinema stubs, old programmes from the theatre shows and tickets to the old theatre in the next city.
What was all this stuff?
Puzzled, she sat for a moment and stared at the box before tipping the contents on to the kitchen table and rummaging amongst it.
‘It must be Mum’s old memory box,’ Nell said out loud. She couldn’t believe her mum had kept it all these years. Some of this stuff dated back twenty years or so. Her eyes darted over the contents of the box and as she began to look at everything closely, Nell’s mind whirled. There was one thing every memory in this box had in common … Lloyd Keaton.
Nell was mystified. What was going on? This didn’t make any sense.
Why hadn’t her mum said anything the other day when his name was mentioned? They’d even sat through a whole film together and she still claimed she didn’t know who he was. Then Nell remembered her speedy exit from the auditorium.
According to this box of treasures, it looked as if her mum had followed Lloyd Keaton’s career for years; actually, not followed, more like stalked. Nell thumbed through newspaper cuttings, magazine articles and could see that Lloyd Keaton was definitely a handsome pin-up in his day. Girls must have swooned over him.
Nell spotted a pile of envelopes bound together with ribbon. She counted over fifteen letters altogether, each one addressed to Lloyd Keaton and each one had been returned to sender, Gilly Harper …
She pulled on the ribbon, but noticed that each one of the envelopes was still sealed shut. None of it made any sense. This had certainly been some infatuation.
For a couple of seconds, Nell battled with her own conscience. Had these letters got anything to do with her mum’s odd behaviour? Her hands were sweating as she grabbed a knife from the drawer and placed it under the lip of the envelope. Why was her mum writing to Lloyd and why were there so many letters? It just didn’t make any logical sense.
Nell’s heart was pounding and she was just about to open one of the letters when she heard a thud against the window and recognised the sound of her mum propping up her bike. Panic rose inside, her fingers fumbling as she quickly scooped everything else back into the box. She closed the lid and stood up at the kitchen sink just as her mum walked into the kitchen.
‘Gosh, you frightened me then,’ said Gilly, bringing her hand up to her chest. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to see how you are. Feeling better?’
‘Better?… Oh, yes, loads better, thank you. How long have you been here?’ Nell noticed her mum’s fleeting glance towards the shoebox.
‘Long enough to make myself a drink and pinch a slice of that delicious cake. Where’ve you been?’
‘I’d been pottering about in the garden so I cut some flowers and popped them on your dad’s grave.’
Nell watched as her mum placed the cake tin on the kitchen table and swiftly picked up the shoebox.
‘What’ve you got there?’ queried Nell.
‘Ooo, you are full of questions this morning aren’t you? Where’ve you been? What’s in there? Are you sure you’re not the mum here?’ answered Gilly, completely swerving the question.
Nell narrowed her eyes and observed her mum. She seemed a little agitated as she put the box on the worktop in the utility room and firmly closed the door behind her.
‘More cake?’ she asked, smiling at her daughter.
‘Go on, then,’ answered Nell, not taking her eyes off her mum for a second.
Gilly slid a couple of plates on to the table, ‘You look tired today.’
Nell sighed, ‘I didn’t get much sleep.’
‘Any reason why?’
‘Guy flew back to Ireland this morning.’
‘How do you feel about that?’ asked Gilly, sitting down at the table.
‘Heartbroken, again.’
‘Sometimes life deals a card for a reason. We just don’t know what it is yet, but you’ll be alright,’ she promised.
He’d only been gone a matter of hours and Nell’s heart was already aching. She could picture the warmth of his eyes, the feel of his touch, ‘Well, I wish life would stop dealing these cards because it’s confusing the hell out of me at the minute.’
‘Would he have gone back to Ireland if it wasn’t for the baby?’
Nell shook her head, ‘I don’t think he would have. From what he said, his marriage was long over, but now there’s a child …’
‘That’s a recipe for disaster, mark my words. No marriage can survive without love or mutual respect and it sounds like there’s neither. Sometimes parents are better to be apart. It doesn’t mean they love the child any less. He’ll be back,’ she said reassuringly, ‘Trust me, I’m your mum.’ Gilly gave Nell a knowing look.
‘All I know is he’s gone and I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.’
‘Oh Nell,’ Gilly squeezed her hand, ‘You need to keep yourself occupied.’
‘Yes, exactly, and the Old Picture House project will be good for me. Oh, and talking of the project …’ it was now or never, ‘I was meaning to ask …’
‘About?’
Nell took a deep breath, her eyes turned towards her mum.
‘Lloyd Keaton’ she said out loud
Was it her imagination or did her mum just shiver at the sound of his name?
‘Who?’ Gilly stood up and avoided all eye contact with Nell. She placed the empty plates in the sink and wiped her hands on the tea towel before hooking it on the cupboard door.
‘Lloyd Keaton,’ Nell repeated.
Her mum’s pupils dilated, but she stayed composed.
‘The actor in that film. Are you sure you’ve never heard of him? He must have been around in your day.’
‘Listen to you … in my day … You need to remember, we didn’t have all this social media back then.’ That was the only explanation forthcoming.
Now Nell knew her mum was definitely hiding something. She just had to work out how to get to the bottom of it. She had a feeling that the answer was in those letters. But how could she find out the truth without it looking as if she’d been snooping amongst her mum’s personal belongings.
‘Oh, guess who I bumped into this evening too?’ prompted Gilly, quickly changing the subject.
‘I’ve no idea, who?’ answered Nell, going with the flow, but her mind still firmly thinking about the contents of the old shoebox.
‘Nathan, he was taking Jacob to the park and he told me the news!’
‘Twins! I know, who’d have thought?’
‘They are going to have their work cut out,’ Gilly said. ‘It was hard enough with one.’
‘Did you never want any other children apart from me?’ A question Nell had never asked before but had often thought about.
They stared at each other for a split second. Nell noticed her mum bite down on her lip, something she did when she felt anxious or uncomfortable.
‘I was content with just you and couldn’t ever imagine sharing my love. You were perfect.’
‘What about Dad?’
‘He felt exactly the same. We were over the moon to have one beautiful daughter. Now, what are your plans for the rest of the evening? I want to finish up in the garden. Do you want to help?’
There she goes again changing the subject, Nell noticed, shaking her head, ‘I think I’m going to take advantage of the good weather and hose down the deck of the Nollie.’
‘Good idea,’ Gilly said, sliding her feet into her gardening shoes and grabbing her gloves from the windowsill.
Nell stood up and pressed a swift kiss to her mum’s cheek, ‘I’ll see you in the morning at the deli.’
‘Bright and early,’ Gilly answered, waving a hand above her head and wandering down to the bottom of the garden.
Nell watched her for a moment before leaving Bluebell Cottage and strolling towards the towpath. She knew her mum was hiding something, she just knew she needed to get to the bottom of it.
The canal was busy for this time of year, the waters now dotted with brightly coloured narrowboats, chugging along. She watched a tawny mallard guide her six fluffy ducklings away from the oncoming boats into the safety of the bank and she smiled at a standard poodle sitting by his master’s side as he stood at the helm, guiding the boat through the calm water. The man saluted at Nell, who waved back as she climbed over the stile that led her back to Little Rock Marina.
Walking towards the moored boats, she squinted and noticed Ed in the yard, Sam was lying nearby on the flagstones, fast asleep. There were hordes of children, clutching balloons and party bags, who had wandered off the ‘Mugtug’, a barge for painting crockery, and pub-dwellers were beginning to frequent the tables outside the Waterfront pub.
Nell smiled at Fred, who was fishing off the side of his boat. He had a portable radio blaring out the latest horse race and then Fred punched the air with his fist.
‘Did you win?’ Nell shouted, smiling at his enthusiasm.
Fred spun round, ‘Aye, I did, lass. Makes a change. Glad to see you’re smiling. You seem in a better mood than your mum this afternoon.’
‘My mum?’ Nell was a little taken aback, ‘I’ve just been up to the cottage.’
‘I don’t mind people taking my boat, but a little common courtesy doesn’t go amiss,’ he grumbled.
‘You’ve lost me, Fred?’
‘This afternoon your mum swung by and took my boat.’
Nell was taken by surprise, ‘Are you sure it was Mum? I didn’t even know she knew how to row.’
‘Usually such a polite lady, too. She was definitely in a hurry.’ Fred rolled his eyes. ‘I asked her where the fire was and she blanked me. I wouldn’t mind, but it’s my boat.’
‘She didn’t even say where she was going?’
‘No, she tied up the boat a good hour and half later and didn’t even say thank you.’
Nell was bewildered. That didn’t sound like her mum at all.
‘Did you see where she went?’
‘Aye, she rowed straight over to the far jetty.’ He enlightened Nell by tipping his cap in the general direction.
She cast her eyes over the water, ‘She got off over there?’
‘Yes and straight on to that barge.’
She exhaled, ‘Much Ado About Nothing, Lloyd Keaton’s boat,’ she uttered under breath.
Nell swung to face Fred, her eyes wide, ‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘Yes, absolutely sure.’
‘Enjoy your evening, Fred.’ She smiled and jumped on the deck of the ‘Nollie’. She thrust her hands in her pocket and stood at the rear of the boat. Her heart thumped as she stared towards the narrowboat on the other side of the marina.
What was it with Lloyd Keaton and what was her mum hiding? Nell had no idea, but she had a burning desire to get to the bottom of it.