She was just about to make her way to the deli when she remembered she needed to refill the water tank.
Damn.
If she didn’t fill it up now she’d be kicking herself later, especially if the weather turned any colder today. Unravelling the hosepipe from outside the marina shower block she stretched it towards the water tank of the ‘Nollie’. After hooking up the pipe to the tap and dangling the hose inside the tank, she switched it on, then stood and waited.
‘Aunty Nellie!’ She heard a squeal.
Spinning around she spotted her five-year-old godson in a pair of bright-yellow wellies clomping up the wharf, with Nathan quickly following behind him.
‘Aunty Nellie, look at my new wellies,’ Jacob screeched to a halt in front of her.
‘Wow!’ She squatted in front of him for a closer look. ‘Two questions, Jacob Green. Have you grown and do you think I can borrow those wellies?’ asked Nell beaming.
Jacob giggled, ‘Don’t be silly, Aunty Nellie, they’ll be too small for you!’ His eyes sparkled, then he giggled as Nell scooped him up in her arms and hugged him tight.
‘Daddy said you may need extra hugs today,’ Jacob said, and that familiar feeling of grief rushed to the surface as she placed Jacob firmly back on the ground.
‘Jacob,’ Nathan interrupted.
‘Are you sad today, Aunty Nellie?’ Jacob asked, pulling at her scarf and ignoring his dad.
‘A little,’ she murmured, pinching her thumb and forefinger together, ‘But all the better for seeing you,’ throwing her arms open for another hug and burying her face in his mousy locks. As he pulled away, tears threatened in Nell’s eyes. Nathan leant forward, squeezed her arm and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek.
‘We all miss him,’ he whispered softly in Nell’s ear.
She nodded and smiled. ‘So, Jacob, where are you off to this bright and early?’
‘Before-school club. It’s the only time Daddy can take me today.’
‘Day off work. I’m off to a trade show,’ Nathan answered. ‘I’m still searching for the parts to the …’ he hesitated.
‘Motorbike,’ Nell’s voice faltered. She had a sudden flashback of Ollie and Nathan stooped over the lump of metal, building the old machine.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Nathan said, gently touching her arm.
Over four years ago, Ollie and Nathan had decided to build a motorbike from scratch. The pair of them had spent hours in the shed at the bottom of Nathan’s garden working on the machine together. It was at times like this Nell missed washing his greasy overalls and hearing all about the mechanical parts that they needed next, even though she’d no idea what any of them did or what they were for.
‘You haven’t upset me. I’m doing just fine. Good memories are what I need to cling on to, especially on days like today,’ she said suddenly, swinging her head around and remembering that the hosepipe was still attached to the water tank.
‘I think the tank’s full. Jacob, are you strong enough to switch off the water?’ she asked raising her eyebrows in the direction of the tap.
‘I am, Aunty Nellie,’ he saluted heartily.
Bea spotted them from the deli window and joined them outside. Everyone smiled as Jacob clumped towards the tap. He grasped it with both hands and spun it around until the water stopped.
‘All done!’ He shouted triumphantly.
Nell gave him the thumbs-up and pulled the hose from the tank.
‘Will you ever live in a proper house, Aunty Nellie?’ he asked her and she cupped her hands around Jacob’s bright-red chubby cheeks.
‘I love my floating home,’ she answered, planting an enthusiastic kiss on top of his head.
Tears threatened again, thinking of Ollie and how proud he would be of Jacob, who was such a bundle of fun and growing into a remarkable young boy.
‘Right, young man, say goodbye to Mummy and Aunty Nellie. Let’s get you off to school.’
Bea kissed his cheek then swung him round before planting his feet firmly back on the floor.
‘See you later, alligator,’ Nell smiled, holding up her hand for a high-five.
They both stood outside the deli and watched Nathan and Jacob walk hand and hand up the wharf until they disappeared.
Nell felt a pang of sadness, ‘I only have one regret in life so far,’ she said sadly.
‘Which is?’ Bea answered softly.
‘That we never got round to having children,’ she replied, wiping away a tear. ‘I always hoped to be a mother.’
Bea placed her hand in the small of Nell’s back as they walked inside the deli. ‘You’ll make the perfect mother one day.’
‘Maybe one day.’
‘Definitely one day,’ Nell reassured her.
The morning had passed quickly and by lunchtime the deli was pleasingly heaving with customers. There were the regulars who lived on the canal boats who placed frequent orders and those folks who were just passing by. Today everyone seemed in good spirits despite the miserable grey February weather outside.
Nell heard a clonk on the deli window and looked up to see her mum sliding from the saddle of her bike. She balanced the handlebars against the window and grabbed her purse from the basket. Catching Nell’s eye, she waved.
‘You’ve got to love the smell of freshly baked bread,’ she beamed, swinging open the door to the deli and sniffing the air. ‘Pop one of those bloomers in a bag for me, love.’
‘Good afternoon, Mum,’ said Nell, smiling, reaching for a lightly baked loaf. ‘Not too dark,’ she added quickly.
‘Are you trying to suggest my bloomers are burnt,’ Bea chuckled, scooting towards Gilly and kissing her on both cheeks.
‘Absolutely not, wouldn’t dream of it. Oh and one of those iced buns too.’
Nell reached into the glass cabinet, which was bursting with mouth-watering cakes and pasties while Gilly rummaged around in her purse.
‘They are on the house today, Gilly!’
‘Very kind of you, Bea, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. I hear you’ve gone and gotten yourself some very cute additions to your household.’
‘Indeed, you must bring Jacob over, he’ll love them!’
‘I will!’ Bea touched Gilly’s arm before disappearing back into the kitchen.
‘You look tired,’ Gilly said, lowering her voice as she spoke to Nell.
‘Honestly, I’m okay.’
‘My guess is you barely slept,’ she narrowed her eyes and gave Nell her ‘she knows best’ look.
Nell gave her a weak smile, ‘A little bit of a restless night, that’s all, Mum.’
‘Understandable. Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries