Wish Upon a Star

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘Then let’s hope they’ve caught it in time, whatever it is,’ Ma said. ‘Shall I come in now and do you want me to bring anything?’

  ‘She’s in a small side room on her own, and I’m staying here overnight,’ I said, and told her where the emergency bags I always keep packed were. She said she’d be in shortly with them. ‘What about your car?’

  ‘They don’t have overnight car parks; I’ll have to move it somewhere.’

  ‘We’ll work something out, don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Stella told the consultant he was a bad Dr Rabbit and the nurse that she wouldn’t let her work in her cottage hospital,’ I said, managing a laugh, despite my worry.

  But when I was talking to Jago a few minutes later and he said he’d be in as soon as he could get there, I began to cry, which is not like me in the least.

  ‘But it’s always busy at the Happy Macaroon on market days and, anyway, haven’t you and David got orders to make?’ I protested, sniffling.

  ‘Nothing he can’t handle on his own,’ he assured me. ‘Dorrie and Sarah are covering the shop, and although I’ll have to deliver a macaroon party cone order first, it’s in Ormskirk so it won’t take long.’

  Ma arrived first with Hal in tow, but he’d just come to take my car back home and went off with the keys, so that was one thing fewer to worry about. She’d brought both our overnight bags, too.

  Stella had fallen asleep and Ma tiptoed in and stroked her hot forehead as she slept whispering, ‘Poor little mite!’

  ‘I think we caught it quickly – I hope so,’ I said devoutly.

  After a while she went home again to feed the animals and I said I’d ring her if there was any change; then soon afterwards, Jago arrived.

  Stella was still asleep, though I thought she didn’t look as flushed, just very small and frail in the big white expanse of bed.

  ‘Oh, Jago!’ I said, running straight into his arms. He folded me into a strong, reassuring hug.

  ‘It’s going to be all right, Cally.’

  ‘I think she’s starting to look better already … or I could just be fooling myself,’ I told him.

  He looked down on her tenderly. ‘She’s certainly fast asleep and that’s probably the best thing for her. She doesn’t look very flushed, either, so you’re probably right about that.’

  ‘She hated it when they put the line in her arm and … well, it really brought home to me what I’ll be putting her through in Boston now she’s old enough to know what’s happening.’

  ‘I know, but at least this should be the last time she has to face an operation.’

  ‘But what if it all goes wrong and—’

  ‘It won’t,’ he broke in firmly. ‘It’s all going to be fine.’

  We sat on either side of her bed talking in whispers until she woke. She was much more her usual self and pleased to see him, though she told him indignantly what the doctors and nurses had done and showed him the drip in her arm.

  ‘Do they do this in America?’

  ‘I think they might put one needle in your arm, but then you’ll be fast asleep after that while they mend your heart and when you wake up you’ll soon start to feel much better.’

  ‘Huh!’ she said. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

  ‘Who says that?’ I asked, startled.

  ‘You do, Mummy,’ she told me. ‘You say it all the time.’

  ‘Well then, you’d better believe it,’ Jago told her, grinning.

  Ma returned bearing a special present from Hal – an angel feather.

  Stella was enchanted by the lovely plume of purest silky white and wanted to know how he had got it, but Ma told her it was a big secret.

  She sat with her while Jago and I went and had something to eat in the hospital cafeteria, though I don’t think either of us noticed what was on our plates. When we got back to Stella’s room the nurse had been in in our absence and said her temperature was coming down, so I felt a little less fraught.

  Ma went home but Stella didn’t want Jago to go; she wanted us both there … and in the morning when I awoke in the chair by the bed he was fast asleep in the one opposite, unshaven and uncomfortable, and I felt a strong stirring of that deep and entirely un-sisterly love …

  Then Stella opened her eyes and murmured querulously, ‘Mummy?’

  Stella made a rapid recovery and they said the tests they’d done were inconclusive, so it was probably some anonymous infection she’d picked up, which luckily they’d stopped in its tracks before it had a chance to properly take hold.

  They kept her in for another night to be sure and then released her with a warning to me to be careful and make sure she took things very easy. But I could already see that the stuffing had been knocked out of her by the episode and I didn’t need the warning – I wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and keep her safe …

  It only occurred to me to tell Adam’s parents what had happened when we got her home – I wasn’t used to having anyone other than Ma and my friends to consider. Still, it was probably better that they only got to know when she was feeling better, so they were spared some of the worry.

  ‘We’ll try and tell Adam,’ Mrs Scott said, ‘but I’m afraid we’re a little cross with him because he’s thrown up his job, and he and the Calthrop girl have left the country. They’re travelling round the world for a year, but he only told me after they’d left.’

  ‘Really? That was a bit sudden,’ I said.

  ‘He says they’re engaged, too,’ she told me.

  ‘I think they’ll be perfect for each other,’ I assured her. They were shallow, selfish and thoughtless: the perfect match.

  Jago wasn’t all that surprised either, and said drily, ‘I don’t somehow think they’ll be inviting us to the wedding.’

  Jago tried again to persuade me to let him go to America with us, but I was adamant he shouldn’t, because he really needed to get Honey’s Croquembouche Cakes going before his winnings ran out.

  It was quite likely we’d be in the States for weeks, too, and he simply couldn’t take all that time off: it would be selfish of me to let him, especially when he’d already done so much for us …

  Chapter 38: On the Edge

  After this scare, and with less than a month to go before we flew out to Boston, I became even more terrified that Stella would get another infection and this time be too ill to travel.

  And now the realities of the operation had really come home to me – that they would stop her heart beating and hook her up to all kinds of machines that would keep her alive while the delicate surgery was performed. The prospect terrified me and gave me sleepless nights. But I could also see that even this small setback had taken its toll on Stella and, without the operation, she’d continue her steady decline, her resistance to any further infections weakening. I couldn’t bear to think of that alternative, either.

  Ormskirk were keeping the Boston hospital updated and they’d emailed me all kinds of information about children’s heart surgery and how long I could expect Stella’s recovery to take afterwards. So long as there is an afterwards …

  Stella was now worried too, since she was old enough and certainly smart enough to guess that more of the same as she’d just had awaited her in Boston, even though we kept reminding her that this would be the last time she had to face an operation like this and assuring her that she would be fine afterwards. Please God we were not all going to be proved liars.

  I was now totally Little Miss Neurotic: I’d told Chloe we were not going to playgroup till after the operation, and I turned tail and fled if I was anywhere with Stella and someone started to cough, sneeze or just looked vaguely diseased. I’d even wondered if I should make Stella wear a facemask on the flight, because we’d be cooped up over the Atlantic for hours with a lot of germy people, but Jenny talked me out of that one.

  So we carried on quietly, our social circle limited to home, Celia and Will, who were busily sorting out any last-minute arrangements for the trip
as they came up, and Jago, who luckily seemed resistant to coughs and colds. We still had little trips out to our favourite places and often went down to Honey’s, where a state-of-the-art croquembouche preparation area was being installed.

  The house was looking much more like a home now and Jago had found an old dresser on which to display a collection of antique moulds, dishes and jugs to rival my own.

  The last of the Stella’s Stars fundraising events was the book signing at Marked Pages with Ivo Hawksley and his wife, Tansy, Gregory Lyon and Seth Greenwood.

  The event was a distraction and surprisingly busy – in fact, at one point people were queuing out of the door, though that was mostly for Ivo, who had loads of fans for his Elizabethan crime novels. Lots of parents had brought their children to have their Slipper Monkey books signed by Tansy, too.

  Gregory Lyon was most popular with the photographers from the local papers, since he was dressed in a flowing green velvet cloak and, with his long silver hair and piercing blue eyes, he looked sort of alarming but splendid. I noticed that once he’d fixed his gaze on a customer, they didn’t go away without buying at least one of his books, so that the most unlikely people left clutching lurid supernatural thrillers.

  After the event we all had a cup of coffee together, and Gregory said Zillah had told him that my little one had a glowing future and he himself would perform a rite to ensure the best outcome, which was sort of comforting even if I wasn’t sure if I believed in that kind of thing.

  Raffy had stayed for coffee at the end too, and he added that his whole congregation were going to pray for Stella when she was in America, so it looked as though all my bases were covered.

  ‘It’ll be the meeting to wind the fundraising up soon,’ he added, ‘and I confidently expect we’ll have more than double the amount we set out to raise. In fact, the money from today’s event will just be the final cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake.’

  ‘I’m so grateful to everyone for their help. It’s been wonderful and I really do feel part of the community now.’

  ‘You are part of the community and will always be, whatever your plans are for the future. But I don’t suppose you’ve given that much thought yet.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I suppose I’m like one of those brides who are so busy planning their perfect wedding day that they don’t give a thought to what life will be like afterwards. When I sold the flat, I imagined that as soon as we could we’d be back to London again … but now, I don’t know.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about it. Things have a way of working themselves out,’ he said kindly.

  Stir a good tablespoon of peanut butter into the flapjack mixture. After baking, the flapjacks taste extra delicious with a thick layer of dark chocolate on top …

  Cally Weston: ‘Tea & Cake’

  Miss Honey invited us up for tea again, though I thought Stella seemed a little off colour and left her behind in Jenny’s capable hands. I’d made peanut butter and chocolate flapjacks that morning and she’d eaten part of one, so I was suddenly afraid she might have developed a peanut allergy.

  Jenny told me not to be daft, because she wasn’t likely to suddenly get one at four if there’d been no sign of it before, and I supposed she was right.

  Miss Honey looked frailer but cheerful, and although she was disappointed that Stella hadn’t come, she wished her well for the operation.

  ‘Perhaps, if I’m spared, you’ll bring her to see me when you get back,’ she said, then sighed. ‘Livens us all up no end, when children visit. It’s a pity poor Gladdie didn’t have any more.’

  ‘Any … more?’ I repeated blankly, as this sunk in. ‘You can’t mean—’

  ‘Ah, so your mother didn’t know all of the story, did she?’ Miss Honey said. ‘I don’t think it got round the village, but I thought the Almonds would be sure to talk about it.’

  ‘Apparently not. But if the Almonds knew, then does that mean your sister …’ I paused, wondering how to phrase this with least offence.

  ‘That Esau Almond got Gladdie pregnant on his last leave. She wrote to him as soon as she found out and so did Father – well, he was furious! Esau wrote back saying he’d put in for compassionate leave and they’d get married. But of course, that was just before D-Day, so that was the last she ever heard from him.’

  ‘Well … that makes more sense of the whole thing,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘But poor Gladys!’

  ‘Having a baby out of wedlock was a huge scandal at the time, though others in the village were rumoured to have been caught the same way – things were a bit different in the war. To go by the carryings-on on the telly, you’d find it hard to believe anyone ever bothered about these things. Sodom and Gomorrah, that’s what the world’s coming to.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ I said diplomatically. ‘What happened to your sister – and the baby?’

  ‘She kept it quiet because she hoped he’d get leave quickly so they’d be married before it showed, but when he didn’t, Father sent her up to his cousins in Scarborough, who had a small hotel. She was there when she heard he’d gone missing and then she lost the baby – stillbirth.’

  ‘How awful,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It took her a while to get over it and then she was knocked for six when she found out he hadn’t been killed in action after all. But after a while she met her husband and they were happy as Larry, so in the end it all worked out for the best.’

  After this final revelation I was even more amazed that Miss Honey had been so forgiving towards one of the hated Almond clan, and so was Ma when I told her. In fact, a few days later she went up there to see Miss Honey herself and I don’t know what they said to each other, but she seemed cheerful when she came back so I expect it cleared the air.

  Ma looked after Stella while I went to the village meeting to officially wind up the Stella’s Stars fundraising. Raffy was right – we’d raised well over twenty thousand pounds!

  I thanked everyone all over again, though Hebe Winter assured me there was no need.

  ‘We have all enjoyed it – and perhaps we should have a welcome back party when you come home? You will return by December, won’t you, so the party can be Christmas-themed, since the hall will be decorated ready by then anyway.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Florrie Snowball piped up eagerly, ‘I always like a good Christmas party, with mince pies and a bowl of hot punch. The Falling Star will provide that.’

  ‘We usually have a Christmas party for the kiddies,’ Jenny said, ‘so we could combine them and have it a little earlier this year.’

  ‘That would be lovely, but I think I should be throwing a party for all of you, to thank you for your help, not the other way round,’ I said. ‘If all goes well, we’ll be home long before Christmas …’

  My voice broke, because now the time to leave was so close, I was starting to panic at the thought of the difficult surgery that lay ahead for my little girl, and the chances of a good outcome … Though of course, there was no real alternative, for without it Stella would simply fade away.

  ‘Don’t worry, the surgery will go well,’ Hebe said, as if she had a direct line to the future.

  ‘Yes – I saw it in the leaves,’ Zillah Smith agreed firmly.

  ‘And the Angel cards said so too,’ Chloe Lyon said.

  ‘You see, all the omens are good, so there’s no need to fret,’ said Hebe Winter.

  ‘And we’ll all be praying for you,’ Raffy assured me.

  ‘Not perhaps all,’ interrupted Gregory Lyon, ‘but ceremonies will be performed and our good wishes and thoughts will be directed towards you.’

  ‘The party will be something for Stella to look forward to when she’s recovering after the operation, won’t it?’ Jago suggested. ‘You can tell her that Santa will drop in, with a very special Christmas present.’

  ‘Laurence will be contacting you all soon, then, to arrange the first of a series of meetings to organise the Christmas party,’ Hebe said.
‘The usual people and any extra volunteers.’

  ‘I’ll volunteer,’ Jago offered immediately.

  ‘Good man,’ she said.

  ‘Jonah from up at the hall is always the local Father Christmas,’ Mrs Snowball told me. ‘He loves to do it. There’ll be a gift for every child in the village, so we usually start to organise that around now anyway.’

  Suddenly I had a shining vision of a twinkling Christmas star beckoning to me from the other side of the dark chasm in which lay the dreaded operation, and I felt heartened.

  Stella had her final hospital check-up and suddenly, it was almost time to leave.

  The last-minute details had been sorted out: Hal was to look after Toto and Moses, and keep an eye on the cottage, and Jenny, by now a seasoned traveller, kept us calm and gave us sensible advice – not to mention describing to Stella all the fun places in Boston she’d be able to visit.

  Stella packed and repacked her favourite toys in her Trunki ladybird suitcase until she’d made her choice, though Bun was always a given, of course.

  And then soon, too soon, it was the night before our flight and the cases were lined up in the hall. It took me hours to get to sleep and no sooner than I had, the alarm went off.

  Jenny had met us at the airport, the luggage was checked in and Ma and Jenny had said their goodbyes and were waiting for us to join them. But Stella was clinging round Jago’s neck, her face hidden, and didn’t want to let him go.

  ‘I wish you were coming with us,’ she said.

  ‘I wish I was too,’ Jago said, ‘but I’ll be thinking about you all the time and we’ll talk on the phone a lot. And when the doctors have made you better and you’ve had a lovely holiday, I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back.’

  ‘With a gingerbread piggy?’

  ‘Yes – and then you and I and Mummy will make a gingerbread castle together for Christmas.’