The Cosy Canal Boat Dream: A funny, feel-good romantic comedy you won’t be able to put down!

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 44 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 45 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 46 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 47 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 48 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 49 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 50 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 51 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 52 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 53 (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Christie Barlow (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

For Agnes Barlow,

The brightest star shining in the sky.

Prologue (#ubb838fd0-8e8e-5b51-a79b-2b9651cc207d)

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 breath, smiled and glanced over at his overalls hanging on the back of the door. Once his yard had finally been sold, his overalls were all she’d kept. She couldn’t bear to part with them.

Finally, 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.