Chapter 33

The first thing that filled Stella's mind when she woke was Alex. Her chest tightened and she clamped her hand over her forehead as she recalled the previous night's conversation with Brooke. What a hot-headed fool you've been, Hutton! She reached for her alarm clock to see it was almost seven thirty; late for her. Throwing the duvet back, she leapt out of bed determined to get the day started; the sooner she got to speak to Alex the better. She'd spent hours lying awake last night, torturing herself, trying to think of what to say to him, how she could apologise and let him know she meant it, that she regretted what she'd said. Much as she hoped he'd accept her apology, part of her couldn't blame him if he didn't; she'd hurled a pretty unpleasant accusation at him. The memory made her wince.

What time would be deemed acceptable to knock on someone's door on a Sunday morning? she wondered, as she paced back and forth in her living room, nursing a mug of coffee. Was eight o'clock too early? Surely he'd be up with Fred. Or maybe she should go for a run and speak to him when she returned? She talked herself out of that option, not wanting to risk him heading out while she wasn't around to hear him leave. No, she'd forgo her Sunday morning run and wait until it got to nine then she'd head straight over to his apartment.

She glanced over at the clock, willing the hands to move faster.

Despite showering, washing her hair and changing into some cashmere loungewear, time appeared to be dragging its heels. And though she'd tried her best to summon her courtroom courage, nothing seemed to stop her heart from stampeding or the nerves jittering in her stomach. It mattered more than anything that Alex listened to her, that he'd give her the chance to apologise.

Johan de Groote had barely crossed her mind since the conversation with Brooke. Pftt. That's no bad thing. Her annoyance at his indifferent, arrogant attitude had increased, though she wasn't certain if it was being nudged on by her situation with Alex, making her channel her unsettled emotions in her errant father's direction.

The minute it got to nine a.m., Stella found herself standing in front of the door to Alex's apartment. She'd already knocked twice, getting no response. Impatience rippling through her, she listened carefully, hoping to hear to signs of activity. When she heard nothing, she knocked again. Still, the door remained unanswered.

Back in her living room Stella started pacing the floor once more, glancing down at her phone, toying with the idea of sending Alex a text, asking if they could talk. The thought that he might ignore her request prevented her from taking the plunge. She'd prefer to speak face to face anyway, that way she could be sure he fully understood just how sorry she was, that she wasn't using hollow words.

While she'd been waiting, a text had come through from Pim, asking if they could meet at ten thirty and maybe go for a walk. She'd replied, confirming she'd be at The Cellar for then. Much as she was desperate to speak to Alex, she very much wanted to talk to Pim too, and there was no way she'd countenance cancelling meeting up with him.

By the time it had got to ten o'clock, Stella had knocked at Alex's door a further two times, each time it had remained unanswered, silence lingering behind it. Gripped by frustration and anxiety in equal measure, she'd been unable to apply herself to anything and instead, had spent the time busying herself with small, undemanding tasks while listening out for any signs of movement on the landing, signalling Alex's return.

Giving one last knock as she headed out to meet Pim, Stella was to be disappointed yet again. He and Fred clearly weren't at home; surely the Labrador would have barked if they'd been in. She was just as well pleased since she'd have to rush off to meet Pim which wouldn't create the best impression of someone who was keen to apologise.

Dressed in a blue and white striped pullover, a pair of ankle-grazer jeans, and canvas trainers on her feet, Stella fell into step alongside Pim, listening as he started to tell her of his relationship with their father. It transpired that they hadn't been in contact for long at all, with Johan turning up at his mother's house in The Netherlands out of the blue one afternoon.

‘You can imagine my surprise when I received a call from my mother saying he'd rocked up and was keen to meet me.'

‘I can, but then again, he's got some brass neck,' Stella said, her words laced with disapproval.

‘That's what Bill and I thought, but my mother seemed uncharacteristically eager for me to head over there and speak to him. She told me later she was keen for me to see what sort of man he was while I had the chance, said she didn't know how long before he'd disappear, that it might be my only chance to meet him.'

‘He's certainly got quite the reputation.' Stella found the contrast between Pim's mother and her own interesting. Whereas his mum had been keen for him to meet Johan to prove how much of a disappointment he was; it was the complete opposite to her mother who wanted to shield her from him.

‘You're so right. As you know, he left not long after I was born and as far as I was aware, he'd never returned.' They paused at the end of the road, waiting for a car to pass before they crossed to the other side. ‘We'd never even spoken on the phone; he'd never kept in contact at all.'

Sounds familiar.‘So I assume you went over to Holland to meet him? How did that go?' She glanced up at him. The thought that he had a kind face crossed her mind.

‘I talked it over with Bill and we both agreed that it would be good if I met him at my mother's house rather than have him coming here. So I booked a flight and headed over there. I was absolutely bricking it.' He laughed. ‘The prospect of meeting a total stranger who was actually my father, the man whose DNA I share, felt too bizarre to comprehend. It really took some getting my head around.' He turned, looking down at her. ‘But I don't have to tell you how that feels, do I, sis?' he said softly.

‘No, you don't.' She smiled; that he'd called her sis warmed her heart.

In what felt like a matter of moments, they were walking along the beach, seagulls wheeling overhead, the rush of the waves in the background. A brisk, salt-laden breeze was blowing in off the sea, making Stella glad she'd worn a jumper. A stray lock of hair had escaped her plait and she tucked it behind her ear, watching as a couple of wetsuit clad surfers ran in front of them, surfboards tucked under their arms, their feet slapping over the wet sand. Despite the cooler temperature, the beach was already beginning to fill with families and walkers.

‘So how did it go, meeting Johan de Groote for the first time?' she asked.

‘Well,' Pim stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave a wry laugh, ‘put it this way, it didn't take long before he came crashing down from the pedestal I'd sat him on ever since I was a small boy.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that, Pim.' Stella glanced up at him, giving a sympathetic smile.

‘Oh, don't be. It's not as if I'm a child – I'd have been devastated if it had happened then. Though I didn't think so when I was growing up, it was a good thing he'd stayed away; forgot he had a son. That way he didn't have the chance to cause unhappiness and disruption to mine and my mother's lives.'

‘I can understand that, it's the reason my mum didn't want me to have anything to do with him.'

‘Your mum is very wise.' Pim nodded. ‘I'd tried on numerous occasions to find him when I got older, but with no luck; it was as if he'd just vanished into thin air, didn't want to be found.'

‘I got that impression too, in my brief searches for him.'

‘When I met him at my mother's house, I found myself actually feeling more shocked by his self-absorbed attitude than hurt by his lack of interest in me. All he talked about for the three hours of his visit was himself. He wasn't interested in how my mum had been or what I'd been doing with my life, though his ears pricked up when he heard I owned a bar here.'

Stella shook her head sadly.

‘Would you believe he even asked my mum if he could stay with her for a while until he got himself "sorted out"? Had the nerve to ask for money too.'

‘You're kidding me? And the last time your mum had seen him was not long after you were born?' Their so-called father certainly wasn't looking any better in her eyes.

‘That's right. She hadn't seen or heard anything for almost thirty years.' He paused, gazing out to sea, pushing his thick, blond hair off his face. ‘It didn't take me long to reach the conclusion that he was the most selfish person I'd ever met. And I know it might sound harsh, but I didn't care if I never saw him again. He didn't fill my heart with love the way I thought he would. There was no rush of the father/son bond that I'd expected to feel. Just a great big disappointment instead.' He turned to face Stella. ‘Does that make me sound bad? Unkind? Make me sound like him?' he asked softly, his face wreathed in concern.

‘It doesn't make you sound bad or unkind at all.' Stella rested her hand on the top of his arm, the sadness in his eyes triggering a rush of pity. ‘And it most definitely doesn't make you sound like him.'

‘Thank you.' His expression brightened. ‘That's what Bill says, but I wondered if he was just being nice.'

‘He wasn't just being nice, Pim, you're a genuinely good guy, everyone says so.' She smiled up at his gentle face. ‘And what you just told me is exactly how I feel about Johan de Groote, there's no getting away from the fact that he's an inherently self-absorbed man with a shocking lack of conscience. In fact, I saw him in the Jolly on Friday night.'

‘You did? Did he join you and the other girls? Please tell me he wasn't holding court and spoiling your evening, boasting about himself.'

Stella gave a scornful laugh. ‘Quite the opposite; he'd have got short shrift from the lasses if he tried, especially Jasmine.'

Pim chuckled. ‘Ah, yes, that I can believe.' He caught her eye, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. ‘Would've been fun to see. For one so small, she's pretty fierce.' They both laughed at that.

‘And loyal,' Stella added. ‘They all are, we all look out for each other.'

‘I know, Bill and I think that's so cool.'

They resumed walking in the direction of the pier as Stella recounted what had happened on Friday evening, Pim shaking his head in disbelief.

‘I expect he'll be looking for somewhere else to stay once his pal Guy gets sick of him. I should imagine he was hoping to charm one of the young women he was talking to at the Jolly,' he said.

‘Oh, from what I saw, he was definitely pulling out all the stops to get them wrapped around his little finger, seemed to be working too.'

They watched as two dogs of indeterminate breed raced by them, chasing a ball their owner had thrown, kicking up lumps of sand in their wake, before plunging into the sea after it.

‘I guess he's had years of practise to hone his charm,' said Pim.

‘Hmm. If that's what you can call it. I rather think it's more like manipulation.'

As they made their way along the beach, Pim told her how on his return from Holland, Johan had been in touch, asking if he could stay with him and Bill for a while, telling him it would give them a chance to get to know one another, to build a bond. In the next breath, he'd asked if Pim could transfer him some money.

Stella's face was burning with anger. The man really had no shame or self-respect. ‘I know it's none of my business, but please tell me you told him what he could do with his request.'

Pim chuckled. ‘Tempted as I was to put it in blunt terms, I simply said I didn't think it was a good idea. It didn't go down well but, hey,' he shrugged, ‘I don't owe him anything.'

‘You certainly don't! The man's no more than a stranger.'

‘The next thing I know, he rocks up in the bar telling me he's staying at his friend's place for a few days, orders a load of beers and doesn't put his hand in his pocket once, not that I would've asked him to, but the fact that he just presumed they'd be on the house and doesn't offer a word of thanks, well…'

‘Why doesn't that surprise me? I'm getting the impression he's a seasoned freeloader.' Stella shook her head. ‘And this mate he's referring to is Guy, right?'

‘Yep, apparently they know each other from way back – he did say how, but he told me in such a vague, convoluted way I couldn't make sense of it. Top and bottom of it is that Guy's family used to live here in Micklewick Bay years ago and Johan used to visit them. This Guy has recently bought a holiday cottage over in Old Micklewick and is here for a couple of weeks, so Johan is staying with him.'

Stella absorbed this new information. So that was why her mother had headed to Micklewick Bay just after Stella was born. She must have still held a torch for Johan de Groote, must have hoped there'd be a chance she'd bump into him when he visited Guy. Stella couldn't help but think things wouldn't have turned out quite so well for her mother if she had. Keeping this thought to herself, she turned to look up at Pim. ‘I wouldn't be surprised if he hopes Guy will let him stay on for a bit longer after he's gone.'

Pim nodded. ‘That thought had crossed my mind too, but then I wondered if Guy was wise to him; they've known each other for a long time.'

‘I dare say we'll find out soon enough.' A feeling of doom sat heavy in the pit of Stella's stomach. For all he seemed keen to create the impression he was laid-back and happy-go-lucky, something told her Johan de Groote's visit was going to cause ructions.