Page 62 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

Peering at the intercom screen, her heart sank when she saw Johan de Groote looking back at her.

Myriad thoughts began darting around her mind. She hadn’t expected to see him again and the last thing she wanted was to invite him up to her apartment, especially after what Pim had told her about him asking to stay with him and Bill. She most certainly didn’t want to give him ideas about getting his feet under the table here. Should she answer? Or should she pretend she wasn’t in? Reminding herself that he would more than likely have seen the light from her desk lamp, she thought it was probably best to reply. Plus, she’d never been one to shy away from anything and she wasn’t about to start now, errant father or no errant father.

She buzzed him up, telling him which floor she was on, then quickly slid the papers relating to her brief into the drawer of her desk and flipped the lid on her laptop. The details of her case were of a sensitive and highly confidential nature and she couldn’t afford to have anyone sniffing around them.

The knock on the door sent her pulse jumping. Opening it she was greeted by the man she still couldn’t get used to thinking of as her father. Her eyes fell to the large holdall in his hand.

‘Stella.’ He gave a lazy smile and stepped inside, towering over her. Dumping his bag, he headed down the hallway towards the living room in a self-assured manner. Irked, Stella closed the door and followed up behind.

She noted his blond hair was damp with beads of mizzle, as was his raincoat which he took off and threw over the back of the sofa, sending another dart of annoyance through her. She scooped it up and hung it on a peg in the hall.

Returning to the living room, she found him glancing around, his hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans, as if appraising the place. He wandered over to a carved dark stone bowl on the coffee table. Picking it up, he checked the stamp on the base, his eyebrows lifting. ‘Expensive.’

‘It was a gift.’

He nodded, pursing his lips together as he cast his eyes over the furnishings. ‘Nice place you’ve got here. You’re clearly doing very well for yourself.’ He had a lazy, almost soporific air about him; so at odds with her motivated demeanour.

She folded her arms. ‘I work hard. You reap what you sow. Someone once told me it’s the same with kids.’ She knew she shouldn’t have said that, but she couldn’t resist.

‘Ouch,’ he said, giving a sardonic laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

‘To what do I owe this surprise visit?’ she asked. ‘I get the feeling this isn’t just a social call.’ She wondered how he’d managed to track her down; she hadn’t told him her address and she couldn’t imagine anyone she knew sharing it with him.

‘How about we have a nice chat over a coffee from that fancy machine I can see over there?’ He nodded in its direction. ‘I can tell you then.’ He gave her a smile that could only be described as smarmy.

‘Okay.’ Much as she would rather he hadn’t turned up like this, a part of her couldn’t help but be intrigued by what he had to say.

With the coffee made, she headed over to the sofa where Johan had made himself comfortable and had stretched out his long legs and rested his feet – which were encased in annoyingly muddy shoes – on the coffee table, scattering the books that were there, including the one from Florrie and Ed.

She set his mug down in front of him and took the seat furthest away but which afforded her a full view of his face. She was keen to read his expression, hoping to pick up on any telltale signs that would reveal what he was feeling and whether he was telling the truth. The fact that his pale blue eyes were so like Pim’s – and her own – she found slightly disconcerting. The similarity was further emphasised by the thick, straight, blondeyebrows the three of them shared, though hers had been tamed by regular appointments at the beautician’s.

‘So,’ she said, taking a sip of her coffee, watching him all the while, ‘you were going to tell me why you’re here.’

‘You don’t beat about the bush, do you?’ He gave another of his small laughs. There was something about their tone that were beginning to grate on her. ‘Straight in there, no niceties. Boom!’ He jabbed his fingers as if to demonstrate. ‘Just like your mother.’

Stella bristled. ‘I’m proud to be like my mum, she’s an amazing woman and someone I’ve looked up to all my life. She’s the reason I’m “doing well” for myself.’ She added emphasis to his words.

Johan nodded, the small smile hovering over his mouth venturing into the realms of a sneer. He reached for his coffee and slumped back into the sofa, one arm slung casually over the back, his body language in no way suggesting he was a stranger here. ‘Nice coffee,’ he said. ‘Good and strong.’

‘Glad you like it.’ Stella couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen anyone so arrogantly comfortable in their own skin. She tried to quell her rising irritation. ‘You were about to tell me why you’re here.’ Her North Yorkshire accent stood in stark contrast to his lilting Dutch tones.

‘Well,’ he said, drawing out the word as his gaze slowly swept around the room once more, ‘isn’t a father allowed to pay his daughter a visit?’

Stella almost choked on her coffee. ‘Excuse me?’

‘My reason for coming here is that I think it would be a good idea if we got to know each other after all these years.’ His eyes met hers; the look she saw in them could easily have been construed as challenging.

Was he kidding?She held his gaze, there was no way she was going to back down, give him the slightest impression hewas in charge, had the upper hand. She knew his game; she’d seen way too many people like him in the witness box, expert manipulators. ‘That’s interesting, because that’s the very last impression you gave on Friday night in The Jolly Sailors when you blanked me,’ she said, her voice firm.

A shadow of discomfort flittered across his face, but Johan was undeterred. ‘If I remember the situation correctly, it was you who ignored me. You turned away and headed back to your friends without even saying hello. But I’m prepared to be the bigger person, to let it go and move on for the sake of our relationship.’ The calm tone he used and the way he’d raised his palms at her was seriously beginning to grate.

Stella set her jaw, shaking her head in disgust. It was a blatant lie. ‘As far as I can see, we have no relationship; by staying away for thirty-three years, you’ve made sure of that. And please refrain from coming into my home and telling barefaced lies, accusing me of something I did not do.’

‘I’m not lying.’ He gave a shrug. ‘I’m simply saying that’s how it seemed to me.’

There was clearly no getting through to this man.

‘Whatever,’ she said, batting his comment away. ‘I’d like to know therealreason you’re here. No more beating around the bush.’

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