Chapter 24
Stella arrived back at the table, a sea of worried faces looking at her. She squeezed back in to where she’d been sitting earlier, reaching for her glass of wine and taking a glug.
‘Is everything okay, Stella?’ Alex asked, his eyes soft with concern.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said, releasing a long breath.
‘What’s happened, flower,’ asked Maggie.
‘If it’s that arty-farty-looking bloke that’s upset you I’ll go and kick his backside,’ said Jasmine, her green eyes flashing and her cheeks flushing as they did when something had angered her. ‘He certainly seemed to put the wind up your mum.’
‘I got a very strange vibe from him, Stells, and from the brief glimpse I got of his aura, it left me feeling a bit concerned.’
That Lark rarely ever said anything negative about anyone meant her comment struck a chord with Stella.
‘Is everything all right?’ her friend asked softly.
‘I think so, and you’re not the only one who got a strange vibe from him. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourselves for now,’ she said lowering her voice, ‘but that “arty-farty-looking bloke” – I can’t believe I’m about to say this – turns out he’s actually my father.’ She figured there was no point hiding it from her friends.
An almost deafening silence followed, her friends looking back at her, unmistakable shock on their faces. Jasmine’s mouth was hanging open while Florrie had clamped her hand over hers. Alex wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and rubbing her arm. She leant into him, his strong reassurance soothing.
Lark was the first to speak. ‘Do you think his appearance is linked to your mum rushing out the way she did?’
She nodded. ‘I think it has everything to do with why she rushed out.’
‘Oh, Stells.’ Florrie reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. ‘It must be a huge shock for you, him turning up out of the blue like this.’
‘You could say.’ Stella glanced around at them all, feeling numb. ‘It’s going to take some sinking in.’ She held back from mentioning Pim, unsure if he wanted to broadcast the news just yet, if at all.
Jean Davenport, sitting opposite, said, ‘I’m sure it’ll all come right, lovey. Look how everything turned out for Jack and me.’ She smiled kindly.
Jack, who was sitting beside his mother, nodded. ‘Aye, I have to agree,’ he said in his gravelly North Yorkshire accent. ‘It was a heck of a shock for me to find my birth mother and hear her story after all these years, but look at us now.’ He put his arm around Jean and hugged her, indisputable affection in both their eyes. ‘Neither of us could be happier with how things turned out.’
Jack Davenport had only learnt he was adopted after his adoptive parents had died. What he’d found out had led him to Micklewick Bay where, quite by chance, he discovered the identity of his birth mother. As an unmarried young woman, Jean had found herself pregnant at a time when it was viewed with much disapproval, not least by her parents. With her boyfriend, who was the father of her unborn child, running off with her so-called best friend, Jean had found herself with no alternative but to give up her baby. It was something she’d done secretly, and with the help of Ed’s grandparents. It had given her great comfort to know her little boy had gone to a couple who would love him as their own. And she’d always hoped, one day, he’d come looking for her.
‘But you had your reasons to give up your baby, Jean. My so-called father turned his back on me and my mum, not caring what happened to us, you made sure Jack went to a family who would love him.’
‘I can understand why you feel that way right now. You’ve had a shock, but things will settle down,’ Jean said kindly.
‘I wonder why he’s turned up now, after all these years?’ Jasmine voiced exactly what had started running through Stella’s mind.
‘He mentioned something about his health not being great, and that he was dealing with a lot of stuff.’ Stella nibbled on the corner of her mouth.
‘And you think that might be why he’s landed here in Micklewick Bay?’ asked Maggie.
‘I don’t know.’ Stella’s heart sank at the thought. After being so desperate to find him, she suddenly found herself wishing he wasn’t here.
‘Just be careful, flower,’ Lark said. The unfamiliar warning note in her words sending anxiety shooting up Stella’s spine.
‘Don’t worry, I will.’ She gave Lark a shaky smile.
‘And don’t forget, we’re here for you whenever you need us,’ said Florrie, the others agreeing wholeheartedly.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Alex asked when they arrived outside her apartment door.
Stella mustered up a smile and nodded. ‘Yeah, I just need to process it all.’
‘Well, you know where I am if you need to talk.’ He rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but please feel free to call, text or knock on my door any time, I really won’t mind.’
‘Thanks.’ She looked up into his eyes, the kindness she saw there making her throat tighten.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and she let herself melt into his embrace, blinking back the tears that threatened. She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent, savouring the feeling of reassurance that suddenly overwhelmed her. No man had triggered such a feeling in her. Uncharacteristically, she found herself glad of it.
With her emotions under control, she lifted her head, gently – and reluctantly – releasing herself from his embrace. ‘Thanks for being so understanding.’
‘Hey, it’s nothing.’ He smiled before pressing his lips to hers and kissing her softly. ‘Try to get a good night’s sleep if you can – easier said than done, I’m sure, but everything will look better in the morning. And if you fancy joining me for breakfast, just holler.’
‘Thanks.’
Inside her apartment, Stella threw her keys into the bowl on the console table by the door, then scrunched up her eyes and scrubbed her face with her hands. ‘What a mess!’ Tonight hadn’t turned out to be anything like she’d expected. She’d thought the evening would be spent with her being on the receiving end of a slew of loaded looks and teasing from her friends on account of her taking Alex along. Part of her had been dreading that, but it would have been far more preferable than what had actually happened.
She padded to her bathroom and turned on the taps of her large free-standing bath, adding a generous dash of soothing bubble bath. She felt the urge to soak away the negative emotions that currently gripped her body.
With her hair piled on top of her head, Stella stepped into the scented bubbles, sliding down into the soothing warmth and closing her eyes. She needed to work out what she was going to say to her mother but at this very moment, she just wanted to let the warmth envelop her and relax her mind. She very rarely acted in haste, and this situation was no exception. She needed to think it through from every angle, consider the best way to break it to her mum that she knew the identity of her father, and when to do it. She hadn’t decided what to do about the letter, but with Johan de Groote turning up, it had somehow lost its urgency.
Wrapped in a snuggly dressing gown and armed with a mug of hot chocolate, Stella grabbed her phone from the kitchen worktop and made herself comfortable on the sofa. Though it was just gone eleven o’clock, she felt compelled to call her mother. In fact, she’d half-expected to receive a call from her mum, explaining her hasty exit, but there’d been nothing. There had, however, been a slew of messages from her friends, offering words of support and telling her not to worry. Reading them had made her smile, they really were the best bunch. Selecting her mum’s mobile number Stella pressed the call icon, wondering what Rhys knew of the situation. After all, rushing off the way she had was going to take some explaining. When the call went straight to voicemail, Stella called her mum’s landline, disappointed to find the answerphone kicked in straight away. Her mother, who rarely went to bed before midnight, clearly didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight.
Heaving a sigh, Stella threw her phone down on the sofa and flicked the television on. She’d watch something mindless while she drank her hot chocolate; anything to take her mind off the thoughts that were crowding her mind.