Chapter 22

Wednesday dawned with rain beating against the windows, the blue skies of the last week replaced with sullen grey clouds. Stella peered through the glass of the balcony door. The sea was dark and brooding, waves hurling themselves at the shore culminating in a mass of spray and foam. It was the perfect sort of day to stay indoors and attend to her paperwork. She also intended to delve a little further into tracing her father. The internet was bound to churn up something about him if she looked hard enough.

Her mind went to her mum and the realisation that she'd be seeing her tonight at the auction at The Cellar. Pim too. She closed her eyes, marshalling her thoughts. It was going to be difficult to resist the temptation to say something to either of them. She'd gone from her family consisting of no more than her and her mum, to suddenly knowing the name of her father and potentially being related to Pim. That took some sinking in.

She was distracted by her mobile phone ringing and snatched it up from the kitchen worktop. ‘Hi, Allegra.'

‘Hello, Miss Hutton, I just wanted to let you know the CPS have been on and booked you as junior in a murder brief. It's the case that's been making the headlines here recently, the one with the man who'd been on the run. The silk for the prosecution is Aiken Ferdinand. Thought you'd like to know.'

A thrill ran through her. It was always a boost to be briefed in such a high-profile case. ‘Thanks, Allegra, I appreciate that. Do you know when I should be getting the brief?'

‘I'm afraid I'm not sure of that yet, but rest assured, I'll let you know as soon as I do,' said Allegra. ‘And, just to keep you up-to-speed with your situation, I've been informed the police have asked for the CCTV footage of your apartment and they've been questioning Gavin Dixon. He of course denies all knowledge, but he would say that. Interestingly, he was arrested for assault yesterday and has been in police custody ever since, so if it was him who sent the note, then you can breathe a sigh of relief. He's locked up and won't be making any trouble for anyone for the foreseeable future.'

Stella's heart sank at hearing this. Much as she was glad that Dixon had been locked up, if he'd been in custody for the last couple of days, then it begged the question, who had been tailgating her and who had been parked across the road from her apartment in the early hours of this morning? The more she'd thought about that, the more she'd come to the conclusion she was the reason they'd been there. Had Dixon got one of his heavies to bother her?

Not wanting to throw cold water over her clerk's news, she said, ‘Thanks, Allegra, that's good to know.'

Deciding to put the Dixon family out of her mind, Stella grabbed the list she'd made and left the apartment. She was going to head to the supermarket with the intention of gathering up some more essentials for her apartment-warming party on Saturday. She also wanted to place an order at the local deli for a selection of their locally renowned dips, cooked meats and artisanal breads.

Arriving back at Fitzgilbert's Landing, glad that it had stopped raining so hard, Stella spotted a young woman in a green raincoat. She had deep copper hair that was tied back in a high ponytail, and was looking flustered as she struggled with an armful of boxes, attempting to press the buttons of the lift.

‘Here, let me give you a hand.' Stella rushed forward and pressed the "up" button, noting several more boxes stacked on the floor beside the young woman.

‘Oh thank you. I'm struggling to see anything from behind these.' She gave a good-humoured laugh, her smile friendly, her face pink with exertion and speckled with raindrops.

‘Tell you what, I'm guessing these other boxes are yours, so why don't I grab them and travel in the lift with you? Save you having to come back for them.'

‘Are you sure it's not too much bother?' The young woman asked, her eyes going to the bulging tote bag filled with shopping hanging from Stella's shoulder.

‘Honestly, I'm happy to help.' She smiled at the young woman before squatting down and gathering up the boxes.

Moments later, the lift pinged open.

‘After you,' said Stella.

‘Thank you so much.' The young woman looked inexorably relieved at Stella's help. ‘I've lost count of how many times I've been up and down in this lift today.' She chuckled.

‘I feel your pain. I was in your very shoes last week.' Stella smiled. ‘What floor number is it?' she asked when they'd both stepped inside.

‘Three, please. I know I should probably have taken the stairs, but I'm sure I would've fallen flat on my face and sent these boxes scattering everywhere.'

‘Which is never good.' Stella laughed. ‘And the reason the lift's definitely the most sensible option when you're lugging a load of boxes around. I'm Stella, by the way. I live on the second floor.'

‘Oh, right. Pleased to meet you, Stella. I'm Brooke.'

‘Pleased to meet you, Brooke.' Stella wondered if Brooke was moving in on her own but didn't like to ask for fear of sounding nosy.

Stopping at floor three, the lift doors slid open. Brooke stepped out onto the landing, the boxes tumbling from her arms. ‘Arghh! No! I could feel that happening but couldn't stop it in time.'

‘Are you okay?' Stella peered over her armful of boxes. ‘I hope there's nothing breakable in there.'

‘I dare say I'll find out soon enough.' Brooke pulled a regretful face. She hurried over to her apartment, unlocked the door then made her way back to Stella who was gathering the scattered boxes together. ‘Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it.'

‘No worries. I'm happy to help.' With the boxes scooped back up, Stella followed her neighbour into a mirror-image of the layout of her own apartment, which was directly below. The only apparent difference was the décor which was slightly more feminine with hints of dusky pink off-set with sage green. There were boxes piled-up everywhere. Where would you like these?' she asked.

‘Oh, just pop them over next to the others, thanks,' said Brooke, who was making her way to the kitchen. ‘Most of my stuff might still be stashed away in boxes but I made sure to unpack the most important items first.' She grinned waving a kettle at Stella. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea by way of saying thank you for helping me?'

‘I didn't do much, just carried a few things.' Stella chuckled. ‘And are you sure you've got time?' She glanced around at the chaos. She'd be itching to get things tidied away if her apartment looked like this. She'd kept her boxes piled neatly against one wall as she'd worked through unpacking them, and all were clearly labelled so she knew exactly what they contained and where the contents needed to go. She couldn't see any such labels on Brooke's boxes.

‘It's the least I can do.' Brooke said over her shoulder as she filled the kettle. ‘I'd be making one anyway, I'm gasping.'

‘In that case, I'd love one, thanks.'

As they sat and drank tea and tucked into a packet of chocolate-dipped oat biscuits Brooke had also kept handy, Stella learnt that her neighbour – who looked to be in her late twenties – had moved to Micklewick Bay from York. She'd bought the apartment with her fiancé, Marcus, who was currently away on a business trip in Frankfurt, sourcing goods for their online luxury homeware store, and wouldn't be back until Saturday morning.

Stella warmed to Brooke instantly. She was chatty and friendly and had already shown a glimpse of a wicked sense of humour which Stella found appealing.

‘Don't worry, as soon as Marcus gets here, he'll have everywhere ship-shape. He's as tidy as I'm messy,' Brooke said with a giggle. ‘He actually loves cleaning, can you imagine that? And I'm happy to leave him to it.' She grinned.

‘Don't blame you,' said Stella. ‘Actually, I'm having a bit of a housewarming get-together on Saturday night, just a few friends, but you're both welcome to join us if you'd like. My apartment's directly below you, so I'm easy to find.'

‘Sounds great! I'd love to. Thanks.' Brooke beamed, her dark-green eyes shining. ‘Will any of the other residents be there?'

Stella nodded. ‘Alex from the apartment opposite me will be there, but other than you and him, I haven't met anyone else here yet. I've heard the lift go a couple of times though.'

‘I suppose it's to be expected, us all moving in at staggered times; we'll all have different completion days.'

‘True.' Stella got to her feet. ‘Right, well I'd best be off. I've got a mountain of work that I was hoping to be much further through than I am by now. Good to meet you, Brooke. See you Saturday.'

‘See you Saturday, and thanks again for the help.'

At six thirty on the dot, Stella heard a knock at her apartment door. Her heart leapt at the prospect of seeing Alex again. She opened it, her stomach looping-the-loop as she saw him standing before her looking achingly handsome in a teal-coloured shirt and jeans. He really was easy on the eye, stubble grazing his chin affording him a rugged air.

‘Hi,' she said, not bothering to rein in the huge smile that was tugging at her mouth. His appearance had chased away the anxiety that had been building at the prospect of seeing her mum after what she'd learnt. And then there was Pim. Stella couldn't even begin to work out where he fitted into it all. But now, with Alex on her doorstep, a lightness washed over her.

‘Hi,' he said, leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, her hormones launching into a happy dance. ‘Ready to head to The Cellar?' he asked once he'd reluctantly, pulled away.

‘Mm-hm.' She nodded, feeling slightly dazed from the touch of his mouth on hers. She could have quite happily dragged him into her apartment and led him straight to the bedroom – despite her resolution to take things slowly. That was a much more appealing prospect than facing her mum.

‘I'm pleased to say it's stopped raining for now, so I suggest we make a dash for it, much as I could stand here kissing you for way longer.' He pressed his forehead against hers before giving her a last passion-filled kiss, leaving her feeling more light-headed than ever.

Out on the street, having gathered her wayward emotions together, Stella was relieved to find that Alex was right about the rain. The wind, however, was still hurling itself around, making the sea look decidedly choppy. It was such a difference to the warm and balmy days they'd been enjoying. Stella fastened her coat, glad that she'd had the foresight to tie her hair back into a low ponytail to keep it from ending up in a tangled mess.

Alex took her hand and they hurried along, taking the shortcut through the narrow streets to Endeavour Road where The Cellar was located rather than savouring the walk along the top prom, buffeted by the wind as they went. They spotted a woman battling against the elements with a large golf umbrella on the opposite side of the road. In the next moment a powerful gust blew the thing inside out and the woman let out a shriek. Stella stole a sideways look at Alex, and from the amused look in his eye she guessed he was struggling to keep his laughter in just as she was.

Stella let out a sigh of relief when they arrived at The Cellar, it was good to get out of the wind. Alex held the door open, the hostelry's familiar playlist of rock/folk fusion spilling out onto the pavement. Though they were early the place was already buzzing with eager customers. ‘There's Florrie and Ed.' Stella waved over to where they were sitting in a large semi-circular booth. Florrie's eyes lit up as she spotted her friend. She nudged Ed and the couple waved back, smiling broadly.

Alex ordered their drinks from a cheerful-looking young server with a neatly clipped beard. He was sporting The Cellar's uniform of fitted waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, black skinny jeans and a long apron bearing the bar's logo, tied at the waist.

Stella's gaze stole to Pim who was pulling a pint from the gleaming Micklewick Mischief beer pump. He was chatting away in his usual friendly manner. She wondered what he would think of the prospect of them being related. She looked more intently, trying to see any trace of family resemblance other than blond hair, blue eyes and, of course, the height. She noted his long, straight nose, just like hers – which she didn't get from her mum; hers was turned up at the tip. As if sensing her watching him, he turned and nodded, his smile widening. Stella started, feeling her cheeks flush, embarrassed at being caught staring. Recovering quickly, she nodded and returned his smile.

‘Right, here you go, one Pinot Grigio.' Alex handed her the glass while he reached for his pint of The Cellar's famous Micklewick Magic beer.

Arriving at their booth, Stella smiled and said, ‘Hi, folks, can I introduce my neighbour, Alex Bainbridge.' She turned to Alex. ‘This is Florrie and Ed, they have The Happy Hartes Bookshop in the square.'

‘Ah, yes, the shop with the amazing window displays.' Alex nodded.

‘Hi, Alex, good to meet you.' Florrie gave him a friendly smile. ‘And it's Ed who's responsible for the window displays. I just look on in awe.' She laughed.

‘Hi, Alex,' said Ed, smiling. ‘It's great that you could join us. And it's good to hear you like the window displays, they're fun to do.'

‘Ed's an artist,' said Stella, sliding along the leather seat beside Florrie, Alex following her.

Alex nodded. ‘Ah, that explains why the displays are so awesome.'

They'd just got settled when they were joined by Maggie and her husband Bear.

‘Ey up, folks,' Bear beamed at them. He was built like a brick proverbial, with an unruly head of hair and thick, bushy beard. He was often described as looking like a Viking though his muscular stature belied his gentle nature.

‘By 'eck it's bloomin' nippy out there. I don't know what's happened to the sun, but it can get its backside back in that sky.' Maggie giggled, unbuttoning her coat and revealing her growing baby bump.

‘Mags, Bear, this is Alex,' said Stella. ‘He's my neighbour.'

Smiling, Bear held out his hand. ‘Hi, Al–'

‘Flippin' 'eck, don't tell me I'm not the last one to arrive.' Jasmine's voice sliced through the introductions. ‘I don't think I've ever turned up anywhere before Lark.' She giggled. ‘Ooh, hello.' Her eyes widened when she spotted Alex. She clearly recognised him from Stella's brief encounter with him at the Jolly. She turned to her friend, giving a quick waggle of her eyebrows.

‘Jazz, this is Alex.' Stella gave her a warning look. ‘Alex, this is my friend, Jasmine.'

‘Hi, Jasmine, it's good to meet you.' Alex gave an amused smile. He was clearly picking up on the two friends' non-verbals.

‘It's fab to meet you too. Hope you're prepared for a night with us lot. It's not for the faint-hearted.' She grinned at him as she unfastened her coat. ‘Especially when we start grilling you.'

‘Oh, right.' Alex shot Stella a vaguely concerned look.

‘Take no notice, we're a very tame bunch,' said Maggie.

‘Don't say I didn't warn you,' said Stella.

‘Yeah, I'm just joshing.' Jasmine slid onto the bench beside Maggie. ‘Shuffle up, missus.'

Lark and her friend Nate arrived five minutes later, quickly followed by Jean Davenport and her son, local author and poet Jack Playforth.

Before they knew it, the bar was heaving, the music battling with the hum of chatter. As she was chatting to her friends, Stella noticed her mum and Rhys squeezing their way in the direction of the bar. Her mum looked over and waved, Rhys following suit. Stella mustered up her best smile, waving back as her stomach started rolling. She looked on as her mother spoke to Pim who was taking their order, checking to see if there was anything in her facial expression that revealed she knew his identity, but it was too difficult to tell from where she was sitting. Stella could count on one hand the times her mum had mentioned she'd been to The Cellar so doubted she'd know Pim and Bill particularly well.

She watched as they made their way over to the table where Florrie's parents were sitting with Jasmine's, the friends falling effortlessly into conversation. From the greeting, it struck Stella that the two other couples were familiar with Rhys, they'd clearly met him before. The thought that her mum was pretty good at keeping secrets crept into her mind, triggering a squeeze of annoyance in her stomach. Stay calm, Stella. Tonight's not the night for getting angry with your mum. Inhaling a deep breath, she fixed a smile to her face and turned back to her friends, launching into telling them about how she'd met another one of the residents at Fitzgilbert's Landing.

‘Right, ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please.'

Everyone turned to see Bill standing in front of the bar, microphone in hand, looking as neatly groomed as ever. ‘As you're all aware, the reason we're here tonight is to help raise funds so Chris and Hannah Readman can send their little girl Fleur for some pioneering, life-changing treatment over in the States. We've got some amazing lots – thank you to all who've donated so generously – so please, dig deep. And, without further ado, let's get started.'

A rousing cheer and round of applause followed, punctuated by the odd "whoop".

They were halfway through the auction, with bidding heating up on the latest lot before taking a break when the door opened, setting the bell above jangling. ‘I'll give twenty pounds more,' said a voice with a melodic accent. Stella's head shot round to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with floppy blond hair amble across the room. He wore an air of confidence and a self-assured smile. Her brows drew together as something made her instinctively turn to her mum.

She watched as her mother's expression morphed from happiness to utter horror. Alice clasped her hand to her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief. Moments later, she muttered something to Rhys, grabbed her coat and bag, and fled the bar, her face ashen. Rhys, looking bewildered, followed close behind as Florrie and Jasmine's parents watched, wearing expressions of confusion.

‘What the heck was all that about?' asked Florrie, who'd witnessed it too. ‘Do you think your mum's okay? Sorry, daft question, she's clearly not, but do you have any idea why she looked so upset?'

Stella couldn't answer, her brain struggling to compute what Florrie was saying to her. She glanced back at the tall, blond man who appeared oblivious to the reaction his arrival had generated in her mother. He reached the bar and struck up a conversation with Pim whose usually friendly expression had been replaced by an uncharacteristically stern look.

‘Everything okay, Stella?' she heard Alex say, the same question repeated by Florrie.

‘I just need to… Sorry, can I just squeeze out?' Stella asked, her heart thumping as her friends looked on. She was too preoccupied by what she'd just witnessed to formulate a coherent reply right now.

She weaved her way around the tables on autopilot, nausea churning in her stomach. Finally, Stella found herself standing by the tall stranger. She glanced at Pim, the serious look in his eyes suddenly fading as realisation dawned.

‘Oh, shit!' he said, pushing his fingers into his thick, blond hair. ‘I don't know how I didn't realise…'

‘Didn't realise what?' asked the stranger, turning to follow Pim's gaze.

‘Stella… Oh, jeez… Seeing you like this, side-by-side, it's so obvious.' Pim swallowed hard. ‘Stella, this is Johan de Groote. Johan, this is Stella, Stella Hutton.'

The stranger's smile faltered, his eyes roving her face. ‘Did you say Hutton?'

‘Yes, my mother's Alice Hutton. I believe you knew her once,' she said, a challenging glint in her eyes.