Chapter 20
Mac was even more nervous about his sister coming round than he had been about visiting Evan and his wife. It was ridiculous. He and Stella had grown up together. She was three years younger than him and had been his best pal when they were little.
Even in the early days of their marriages the two of them had been close. Stella was his son Wyatt’s godmother, for goodness’ sake, and he and Gavin had got on well, as had Stella and Lynne.
That, he supposed, was part of the problem. He had a feeling that Stella was living in the past far too much and was nursing grudges that she simply couldn’t let go. And there was the other problem of course. Gavin. She couldn’t let go of him either by the sounds of things.
He’d added a cake and Stella’s favourite brand of coffee to the supermarket basket after he’d said goodbye to the Wainwrights, even though he wasn’t sure his sister would stay long enough to partake of anything.
It depended what sort of mood she was in, and how quickly his words would inflame her.
Because they were bound to, he thought wearily.
She wanted him to sell the land to her ex-husband.
He wasn’t going to agree to that. Where did that leave them?
When the rap on the door came, he found himself smoothing down his shirt and swallowing nervously, as if he was going on a first date or something. He glanced over at Mrs Beddows, who stopped washing her paws and eyed him innocently.
‘Wish me luck.’
She gave him a look of contempt and went back to washing her paws. It was too late to ask the same of Carne. He’d shot into the hallway and was yapping excitedly at the front door, no doubt recognising their visitor already.
‘Good afternoon, Stella.’
She was dressed for the late February weather in a smart navy-blue coat, black knee-high boots, a hat, gloves and a scarf, which was pulled up over her nose as if she was planning on committing a robbery. She might as well have worn a balaclava.
‘Come in,’ he began, but she’d already pushed past him, ignoring Carne, and headed straight to the kitchen where she plonked herself at the table, dropped her bag in front of her and folded her arms.
‘Well,’ he said, giving her a resigned look, ‘you might as well take your hat and coat off. Unless you’re not stopping?’
‘That depends on you,’ she said, her voice muffled under the scarf. ‘Are you willing to have a reasonable discussion or are you going to close me down the minute I open my mouth?’
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her there was nothing to discuss, but he knew she’d simply storm out without a backward glance, and where would that get them? He missed her. He’d lost enough people in his life. He didn’t want to lose his sister for good, too.
‘I’m willing to have a reasonable discussion,’ he said. ‘Tea? Coffee?’
She shook her head, pushing down her scarf. ‘Haven’t you got anything stronger?’ she asked irritably. ‘Surely there’s some of Mum’s wine left? Or have you drunk it all?’
‘You’re not driving?’
She shrugged. ‘I came by taxi so I could have a drink.’
Stella lived in the next village, which was Weltringham, just a five-minute drive away, so it wouldn’t have been too expensive – although the nearest taxi company was based in Millensea.
Looking at her face, he had a feeling she’d still have demanded wine, even if she’d lived miles away and the taxi had cost her a fortune.
Stella never used to drink before dinner, and it was on the tip of his tongue to remark on that, but he decided not to risk antagonising her further.
‘Fair enough. I’ll open a bottle.’
He wasn’t a wine drinker himself, but there was still an unopened bottle in the fridge from when his mum had lived there. He handed it to Stella, along with a glass, and popped another one from the wine rack into the fridge.
‘Aren’t you having one?’
‘No. I like to keep a clear head.’
She unscrewed the cap on the bottle. ‘Hoping I’ll get drunk and you can wangle an agreement out of me?’
‘No agenda, Stell. I just don’t like to lose control,’ he said evenly.
She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
He made himself a cup of tea and found plates for the cake.
‘None for me,’ Stella said. ‘I’ve given it up for Lent.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know you were religious?’
‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Since I moved to Weltringham I’ve been going to the church quite regularly. It’s only across the road from me, after all. I find it quite a comfort.’
‘Right. That’s a shame. About Lent, I mean, not you going to church. I got you your favourite. Chocolate fudge cake.’
Stella drained her glass and poured herself another. ‘Well, it can’t be helped.’
He put the cake back in the cupboard. It wouldn’t be fair to eat it in front of her. He carried his tea over to the table and sat down opposite her.
‘Are you sure you want to sit in here?’ he asked. ‘We can go through to the living room, or the snug if you prefer.’
‘I’m fine here. It’s more businesslike.’
He sighed. ‘Do we have to be businesslike? Can’t we just be brother and sister for a change?’
‘Are you trying to swindle me already?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you said you were willing to have a discussion.’
‘I am! It’s just – can’t we have a discussion in comfort? Be a bit more relaxed about things?’
‘Oh no.’ She shook her head determinedly. ‘You’ll get round me if we do that. I know you. I know how sneaky and deceitful you can be, remember?’
Shame washed over him. ‘I’m not that person any more,’ he said quietly. ‘That wasn’t me.’
‘You think that by changing your name everything’s forgiven?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You really think that Mac isn’t responsible for what Ian did?’
‘Far from it,’ he said. ‘I know perfectly well what I’m responsible for. I hold my hands up to it all. Everything. But bloody hell, Stell, don’t you think I’ve paid the price for it?’
‘You weren’t the only one who paid the price,’ she said bitterly. ‘Lynne and I were best friends. I haven’t seen her in years, thanks to you.’
Hardly best friends. Yes, they’d got on well, but they’d seen each other maybe two, three times a year. He thought Stella was exaggerating a bit.
‘Sorry,’ he said simply.
‘Sorry? You have no idea, do you? If it hadn’t been for you, Gavin and I—’ she broke off, shaking her head, and drained her glass again.
He watched, rather worried, as she poured herself another one. ‘Steady on,’ he told her. ‘It’s not a race. What did you mean, if it hadn’t been for me?’
‘You haven’t got a clue, have you?’ she said, shaking her head. She stared into her glass, looking thoroughly miserable. ‘Bloody hell it’s hot in here.’
‘You’ve still got your coat, hat and scarf on,’ he reminded her. Not to mention her gloves.
‘Oh. Right.’ She unwound her scarf and threw it on the table along with her gloves and hat, then stood to unbutton her coat.
Mac took it from her and hung it in the hallway.
‘So, what did you mean?’ he repeated, as he returned to find her staring into her glass again, her cheeks flushed.
‘Me and Gavin,’ she said sadly. ‘We had plans. And you ruined them.’
‘What sort of plans?’
She ran a finger around the rim of her glass, saying nothing. Mac watched her for a moment then urged, ‘Stella? What sort of plans?’
Stella blinked, as if she’d forgotten he was there. ‘Oxfordshire,’ she said simply.
‘Oxfordshire?’
She sipped her wine, nodding furiously. ‘Yep. We’d decided.
We were going to sell up Tide’s Reach and the house and buy a small hotel in Oxfordshire.
I wanted to be nearer to you, and Oxfordshire was so beautiful.
Gavin liked it, too. Thought it was classy.
He said the hotel had real potential. Ned and Crystal loved Wyatt and Sarah, and it was all going to be perfect.
‘And then it all came crashing down, and after you left Lynne got really funny with us, like she didn’t want to be around us, and Gavin said it wasn’t worth bothering with the hotel and we should focus on businesses round here because it was cheaper, and he ended up buying the site at Puffin Point instead, and spending more and more time up there, and we drifted apart and…
’ She gave a noisy sob. ‘And then he asked me for a divorce.’
‘Stella,’ Mac said gently, ‘Lynne and I broke up fifteen years ago. You and Gavin only divorced three years ago. It can’t have been down to my marriage ending.’
‘It was the catalyst!’ she said, glaring at him. ‘From then on, everything started to go wrong.’ She glanced around the kitchen. ‘Where is it?’
‘Where’s what?’ he asked, baffled.
‘That bloody cake! I’m starving.’
‘But you’ve given it up for Lent,’ he reminded her.
‘Sod that. Extenuating circumstances.’
He could see himself getting the blame for this as well, tomorrow, but he collected the cake, two forks, two plates and a knife and carried them over.
‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked, knife hovering over the cake.
‘Big piece,’ she said firmly. ‘Enormous.’
As he cut her a slice she poured her fourth glass of wine.
‘Gavin,’ she said, ‘was never the same with me after you left. I don’t know why. I tried, I really tried to make it work, Ian.’
‘Mac,’ he said quietly.
‘Whatever. I really tried. He just drifted away from me, and no matter what I did I couldn’t get him back.’ She dug her fork into the cake, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘He left me. Everyone leaves me in the end. Gavin. Mum. You. Even my own children.’
‘Your children?’
‘Well, Ned’s gone, hasn’t he? Went off to university and never came back, just like his bloody Uncle Ian. Business and Tourism Management. Pah! And now he’s running a hotel in Wales! I ask you, bloody Wales!’
‘But Crystal’s around?’
‘Hardly ever here,’ she said with a sniff. ‘More interested in Puffin bloody Point. What’s so special about that place anyway?’
‘Well…’ Mac hadn’t been up to that area for years, but he remembered that Puffin Point was a pretty little village with two lighthouses and stunning beaches. Not to mention the tall chalk cliffs that were home to thousands of seabirds – including the famous puffins. He could see the attraction.
‘There’s nobody left,’ Stella said, wiping another tear away. ‘Nobody.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, genuinely feeling her pain.
He knew how it felt to believe that not a single person in the world would care if you lived or died.
It was the loneliest place on earth. ‘But it’s not true, Stell.
Your kids love you. They’re just busy doing what you equipped them to do by being such a good mum.
Living their lives. Making their way in the world.
And Gavin – he still cares about you, I’m sure.
You had two children together. Built up two businesses.
And as for Mum… Aw, she couldn’t help leaving you.
You know you meant the world to her. You were here for her, and that will have meant everything to her. ’
‘Not that much,’ Stella said, before downing the rest of her wine. ‘She took all the photos of me down after me and Gavin split up, but she had loads of you scattered around the place. I couldn’t move without coming face to face with your smug grin.’
‘I’m sure she didn’t mean—’
‘She said it was because they were my wedding photos, and she didn’t want to hurt me. She could have dug out other pictures, surely? But no. Not worth the bother, was I?’
She ran a hand across her forehead. ‘And this place! She knew how much I needed it, and she left it all to you just to spite me. I wanted it for Gavin, you see. It’s not for me, honestly it’s not.
But Gavin needs the land and if you’d just let him have that he might come back to me.
It would give him something to do here, you see.
Bring him back from Puffin Point. You do understand that, don’t you? ’
Mac pushed his cake away, untouched. ‘I can’t give Gavin the land. You know that.’
‘He’d give you a fair price!’ Stella grabbed his arm, a pleading look in her eyes. ‘Think about it, Mac. Think what you could do with all that money!’
He stared at her, feeling icy cold in the pit of his stomach. ‘Are you serious?’ So now she called him Mac, when it suited her. ‘Wow. You really are desperate.’
‘Yes, I am!’ she cried. ‘I love my husband. Can’t you understand that? No, I don’t suppose you can. The way you treated your family you clearly don’t understand anything about love.’
‘You know nothing about it,’ he said, trying to remain calm. ‘You only think you do.’
‘I know you drove my best friend into the arms of another man,’ she said angrily. ‘I know your own kids have nothing to do with you. I know—’
‘I think you should go.’ He picked up his mobile phone. ‘I’ll call you a taxi.’
Stella picked up her plate and hurled it across the kitchen.
Mac stared at the smashed china and the mess of chocolate sponge on the floor, then at her.
There was a silence, only broken when he realised Carne was rushing over to investigate the situation and that he might try to eat the remains of the cake.
He grabbed the little dog and tucked Mrs Beddows under his other arm, shutting them in the living room. Then he took out a dustpan and brush and began to sweep up the mess.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, sounding a bit shell-shocked.
‘Maybe you should go home,’ he told her. ‘Things have got a bit fraught, and we’re not going to get anywhere today. Maybe another time, when you’re more clear-headed?’
She scowled. ‘I’m perfectly clear-headed. Are you going to sell this place or not? To me or to Gavin, I don’t care which.’
He stood up, the dustpan in his hand, and met her challenging look with one of defiance.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Stella, but I’m not. Not ever.’
‘Right.’ She got to her feet and dragged on her hat, scarf and gloves. ‘Then I’ll see you in court.’
Mac laughed. ‘Court? You’ve got no chance of winning a court case.’
‘Watch me. I’ll hire the best solicitor I can afford, and I can afford a very good one.’
‘You’d just be throwing your money away,’ he told her.
‘Well,’ she snapped, her eyes flashing, ‘you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’
He let her go. She collected her coat from the hallway and went outside, slamming the door after her. No doubt she’d go to the pub and call a taxi from there. He just hoped she wouldn’t have anything else to drink. He’d call Sam in half an hour and check that she’d got into a cab safely.
What a day! So much for putting things right between himself and Stella. He couldn’t help thinking that, this time, maybe he’d lost his sister for good.