Page 24 of Starry Nights over Dragonfly Lake

Noah shook his head.

‘It’s larch,’ he replied. ‘Look, I’ll show you how flexible it is. Best thing for boats.’

Noah followed the man into his workshop and lost track of time as the man chatted away about boat craft. He hadn’t even realised that it had become completely dark outside, apart from the large work lights that the man had switched on to see.

‘You got somewhere to sleep tonight?’ asked the man, whose name was Michael.

Noah shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t care about sleeping outside. The sound of the ocean and the salty air made him feel fresher, somehow. It was certainly preferable to the hot and sweaty city where he had been living.

‘Look, now that I’ve busted my shoulder, I’m going to need a hand over the next few days if you fancy helping me out,’ said Michael. ‘I’ll pay you.’

‘Why?’ asked Noah, still suspicious. Nothing had ever come easily to him without a hidden clause.

‘Listen, I reckon everybody needs a break once in a while,’ Michael told him.

For a brief moment, Noah had had to blink back the tears. The one thing he had never been given ever in his life had been a break. Thankfully he managed to suppress the turmoil inside, something he had got very good at during his childhood.

‘Why me?’ croaked Noah, the emotion still bubbling in his throat.

‘Why not?’ asked Michael, with a sad smile.

And that was how his love of boatmaking had begun. Over the next few days, Michael had begun to teach him the craft.

By the end of the week, Michael had drawn him to one side. ‘You’re a natural,’ he said, nodding his approval. ‘Never seen anyone with that amount ofskill at your age.’

Noah had beamed with pride about himself, an entirely new emotion up until that point in his life.

It turned out that Michael’s apprentice had just left and he had been wanting more help around the boatyard. So it became a permanent arrangement. Now that he was finally earning money, Noah found himself some cheap lodgings and had stayed there for five years until Michael retired. He had pushed back against getting any academic qualifications. School had never been his favourite place. But he was lucky that his skills came so easily to him and after a couple of years, he could even teach Michael a thing or two with each new project.

By the time that Michael was ready to retire, Noah had become so good at his craft that Michael had offered to sell him the boatyard. But Noah had resisted. It was time to move on, he thought, still not wanting to get too close to anyone.

They shook hands that final day and Noah was able to say thank you. It was too small a phrase for what Michael had given him. A trade. A craft. A future.

‘Get yourself a boat of your own one day,’ Michael had once told him. ‘It’s freedom.’

At the time and over the years since, Noah had dismissed the thought but now he was sorely tempted as he stood in the barn and looked up at his inheritance once more.

He brought out his phone and took yet more photos of the boat. Something to carry with him and also to remind him what he was leaving behind. The boat was in no shape to be towed at that moment. It would have to remain at Maple Tree Lodge for a while longer.

Hopefully it was only a brief farewell, thought Noah. He would be back, he promised himself before he locked up the barn. He just had no idea when or how.

12

Beth stared up at Lily in shock before leaping up from the kitchen table. ‘Jeremy’s here?’ she gasped. ‘At Maple Tree Lodge?’

Lily sighed. ‘Dr Jeremy Prescott was how he announced himself to me a few moments ago.’

Ella crossed her arms and scowled. She was up to date with all of Jeremy’s philandering ways and once scorned, Ella’s good nature was lost forever. ‘Tiny,’ she said, looking across at the very large dog who had stood up to stretch. ‘Bite.’

‘He won’t bite,’ said Hannah, reaching out to stroke Tiny’s huge but extremely soft head. ‘I mean, if you want to hurt Jeremy we could always make Tiny sit on him.’

Lily nodded. ‘Honestly, he’s quite a weight now. With at least 50kg sitting on you, expelling the air from your lungs, I reckon it could do some damage.’

‘If not, I know of plenty of other ways that we could harm him,’ said Ella, her eyes glittering.

‘You know you’re quite scary sometimes,’ Hannah told her.

Beth took a deep breath and tried to calm down her racing pulse. ‘It’s fine,’ she announced. ‘I’ve got this. I can deal with him.’