Chapter 18
Daisy lowered her cutlery to the table, her heart drumming in her chest, the heat prickling behind her eyes. For a second, she was sure she must have heard Yvonne incorrectly. She stood slowly up.
‘You have one of my father’s paintings?’ she repeated.
Yvonne’s face pinched slightly.
‘Well, I should confess I’m not 100 per cent sure what’s in the trunk,’ she said.
Daisy frowned. ‘I don’t understand. How can you not know what’s in it? Surely you packed it?’
Yvonne’s pinched expression tightened. ‘Well, my clothes are in the rucksack, you see. The trunk I normally keep in my cabin. It’s where I put all my precious things. Folders of birthday cards and pictures people have done for me. My grandmother’s jewellery and my father’s pocket watch. Little gifts, that type of thing. I just pop them in the trunk to make sure I don’t lose them. But it’s been a while since I last had a look through everything. If I did still have one though, that is where it would be, and I can’t think why I would have given it away.’
‘Do you think you can check?’ Daisy said. ‘Maybe this evening? If that’s not too much trouble.’
Yvonne’s eyes sparkled.
‘I think we should get that bill now, don’t you?’ she said.
Daisy wished she could have sprinted back to the September Rose. She certainly had enough adrenaline in her body to do so. But she suspected Yvonne was only just keeping up with her at a steady marching pace. The last thing Daisy wanted to do was leave her behind, especially when she was the one who knew where the painting was.
‘I told you it was a good idea to bring that trunk with me,’ Yvonne said.
‘Absolutely,’ Daisy agreed. Never again would she complain about how difficult it had been to lug over the bridge, not if there was one of her father’s paintings in it.
As they drew closer to the September Rose, Daisy gave herself an internal talking to. There was no point in getting her hopes up. Yvonne herself had said she couldn’t remember when she had last seen it. She couldn’t even remember what was in that trunk of hers. It would be perfectly understandable if she’d forgotten where she placed Johnny’s work after all these years. Still, it didn’t quench the bubble of excitement that flooded through her as she stepped onto the boat and followed Yvonne into her cabin.
Already, Yvonne had laid claim to the space, with various photo frames and crystals sitting on top of the dressers, though, thankfully, she hadn’t burned any of her pungent incense sticks yet.
Slowly crouching, Yvonne unlocked the trunk and flipped over the lid. Daisy’s heart sank as she stared at the open luggage, trying to make sense of everything that was in there. There were photos, framed and loose, fabric, jewellery, pens, letters both in their envelopes and floating around. Not to mention all the brass objects Yvonne had told her about. It was full to the brim and if there were paintings in there, Daisy had no idea what kind of state they would be in.
Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, Daisy fanned herself with her hand.
‘Do you mind if I wait outside?’ she said. ‘I’m sure you don’t want me watching over you while you go through all your belongings.’
‘You do as you need, love,’ Yvonne said. ‘I can go through this. You’re right, it might take me a while, but if I’ve got one in here, I’ll find it for you.’
Still feeling woozy from the sudden heat that struck her, Daisy headed out onto the deck. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and tried to steady her pulse. After all, it was just a painting. Did it really matter that much if Yvonne found it?
Daisy’s eyes were still closed, and her mind lost in deep thought, when a voice broke her contemplation.
‘Excuse me?’ Daisy opened her eyes to see a woman standing there with a large, black dog on a lead. ‘Is this your boat?’
Daisy took a moment to gather her thoughts.
‘It is.’
Normally, Daisy would feel a sense of pride filling her chest when someone asked if the boat was hers. Provided that person didn’t look like an inspector, that was. But this time, her thoughts were too lost elsewhere.
‘How funny,’ the woman responded. ‘It’s got the same name as a narrowboat down at Wildflower Lock. That one’s a coffee shop.’
At this, Daisy shook her head, struggling to believe it.
‘Actually, this is the same boat,’ she said. ‘The September Rose. I’m just taking her on a trip for a few days.’
‘Are you, now?’ the woman said with an air of awe. ‘I don’t suppose that means you’re opening the coffee shop, are you? I could murder a slice of cake.’
‘Sorry,’ Daisy said. ‘I’m all sold out at the minute. I was open earlier in the day.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ the woman said. ‘I’ve heard such lovely things about your cakes. I’ll catch you next time you’re back at Wildflower Lock, though. You won’t be gone for too long?’
Daisy shook her head. ‘No, three or four weeks.’
‘Well, I hope you have fun.’
‘Thank you. I’m sure I will,’ Daisy said.
The woman offered one last smile before tugging on her dog’s lead and turning away.
Grateful for the solitude, Daisy was about to sit down and enjoy the quiet moment she so desperately needed, but no sooner had she pulled out a chair than Yvonne’s voice called her from inside.
‘Guess what?’ she said. ‘I found it.’