Chapter 6

‘You okay, Stells?' asked Florrie, her forehead creasing.

Stella swallowed and took a steadying breath, her pulse surging around her body. Pull yourself together, woman! What the heck's got into you? ‘Hmm, er, yeah. I'm fine.' She smiled brightly at her friend. ‘Just wondering when our fish and chips are coming.'

‘Aye, they've been a while.' Jasmine twisted round, a slow grin spreading across her face. ‘Fish and chips, eh?' She turned back. ‘I reckon our Stells' ovaries have just exploded – again – lasses. Take a gander at the hot looking bloke who's just wandered in.'

‘Which hot looking bloke?' Maggie peered over to the object of their interest, Florrie and Lark following her gaze. ‘Ahh, I see,' she said, giving Stella a knowing smile.

‘And just how many times can ovaries explode exactly?' asked Florrie.

‘Numerous times if our Stells is anything to go by; hers are always going bang. Whenever she claps eyes on a fella that takes her interest, that's it. Boom!' Jasmine grinned, turning to take another look. ‘Mind, I can see why; he's right up her street, tall, dark and delicious. That's the criteria, isn't it, Stells?'

Stella rolled her eyes, shaking her head good-naturedly.

‘Ah, and he's got a gorgeous Labrador with him,' said Lark, peering around Florrie. ‘If he's a dog-lover he must be nice.'

‘See, he's already got Lark's seal of approval, Stells.' Maggie gave her an exaggerated wink.

‘I reckon we need another bottle of wine.' Stella reached for the empty bottle in the ice-bucket and got to her feet. ‘Won't be a moment.' She flashed them a smile before striding in the direction of the bar in her usual self-assured manner, aware of her friends watching her closely.

Standing beside Mr Hot, the fresh scent of his cologne wafted under her nose. It was clean and mossy, setting Stella's senses on high alert. It didn't take long before he turned to face her, their eyes meeting, sending a pulse of attraction through her. His mouth turned up in a smile that made her heart rate take off at an alarming speed.

‘Hello there.'

‘Hi.' She returned his smile, taking in the blue of his eyes, how they crinkled at the corners, the dark stubble of his strong jaw. He stood a good few inches above her, making him at least six-foot-three, and his shoulders, which looked decidedly good in his blue shirt, seemed even broader close up. He really was just how Jasmine had described, tall, dark and delicious.

‘Seems we're destined to meet.' He gave a barely discernible hitch of his eyebrow, still holding her gaze. The Labrador looked up at her, its tail swishing back and forth.

‘You would think so, wouldn't you?' Aware of her heart beating rapidly, Stella drew in a slow, deep breath. She was attracted to him and was in no doubt he was attracted to her; she'd been in this situation many times before, but this felt different. She needed to get a grip on the unfamiliar emotions currently hurling themselves around inside her. ‘Are you new to town or just here for the day?'

‘I'm new; just moved in this morning. Thought I'd leave the unpacking, head out and get a feel for the place.' She noted his North Yorkshire accent had a polished edge to it.

‘Hmm. Good plan. And do you like what you've seen so far?' She wound a tendril of hair around her finger and tilted her head coquettishly.

His eyes fell to her full lips. ‘Mmm. Very much so,' he said, his voice taking on a husky tone. A frisson of attraction danced in the air between them. The Labrador sat down, he clearly thought they'd be there some time.

‘Who's next, please?' Mandy, the Jolly's landlady called, her cockney accent standing out amongst the local voices. ‘Who's next in the queue?' she asked again. But her words had fallen unheard by Stella and Mr Hot, each apparently as reluctant as the other to break eye contact.

Stella was utterly lost in the moment.

‘Oy, laddo, do you want to order a bloomin' drink or what?' The rough tones of Lobster Harry, who was standing behind Mr Hot, jarred them back to the present. ‘Some of us are gagging here, while you're too busy making eyes at her ladyship.'

Stella snapped her gaze away from Mr Hot, shifting them to the fisherman, whose familiar mariner's hat she'd spotted earlier, hanging from the nipple of the reclaimed figurehead at the other end of the bar. The thought that he must be sweltering in the navy-blue gansey he always wore crossed her mind. ‘Sorry, Harry, you're welcome to go before me if you're desperate.'

‘Aye, too right I'm bloomin' desperate, 'specially with this red-hot weather we're having.'

‘You might want to take that sweater off then, Harry, mate,' said Ando Taylor, looking down at his short, stocky friend. ‘That'd cool you down a bit.'

‘Don't be so daft, lad. I never take me gansey off! Our lass'd have me guts for garters. How else d'you think they'd be able to identify me if I had an accident somewhere out of town? Thought you knew this pattern's only worn by fishermen from Micklewick Bay! Soft lad!' Lobster Harry shot him a look of outrage.

‘But you're hardly going to get swept out to sea in here, are you?' said Ando, wearing a confused expression. ‘And I thought you said you'd never been out of Micklewick Bay other than in your boat.'

Lobster Harry gave him an unimpressed look. ‘That's beside the point. Anyroad, out me way, I've got a pint glass here, needs topping-up with some of that Micklewick Mischief; right good stuff it is.'

Stella and Mr Hot stood back, sharing an amused smile as Harry pushed his way to the front of the queue.

‘I'm Alex, by the way, Alex Bainbridge, and this young rascal is Fred,' Mr Hot said when things had quietened down.

‘Hi, Alex, hi, Fred.' Stella bent to ruffle the Labrador's soft ears. ‘You're cute, aren't you?'

‘I assume you're addressing Fred and not me?' Alex said teasingly when she stood upright.

‘You assumed right.' She couldn't help but laugh. ‘And I'm Stella.' She held out her hand. ‘Stella Hutton.'

‘Good to meet you, Stella Hutton.' He took her hand, his touch sending a bolt of electricity shooting up her arm.

Wow! What was that?Her eyes flickered and she looked at him, wondering if he'd felt it too. Had his smile faltered momentarily, or was it just her imagination? she wondered, as colour rose in her cheeks.

‘Good to meet you too,' she said when she'd gathered herself together. ‘So which part of town have you move?—'

‘Sorry I'm late, Al,' said an out-of-breath female voice beside them, cutting Stella off.

‘Oh!' She was startled to see a young woman with a dark ponytail and a pretty heart-shaped face link her arm through Alex's. She was gazing up at him, smiling broadly, affection in her eyes. Fred's tail-wagging went into overdrive. She was clearly a regular fixture in "Al's" life. Stella felt her anger spike. How could Mr Hot think it was acceptable to flirt so blatantly with her when he had a girlfriend? It was a perfect example of why she was right to keep men at arm's length. If there was one thing Stella really didn't like, it was cheating rats.

She was pulled out of the moment by Immy, one of the Jolly's servers, who leant into her, giving her arm a quick squeeze. ‘Just so you know, flower, your fish and chips are waiting.' Her cheeks were flushed from dashing in and out of the kitchen.

‘Oh, righto, Immy, thanks.'

‘No probs.' Immy flashed a grin before hurrying off.

Stella glanced up at Alex, pushing her mouth into a smile. ‘Right, well, it was nice to meet you but I'd best get back to my friends,' she said coolly. Giving him no time to reply, she turned on her heel and headed back to the table where she spotted her friends regarding her with interest.

‘How did it go?' asked Florrie, her eyes wide.

‘Who's that woman who just came in?' asked Maggie.

‘More importantly, where's the wine?' Jasmine pulled a "seriously?" face.

‘Oh, blast!' Stella bumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. ‘I forgot it. Sorry, lasses.'

‘No worries, we can ask Immy to fetch one when she brings the gravy and mushy peas.' Lark smiled at her. ‘She'll be happy to do that.'

‘Aye, good thinking.' Lark's suggestion seemed to appease Jasmine.

‘So, in answer to your questions,' Stella placed her napkin on her lap, ‘all was going swimmingly, and we were having a good old flirt, until…' She left a loaded pause, picking up her knife and fork.

‘Until what?' asked Florrie.

‘Until his girlfriend arrived.' Stella glanced around the table. ‘Oh, and his gorgeous Labrador's called Fred, by the way,' she said matter-of-factly, hoping her friends didn't detect the disappointment that was, for some strange reason, clawing at her insides. It was annoyingly distracting.

‘You're kidding?' Jasmine said, her face falling. ‘He's seriously got a girlfriend? I mean, we all saw the way he was looking at you, didn't we, lasses?'

‘Yeah, he looked like he was really into you, Stells.' Lark gave her a sympathetic look while the others responded with a series of nods and words of agreement.

Stella was relieved to hear it wasn't just her who'd got the body language so spectacularly wrong.

‘Looks like you had a lucky escape there, flower. Thank goodness you found out before things went any further.' Florrie gave her a small smile.

‘I wouldn't care but I can usually sniff out a cheating rat a mile off. My radar must be off-kilter with all this heat.' Stella gave a hollow laugh before tucking into her fish and chips, doing all she could to push Alex Bainbridge out of her mind. But it was proving difficult. His behaviour had got her stirred up. Stella already had issues with commitment thanks to her father walking out before she was born. As a teenager it had played on her mind relentlessly, his actions piercing her heart, though she'd never admit to it. He couldn't have expressed his lack of interest in her any more explicitly if he'd tried. The result of which had been that Stella had built a wall around her heart, it growing more impenetrable with every passing year. This, combined with her mother's attitude to relationships, meant Stella had never let a man get within reach of her heart.

One man had got closer than most, but as soon as she had felt the first stirrings of something that went beyond friendship or lust, Stella had backed off, warning sirens sounding loudly in her head. There was no way she was going to make the same mistake her mum had, and expose herself to hurt and heartache. Ben, a fellow barrister, had been devastated, telling her he'd fallen in love with her, but his words had only strengthened her resolve and she'd exercised greater caution since.

‘Right then,' said Lark, pulling Stella back to the present, ‘I think we're just about caught up with all our news except for our Maggie here. How's things going with the very fabulous Micklewick Bear Company?'

‘I still feel like I'm dreaming actually.' A wide smile lit up Maggie's face. ‘As you know, the logo for Campion's has been finalised as have the designs for their signature teddy bear. I'm also just about caught up with my orders thanks to Jean's help; she's amazing I don't know what I'd do without her.'

Maggie created handmade bears out of reclaimed luxury wool and had recently been approached by Campion's of York – a once luxury store that was undergoing a renaissance under its new mystery owner. Their flagship store was now based in the quaint market town of Middleton-le-Moors, and Maggie had been approached by their head buyer with a proposal to make a range of signature teddy bears as well as designing a new company logo. She'd been initially torn about whether she could accept such an offer with a baby on the way, but a well-loved local lady by the name of Jean Davenport had stepped in with an offer of help. Long-since retired, Jean had been a close friend of old Mr and Mrs Harte of The Happy Hartes Bookshop and, as a consequence, had become a good friend of Florrie's, helping out at the bookshop's readings and book club. It turned out she was also a proficient seamstress and now worked for Maggie on a part-time basis.

‘Wow! Sounds like things are really taking shape for you, Mags.' Stella smiled at her, pleased to see her friend seemed to have put her accident behind her.

‘And Jean's loving working with you,' said Florrie. ‘She called in this morning, full of chatter about it.'

Maggie smiled. ‘That's so good to hear.'

The evening passed in a bubble of banter and laughter as it always did with Stella and her exuberant group of friends of a Friday evening. Alex Bainbridge had only sneaked into her mind a couple of times but she'd refused to dwell on what might have been. She'd been relieved to see him leave the pub with his girlfriend a good hour earlier, allowing her to relax.

Before they knew it, Mandy was ringing the old ship's bell that hung above the bar, calling for last orders.

‘Blimey, is that the time already,' Lark said, draining her glass.

‘Time seems to run away with itself when we get together,' said Jasmine.

Their drinks finished, Maggie fished into her bag for the Land Rover keys. ‘Right, lasses, who wants to try out Bear's new Landie and have a lift home?'

All but Lark, who lived no more than two strides away in Seashell Cottage along Smugglers Row, and Stella, who said she wanted to clear her head, accepted the offer.

‘Much as I'd love to have a whizz around in it, I'll decline for now, thanks, Mags,' Stella said. She regularly walked home alone, the streets of Micklewick Bay being safe to do so.

Standing outside the Jolly, darkness had descended and a clear sky splashed out above, the pub lights stretched out, illuminating the garden area. The gentle hush of the tide inching towards the sea wall was punctuated by the cries of a solitary seagull.

Lark pulled Stella into a hug, setting her bangles jingling as they slid down her arms. ‘Good luck for Sunday, Stells. I'm sure it'll go well, Rhys must be nice if your mum likes him.'

‘I reckon Lark's right,' said Maggie, the others all agreeing.

‘Thanks, you lot.' Stella was grateful for their support. She'd texted her friends earlier in the week and shared the news about her mum's invitation to meet the new man in her life. They'd all replied with a slew of positive texts and calls, no one being judgemental or issuing warnings. Their responses had gone some to easing the doubts that had lurked in her mind.

‘Let us know how you get on,' said Florrie, resting her hand on Stella's arm. ‘And you're always welcome to pop and see me if you feel you need to chat.'

‘Thanks, Florrie, that's kind.' Stella smiled down at her.

‘Sure you don't want a lift?' Maggie asked. ‘It's gone a bit nippy.'

‘Positive, thanks, Mags, I've got my cardigan.'

Stella watched as the Land Rover's lights disappeared around the corner on its way to Skitey Bank, the low rumble of its engine growing distant. Drawing in a deep breath, she made her way towards the bottom prom, the cool air creeping in from the sea slipped over her skin, triggering an eruption of goosebumps and making her shiver.

She'd just shrugged her cardigan on when she heard a voice behind her.

‘Don't shposhe I can tempt you to a glash of Gut Rot, can I, Shtella?'

Stella's heart sank. Sharing a ropy glass of Gut Rot with a stewed Ando Taylor wasn't quite how she'd hoped to end her Friday night, especially when she'd anticipated getting to know a certain tall and handsome stranger a little better.

‘Not tonight, thanks, Ando.' She hooked her cross-body bag over her shoulder. ‘Night then,' she said, striding off before he had a chance to engage her in any further conversation.