Chapter 41

It wasn't until Tuesday evening on her return from work that Stella noticed the hand carved stone bowl had gone from the coffee table, the empty space it had once occupied glaring back at her. She'd stopped in her tracks, her gaze sweeping the room. Her first thought had been that Andrea had moved it when she'd been cleaning that morning – owing to the Bank Holiday, Stella's cleaning day had been pushed back to Tuesday. It was only when she'd been unable to find any trace of the bowl – or broken bits of it in the bin, if that had been its fate – that it suddenly hit her, her mind rushing back to the confrontation with Johan de Groote the previous day, the flash of a dark stone-like object that had caught her eye as he'd rummaged through his holdall. It had been her bowl! The memory of him declaring it to be expensive followed next. ‘The cheek!' She planted her hands onto her hips. He must have pilfered it when she'd gone to get his coat from the hallway, but how the heck had she not noticed? It's not as if it was a tiny thing. Then again, she recalled the shirt he'd been wearing had been loose-fitting and roomy, if he was skilled at stealing things, it would have been no problem for him to smuggle it out.

In the conversation she'd had with her mum when she'd called in on her way back from chambers, Stella had learnt that not only had the purse been emptied of cash, but the bank had been in touch the previous day. Before Alice had had the opportunity of cancelling her bank cards, a rash of unusual activity had been detected, prompting the bank to contact her. One of her cards had been swallowed at the local ATM as a result of numerous incorrect attempts at guessing the PIN. The others, including the ones relating to her business, had all been frozen. And now her mother was having to contend with the hassle of them being cancelled and having to await replacements.

Stella's already low opinion of her father plummeted lower still.

‘At least he's gone, lovey,' her mum had said pragmatically. ‘He could've caused a load more grief if what Pim told you is anything to go by.'

Stella hadn't been able to argue with that.

She'd spoken to Pim on the phone before she'd left chambers for Micklewick Bay, taking advantage of the quiet hours before The Cellar opened. He'd gone on to elaborate about the details of the text he'd sent the previous day. It turned out that Johan had stolen some jewellery from his mother. It had belonged to her grandmother and been passed down to her on her own mother's death, so the pieces weren't just valuable, they had enormous sentimental value too. ‘He must've been snooping in her room to have found them,' Pim had said. ‘My mother's devastated but she's told the police so I expect they'll be waiting for him when he lands back in The Netherlands.'

He'd also told her that his mother had been contacted by another woman, asking if she knew of Johan de Groote's whereabouts. Apparently, he'd disappeared with her purse and small painting that was worth a considerable amount.

‘It would seem he has quite a lot of women chasing him,' Pim had said.

‘But for all the wrong reasons,' Stella had added.

Ending the call, she'd sat in quiet contemplation, the letter she'd found in the back of the photo in her mother's bedroom finding its way into her mind. It served no purpose now, and in retrospect, Stella could see how difficult it must have been for her mother to write it. Hiding it away in the back of a photograph was less easy to get her head around; her mum clearly hadn't wanted it to be found just yet. In fact, Stella hadn't worked out quite when her mum had wanted her to find it.

Tears crowded her eyes as she recalled the words.

14th December 2018

My darling Stella,

I want to start by telling you I love you more than anything in this world and whatever I've done, I've always had your best interests at heart, and have always wanted to protect you from any unnecessary hurt.

I know you've always struggled to understand why I've never spoken of your father, or given you any details of him, but my reason was because I lived in fear of him hurting you the way he hurt me when he walked away that day and never returned. I never wanted you to experience that awful pain and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

As you grew older, I battled with myself, wondering if I should tell you his name so you could find him, but the thought of the disruption I know him to be capable of continued to prevent me from doing so.

But now is the time for me to share the information you've been so desperate to have. You can decide for yourself if you want to act on it, all I ask is that you tread carefully and be the wise and sensible young woman I know you to be. If you have any doubts, however small, don't ignore them.

Your father's name is Johan de Groote and he was from a place called Harderwijk in Holland. I'm afraid that's all I know of him but if you're keen to find him, I'm sure the internet will lead you to him.

Be happy my beautiful girl. You've filled my world with joy and more happiness than I ever thought possible.

Mum xxxx

There was no need for the note now, and there was definitely no need for Stella to bring it to her mum's attention. In fact, much as she'd prefer to confess about snooping around her bedroom, Stella thought doing so would risk reopening the rift that had gaped when she'd last enquired about her father. It wasn't worth that; she'd just have to suffer it on her conscience as best she could.

If one good thing came out of the whole sorry situation, it was the realisation that her mum had been proved right about her father.