Blue Skies Over Wildflower Lock (The Wildflower Lock)

Chapter 72

Tears stung the back of Daisy’s throat as she stared blankly into the space. Her father’s paintings were gone. The one true connection she had to Johnny stolen from her and her heart was breaking because of it. They could have taken every one of hers. Every single item in the boat, if they had only left one picture for her to remember him.

‘I don’t understand why?’ she spoke aloud, though there was no one in the boat to listen. Yvonne was still waiting outside with Johnny.

Yvonne. The thought struck Daisy like a hammer in her gut. She had brought all her most precious items aboard the September Rose. All the treasures that she had collected throughout the years and not wanted to leave in Wildflower Lock, because she had thought they would be safer with her here. And now Daisy had let her down.

Daisy darted to the cabin, gulping deep lungfuls of air as she tried to steady her breath.

It was difficult to work out whether anything was missing. There were still dozens of crystals on the surfaces of the cabinets and bedside tables, while the lid of the heavy trunk was closed, and Daisy had no intention of opening it. Yvonne would need to do that.

Going into the room offered little in the way of relief. Until Daisy knew for certain whether any of Yvonne’s belongings had been taken, her feeling of absolute guilt would remain. Nausea struck again, so fiercely it caused her head to spin with dizziness. Dropping herself onto the corner of the bed, she buried her head in her hands, allowing her palms to stifle her sobs as tears dripped through her fingers. Why had she thought this trip would be a good idea? It was a miracle they had survived the journey on the Thames. And now this? It was like the universe was giving them a sign that they should turn around and go back. Daisy wanted to stay there, in that spot, and let the world swallow her up. But it was a selfish thought. She needed to face the music.

With her heart in her throat, she stood up, wiped away her tears the best she could, and headed back out onto the stern.

‘It’s a break-in,’ she said. ‘All my paintings have gone. Even the ones in the folders. And they took my dad’s too. I’m sorry, Yvonne, I don’t know if they took any of your things. Hopefully, we startled them. You’ll need to look.’

‘I will, love, but first I’ll ring the police.’

‘Yes, yes of course. I guess the more detailed a list we can give them, the better, right?’

Daisy stopped speaking, expecting Yvonne to respond, but the old woman’s lips were pressed tightly together. Rather than looking at Daisy, she was staring past her, into the boat, her eyes trained downwards as if she was looking at the floor.

‘Yvonne, what is it?’ Daisy said. Yet before Yvonne could reply, Daisy had followed her gaze into the boat. She knew exactly what part of the floor Yvonne was looking at.

After bringing Johnny in from the storm that morning, Daisy had mopped the entire kitchen and living area of the boat twice to get up all the dirt. By the time it had all dried, the floor had been practically sparkling. But it wasn’t sparkling now. Instead, it was marked with footprints. Extremely distinctive footprints with a highly unique grip pattern of a small, coiled-up snake.