Page 30 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

Once Stella had arranged the many vibrantly coloured cushions on her chair, she said, ‘Well, after last Friday at the Jolly…’

‘Wow!’ Lark said, her eyes wide when Stella had finished telling her. ‘You actually live in the same building, on the same floor?’

‘I know, you couldn’t make it up, could you?’

‘You do realise this is fate, don’t you, Stells? I mean, I know you don’t believe in things like that; a load of “old rot” is how I seem to recall you’ve described it on several occasions.’

‘Was I really that harsh?’ Stella asked with a giggle.

‘You were.’

‘Sorry.’ Stella pulled an apologetic face.

‘No worries. Anyway, surely you have to believe there’s something in it after all that? There’s really no disputing it. The planets have finally aligned for you – and for your mum by the sound of things – which is just amazing.’ Lark’s face was wreathed in smiles.

‘I suppose it is pretty compelling.’

‘It’s wonderful, Stells! I always had a sense you’d fall in love and have a happy-ever-after.’ She clapped her hands together excitedly.

‘Now let’s not get carried away, Lark. I’ve only known him five minutes.’ Stella shook her head, amused.

‘Ah, but what a five minutes they’ve been! You’ve never felt this way before; you’ve always mocked love and romance, but now look at you, you’re positively glowing with it.’

Stella couldn’t help but smile as her heart swelled with happiness. She knew there’d be no point trying to fool Lark with all her extra-sense malarkey, but it was time to move the conversation in a different direction; she was still struggling toget her head around her feelings for Alex. ‘Anyway, my reason for popping in, other than to say hello, is to ask if you’ve still got that black and white print of Thorncliffe?’ She asked, when Lark had eventually stopped enthusing about her Alex news.

‘Ah, sorry, Stells. If you mean the vintage photo, I’m afraid it’s gone. Old photos are always very popular when they come in,’ she said regretfully.

‘Drat. I wish I’d snapped it up when I first spotted it. If I hadn’t been so distracted, I would’ve done.’ Stella had been heading down Station Square, waiting for the car in front to slip into a parking space, when she’d glanced across at Lark’s window display, and the photograph instantly caught her eye, the dark tones emphasising the cliff’s power, white, foaming waves crashing at its base, a sky full of brooding clouds above, the odd shaft of sunshine reaching down. She thought it would look perfect in her apartment, hanging above the fire and had meant to text Lark, asking her to put it to one side for her. Unfortunately, she’d been bombarded with work-related phone calls and emails when she’d returned home and it had slipped her mind.

‘If any more come in, I’ll check with you before putting it out in the shop.’

‘Thanks, Lark.’

‘Actually, with all the excitement about you and Alex, I’ve only just realised you’re here and not at work.’ She giggled. ‘How come? I thought you were in the middle of that dreadful trial with that dreadful man opposite that dreadful barrister.’

‘That’s a lot of “dreadfuls” coming from you, Lark, flower.’ Stella chuckled. As a rule, you never heard Lark say anything negative about anyone. ‘To cut a long story short, the trial had to be adjourned so I decided to take the rest of the week off. Thought I could do a bit of catch-up with all the forms we get,and also tackle the rest of the boxes in readiness for you all coming round on Saturday.’

‘Fab, and how’s it going?’

‘Not as well as I’d hoped, I should probably be heading off. I still need to drop my auction contribution off with Bill and Pim.’

‘Hey, Stella, it’s good to see you.’ Pim beamed at her, his blue eyes crinkling warmly as she made her way over to the bar of The Cellar. Tall, broad-shouldered and blond, he fitted the Dutch stereotype perfectly. He and his husband Bill had opened the microbrewery with attached bar just a few years ago and it had instantly become a roaring success, with its taste-bud-tempting beers and “contemporary-saloon” décor. The lite-bites they’d added recently had added to its popularity.

‘So, what can I do for you?’ he asked in his lilting Netherlands accent, ceasing his polishing of the beer pumps.

‘Hi, Pim. I’ve just come to drop this off for tomorrow night’s auction.’ She handed him the envelope containing the voucher. ‘Should cover a three-course meal for two with a bottle of wine.’

‘Thanks, that’s really generous of you.’

‘Hey, it’s for a good cause.’

‘Hi, Stella.’ Bill slipped behind the bar, his neatly trimmed beard and close-cropped hair standing in contrast to Pim’s clean-shaven appearance and casually floppy, jaw-length bob. ‘Looking forward to tomorrow night?’

‘Very much so. I’ve just dropped off my contribution, apologies if it’s a bit late.’

‘The timing’s perfect. Pim and I are going to go through all the gifts and promises later this afternoon. Oh, and did he tell you we’ve reserved your usual table?’

‘Not yet, I haven’t had a chance.’ Pim rolled his eyes good-naturedly. ‘By the way, Stella, we’ve reserved your usual table,’ he said with a chuckle, making Bill return his eye roll.

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