Page 57 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

THIRTY-TWO

Saturday morning arrived welcoming the return of summer. Stella threw open the balcony doors of her bedroom, sunshine and sounds of the seaside rushing in, including a vocal herring gull that was perched on the balcony above Alex’s flat. She heard the rattle of a door handle over at his apartment and quickly ducked back inside. There was no way she wanted to come face to face with him for several reasons, one of which was that she didn’t want him to see her in such a dishevelled state. Her hair had escaped its plait and she had the feeling her face bore the creases from her pillow. It was so not a good look.

It had taken her a while to fall asleep the previous evening, adrenalin pumping around her veins after her unpleasant experience on her way home. She made a mental note to contact DC Stephens; this attempted intimidation needed to stop, she had enough going on in her life right now.

As she set her coffee machine away, a ripple of excitement rushed through her; she was looking forward to having her friends round tonight, welcoming them into her new home. Much as she loved her apartment, it was a big space to fill. Stella had been taken off guard a couple of times when she’d detected an air of… not loneliness, but something hovering onthe periphery of it. She wondered if her mum had ever felt that way at Magnolia Gardens after she’d left for university. That was a big house too, with generously proportioned rooms and high ceilings, the sound almost echoing around the place. The thought that it might have had something to do with why her mum had finally welcomed some romance – and Rhys – into her life crossed her mind. Her following thought was if she’d find herself in a similar position one day, but dismissed the notion before it had a chance to take root, moving swiftly on to Bill and Pim; she’d thought about inviting them this evening but Saturday night was always crazy busy at The Cellar and it was too short notice to get anyone to cover for them. Maybe they could get together over Sunday dinner at the Jolly some time? she mused.

Her father slipped into her mind, how he’d acted as if he didn’t know her the previous evening. He could at least have said hello, rather than averting his gaze before either of them had a chance to speak. ‘His loss!’ she said resolutely, adding a dash of frothy milk to her cup of coffee. She’d got this far without his presence in her life and she’d continue without it just fine. She didn’t need him; she’d satisfied her curiosity and that had been enough. What she’d witnessed hadn’t made her want to get to know anything more about him. Perching on a bar stool, cradling her cup in her hands, she ignored the little pinch of hurt that had resurrected itself in her chest, turning her attention to her to-do list for that evening, she’d attend to its contents on her return from her Saturday morning run.

Stella’s eyes swept the living room, taking in the kitchen area, pleased with what she saw; her apartment looked sleek andinviting. She’d selected an upbeat, poppy playlist at a volume that wouldn’t hamper conversation. The scented candles had been lit for the last hour, their clean fragrance filling the air, the bouquet looked stunning on the sideboard, and the island was positively groaning with delicious looking nibbles from the deli. She’d flicked the fairy lights on in readiness for when the light had dimmed, adding to the ambience.

She’d already planned her outfit for the evening, selecting a grey silk slip dress with fine straps that crossed over at the back, and had swept her hair up into a chic chignon. On her feet were a pair of designer heels that fastened delicately around her ankles. She’d kept her make-up understated, adding a slick of deep pink lip gloss for impact.

She was taking a last check in the mirror when the buzzer of the intercom sounded, sending a frisson of excitement running through her. She strode over to it to see Florrie and Ed grinning back at her, with who she guessed were Florrie’s parents standing in the background. ‘Hiya, Stells,’ they said in unison.

‘Hiya, guys. Come on up.’ Smiling, she pressed the entry button.

Moments later, she was greeting them cheerily at the door.

‘By the way, flower, I thought I should mention there was a shifty-looking fella hanging around the door downstairs. Said he’d forgotten his key and asked if we could keep the door open for him, but we were having none of it, especially when we asked who he was and he was reluctant to give his name,’ Paula, Florrie’s mum, said once she’d released Stella from a warm hug.

‘Aye, too right, we told him to sling his hook,’ said Florrie’s dad, Charlie.

‘That’s very good of you.’ Stella smiled, hoping to conceal the alarm she felt; she was sure it must be the creepy man who’d been following her. But she wasn’t going to let him spoil her evening with her friends. He’d proved he was cowardlyby speeding off when she’d gone to confront him the previous evening. She didn’t want to dwell on his motive for trying to gain entry into Fitzgilbert’s Landing for a second time. He must be oblivious to the fact he’d be captured on CCTV again. She really must contact DC Stephens and get this sorted once and for all.

Not long after, Maggie and Bear arrived with Lark and Nate, as well as Jean Davenport and Jack Playforth. They’d scooped them up en route in their Land Rover. With Maggie being pregnant she was steering clear of alcohol so had volunteered to drive, allowing the others the option to enjoy a glass of wine.

‘I think it’s probably best if we wait for the others to arrive before we give you your pressies,’ said Jasmine, who had a large cake carrier in her hands; she’d arrived with her parents just after Maggie and her carful.

‘Who are we waiting for?’ asked Maggie, looking around just as the buzzer went again.

‘My mum and Rhys, and the couple from upstairs,’ said Stella, handing Nate a bottle of beer before heading over to the intercom. She smiled to see her mum’s face on the screen. ‘Mum, you could just use your key, you know!’ she said, chuckling.

‘I know, lovey, but I don’t like to be pushy and presumptuous.’ Her mum’s words sent a prickle of guilt rushing over Stella, reminding her of how only days ago she’d been creeping around her mum’s bedroom and sifting through her jewellery box and pilfering a letter. Not her finest hour by any stretch of the imagination.Best not dwell on that tonight!She was saved from thinking any further of it by the arrival of Brooke and Marcus and the introductions that followed.

‘Right then, Stells, now we’re all here, I think it’s time to hand over your apartment warming presents.’ Jasmine beamed.

‘You really didn’t need to get me anything,’ Stella said. ‘I just thought it’d be fun to have a get-together now I’ve got unpacked, welcome you all to my new apartment.’

‘Is Alex not coming?’ Stella’s mum asked, looking puzzled.

‘No, he won’t be here tonight, Mum,’ Stella said firmly. ‘I’ll explain later.’ She could feel her mum scrutinising her face but she didn’t want to discuss Alex tonight, he was strictly off limits.

‘Anyroad, here’s my offering; it’s chocolate cake, by the way.’ Evidently picking up on the non-verbals flying between Stella and her mum, Jasmine jumped in, shooting Stella a knowing look.

‘Thanks, Jazz, that’s so kind.’ Stella gave her a grateful smile as she lifted the lid off the cake carrier, a gasp escaping her lips as she looked down at the intricate creation. ‘Oh, Jazz! It’s stunning!’ A series of wows ran around the room as everyone gazed in awe at Jasmine’s handiwork. Before them was the Fitzgilbert’s Landing building skilfully recreated in sugar paste and fondant icing, right down to the wrought-iron balconies and metal window frames. Standing beside the building was a sugar paste version of Stella in her barrister’s wig and robes, a brief tied with pink ribbon tucked under her arm, vertiginous heels adorning her feet. Curling sugar paste waves trimmed the side of the cake, with biscuit crumb sand spread over the base. There was even a seagull on the roof. Though the mix of features could, on paper, be considered somewhat incongruous, in cake form, it worked brilliantly, with Jasmine’s skill and personality shining through. ‘Jazz, this isamazing! It must’ve taken you hours. Thank you so much.’ Stella felt a rush of love for her friend, appreciating the busy – at times frantically so – life she had, yet she’d set time aside to make this for her. Stella swept her into a hug and squeezed her tight, Jasmine joking that she was getting dangerously short of breath.

‘You really need to give up your other jobs and focus on this, Jazz. You’re so talented,’ said Florrie.

‘Hear, hear,’ said Maggie.

‘That’s what we keep telling her, isn’t it, Steve?’ Heather, Jasmine’s mum, said, pride shining in her eyes.

‘Aye, it is.’ Her dad nodded, smiling fondly.

‘It’s just a bit of chocolate cake and fondant icing.’ Blushing, Jasmine batted the compliment away as she always did. ‘Mind, if I’d heard the story of your disappearing undies sooner, I might’ve been tempted to make one with a load of skimpy sugar paste knickers strewn all over it instead, but I’d already made a start on this so it was too late.’ She gave a dirty giggle.

‘Sounds like you had a lucky escape there, Stells.’ Lark chuckled.

---