Page 1 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

PROLOGUE

How was it possible to love anyone this much? Eighteen-year-old Alice Hutton gazed down at the bundle cradled in her arms. She’d never set eyes on anything so utterly perfect, the little button nose and rosebud mouth. Gently, she stroked her daughter’s doll-sized hand and marvelled at her perfectly formed fingernails, so reminiscent of tiny seashells. In an instant, the small hand grasped her finger, squeezed tightly and sent a tidal wave of joy flooding through her chest.Oh my days!Alice felt certain her heart would burst at any moment. The fear that had crept over her in the run-up to this day had been engulfed by the overwhelming feeling of love that was now surging through her, infiltrating every fibre of her body and pushing the exhaustion of a sixteen-hour labour out of the way. Her baby was less than an hour old and yet she’d already managed to generate such powerful, almost primal, feelings it took Alice’s breath away.

She rested into the stiff pillows of her bed, too wired for sleep despite the hospital’s soporific warmth that belied the frosty January night. All was quiet on the maternity ward except for the background hum of medical equipment, the occasional voice from the corridor or the swift steps of a midwife walking by. Itwas almost midnight. Alice and her little daughter were the only ones awake in her bay, while the three other newly delivered mothers and their babies apparently slept soundly.

She may not have succeeded at much in her eighteen years, except for being a huge disappointment to her parents – and if what they’d said to her the last time she’d seen them was to be believed, she’d really excelled at that. Her now ex- boyfriend Johan hadn’t been too impressed with her either for that matter, not that she cared what he thought now. But, despite the great list of failings and faults that had been hurled at her by both parties, there was one thing she was determined to do well. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, that the road ahead would be rocky, but Alice was going to do all in her power to be the best mum she could possibly be to this gorgeous little cherub, so warm and snug in her arms. She didn’t need her parents, and she most certainly didn’t need her waste-of-space ex-boyfriend. In fact, Alice decided, she didn’t need anyone. She’d make a new life for them both, somewhere where nobody knew them. And she’d prove them all wrong; she’d make a success of herself, make her little daughter proud. Alice felt her determination soar. If there was one thing she had by the bucket-load, it was determination.

Buoyed by her new-found resolve, Alice smiled down at the two navy-blue pools blinking up at her. Speaking softly, she said, ‘Hello there, little one, welcome to the world. I’m your mummy.’

She closed her eyes as she leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, breathing in the delicious smell of newborn. Her heart swelled with emotion, triggering a lump in her throat, the burn of tears misting her eyes. Blinking them back, she said, ‘I’m afraid it’s just you and me, and I know I might not seem like much right now, but I promise you this, I’m going to take good care of you and make sure you have the bestlife possible. We don’t need anyone else. We’re going to take on the world, show them we can do it. Just you see!’

With a sigh, she glanced out of the window. Though the light pollution of the city of York had watered down the Milky Way, it gladdened Alice to see that the stars were still visible, quietly twinkling away in the night sky.

It was while she was gazing up at the stars that a name came to her.

‘Stella,’ she said quietly, before repeating it as if trying it out for size. ‘Stella.’ She recalled reading that the name meant star, which sounded appealing and somehow appropriate in this quiet moment. She moved her gaze to her little daughter, as a smile spread across her face. ‘That’s it! That’s the one!’ she said softly as excitement tingled through her.

Though she’d drawn up a list in the knowledge she was having a girl, Alice had struggled to settle on a first name. Nothing seemed to appeal or feel right. Unlike her baby’s middle name, which had taken no thinking about at all. Alice had already decided it was going to be May in memory of her beloved maternal grandmother to whom she’d been close until her death four years earlier. But as her due date had inched ever closer, a first name had remained impossible to choose.

Until tonight.

‘Stella May Hutton. Perfect!’ Alice smiled happily, dropping a soft kiss to her baby’s brow. ‘My little star.’

ONE

THIRTY-THREE YEARS LATER

Stella slid the off-white horsehair barristers’ wig from her head and threw it onto the large table that occupied the centre of the oak-panelled robing room of York Crown Court, puffing out her cheeks as she did so. It had been a tough week, one she wasn’t sorry to see the back of. Only a handful of fellow advocates remained at court, most heading off as soon as they could, intent on making the most of their Friday evening. And, much as she loved her job as a criminal barrister, today she’d be glad to shed her robes and head back home to Micklewick Bay on the North Yorkshire Coast.

‘What’s up, Hutton?’ asked a plummy voice from the other side of the table, pulling her out of her thoughts. It wasn’t unusual for members of the bar to address one another by their surname. ‘Thought you’d be happy it’s Friday at last.’

She glanced over to where the voice came from and released a noisy sigh. ‘Hi, Ferdy, didn’t see you sitting there.’ She dredged up a smile. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am it’s Friday, but it’s been a right pain of a day, that’s all. Actually, make that it’sbeen a right pain of a week.’ Her North Yorkshire accent stood in stark contrast to the well-spoken tones of her fellow barrister, but Stella had never felt compelled to modify the way she spoke to “fit in” as some of her contemporaries had, which resulted in some amusing, affected tones. She shrugged off her black gown, dropping it onto the seat before her.

‘Ah, yes, I’d heard you were the unlucky so-and-so who’s prosecuting one of the notorious Dixon clan opposite Elliott; a dodgy duo if ever there was one.’ Aiken Ferdinand KC pulled a sympathetic face, closing his laptop.

Stella nodded, reaching around to the back of her neck and unfastening the starched white collarette with its attached bands, pulling it free from where it was tucked in the jacket of her tailored black suit. ‘Hmm. And don’t I know about it.’ She threw the collarette on top of her wig then smoothed her hands over her blonde hair that was tied back in the usual sleek ponytail she wore for work.

‘Ughh!You have my sympathies. I’ve heard the case is a stinker and it won’t be helped by the fact your opponent’s a devious weasel. Wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.’

‘Tell me about it. Thanks to Elliott’s fannying about, and deliberately dragging his heels, the trial has run into next week which has meant I’ve had to return a manslaughter trial. The CPS aren’t happy about it, but there’s nothing I can do.’

Stella rolled her eyes as she headed over to the line of heavily polished, age-worn oak lockers, stopping at the one allocated to her and pulling out her red cloth brief bag that bore her initials embroidered in cream wool. She dumped it heavily on the table beside her laptop and papers, before opening it and fishing out her black metal wig tin, her name printed on it in gold lettering. Ferdy watched as she folded her robes neatly before pushing them into the roomy fabric bag, then grabbed her wig tin andplaced it on top. That done, she tugged firmly on the bag’s drawstring rope, ensuring it was closed.

‘That really is rotten luck, Hutton. And I’ve heard the defendant’s family have been giving you a rough time too, heckling from the public gallery.’

She released another weary sigh. She’d just passed them giving Vaughan Elliott an earbashing on the corridor, with the odd vociferous insult being hurled her way.

‘Yeah, they have. There’s no doubting where the defendant gets his charming personality. His father was shouting his mouth off about how his son was innocent and that if he’s found guilty it’ll be a travesty of justice. He conveniently appears to have forgotten his son’s string of convictions for assault and aggravated burglary, not to mention drug dealing. All carried out before he’d celebrated his twenty-third birthday too, the little cherub.’

‘I dare say the said little cherub will have picked up a few tips from his dear old dad Gav,’ Ferdy said wryly. ‘That family are trouble, and not one of them seem to be in possession of a conscience, as his father’s outburst testifies.’

‘Oh, without a doubt. He only quietened down when Judge Hoskinson threatened to hold him in contempt of court and send him to the cells.’

Stella decided not to share that when she’d glanced behind at the public gallery – which was something she rarely ever did – she came eye-to-eye with Gavin Dixon who was directing a menacing glare at her. The ferocity of the look had shocked her for a moment, sending a chill up her spine, but she’d kept her poker-face and quickly regrouped. There was no way she was going to let such an unpleasant bully intimidate her or interfere with her carrying out her job.

Ferdy gave an amused smile. ‘Knowing Judge Hoskinson, it wouldn’t take much for him to have him sent down to cool off.’

‘Shame he didn’t carry out his threat today which, I can confirm, really is officially the day from hell. The complainant’s only gone hostile on me, refusing to give evidence, saying that it was all her fault and she’d asked for it because she’d provoked her husband.’ Stella shook her head in disbelief. ‘Not sure how she can blame herself for him giving her such a violent beating he’d ended up breaking her arm and three ribs. He’s clearly been working on her, getting into her head. I just wish she could see that it’s not her fault and he’ll end up hurting her again.’

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