by Katie Ginger
Lexi laughed. ‘That’s normally my daughter. Thank you for waiting. Raina would have finished serving you, but she’s up to her elbows in cream cheese frosting.’
Stella handed over her money and Lexi noticed how kind her eyes were. ‘No problem at all. I saw the picture on your phone when it rang. Your kids are really cute.’
‘When they’ve got their mouths shut they are,’ Lexi replied. She was definitely going to enjoy having Stella as a neighbour.
‘Here, you’d better have this too,’ said Raina, emerging from the back with a large slice of chocolate cake in an open white box. She sealed the lid and gently stamped it with the shop’s logo, then placed it on the counter.
‘It looks delicious,’ Stella replied eyeing the board for the price.
‘On the house,’ Raina said, as she went back out to her mixer. ‘And the coffee too.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t possibly.’ Stella shook her head and her milky-brown hair jiggled too.
‘Of course you can,’ Lexi replied. ‘There’s no point trying to argue with Raina. Believe me, I’ve tried. Take it as a moving-in present. Welcome to Swallowtail Bay.’ Stella balanced the coffee on top of the box and departed with the biggest smile Lexi had seen all morning. ‘That was nice of you,’ she said to Raina when Stella had left.
‘Well, she seems nice enough.’
Coming from Raina that was a huge compliment. Lexi wiped the counter with a tea towel. ‘Shall we finish our coffees then get going? Do you want me to prepare the regular orders or serve any walk-ins?’
‘You can serve the walk-ins as you want the tips.’ Raina squeezed her shoulder as she walked past. Though Raina wasn’t one for large shows of affection these little gestures meant the world to Lexi. ‘What do you think of Stella?’
‘She seems nice,’ said Lexi. ‘Why?’
‘No reason.’ Raina cleaned the counter top next to Lexi.
‘Come on, what is it?’ She knew that sneaky tone of Raina’s. She was up to something.
‘Well, I just thought you could—’
‘What?’ asked Lexi.
Raina stroked her short-cropped grey hair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Befriend her.’
Lexi pinned her with a stern glare. ‘She not a lost puppy, Raina. She’s a grown woman.’
‘Yes, but she’s just moved here and she doesn’t know anyone. And you haven’t got that many friends your own age either.’
‘That’s because I have horrible kids and no social life.’
Raina continued to clean the counter top, even though it was spotless. ‘You have beautiful, lovely children. You’ve no social life because you never try and go out – that’s all your own fault. You could help Stella settle in. Make friends with her.’
‘We’re not at school, Raina. She may not want people trying to be friends with her.’
‘But she might.’ She paused a moment. ‘I heard her say she wants to reopen on Saturday.’
‘So?’
‘Aren’t your kids at their dad’s this Saturday?’
Reluctantly, Lexi said, ‘Yes. So?’
‘And haven’t you got the day off? You could surprise her with coffee and cake at about eleven?’ When Lexi didn’t reply but looked at Raina from the corner of her eye, Raina said, ‘Good. I’ll have it ready. My treat. Besides, if she’s going to try and sell the last of Herbert’s stock I’m sure she won’t be busy. That man had some of the worst taste I’ve ever seen. His wife should never have died and let him run the shop on his own.’
Repressing a grin, Lexi said, ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean to.’
‘Now, what cake would you like to take?’
‘This is happening, isn’t it?’ said Lexi. ‘Whether I want it to or not. You’ve got your determined face on.’
Raina gave a triumphant smile. ‘Yes it is.’
‘Fine,’ Lexi replied. It was true she did get quite lonely. She always missed the other mums because her kids were in breakfast or after-school club, or she was too stressed to make polite conversation. And she could never afford childcare for nights out with the few friends she used to have. Stella had seemed really nice. Plus Lexi would be in town to see Vivien anyway. ‘You’d better make your special triple chocolate mousse cake then, or I’m heading straight back home.’
Raina simply winked, the battle well and truly won.
Chapter 3
Stella let Derek the plumber out the shop door and locked it behind him. With the leak now fixed, she could actually start cleaning and clearing out the rubbish. Her top was still a little damp and clinging to her cleavage but it couldn’t be helped. There was no point changing if she was just going to get dirty again, and what’s more, there was no one around to look at it.
Rearranging the shop would have to wait until tomorrow. There was no way she’d get all the stock cleared, the place cleaned up and then reorganised by the end of the afternoon, and tiredness was creeping into her bones, making her limbs feel heavy. She’d underestimated what an emotional day it would be. Not exactly underestimated – Stella had expected it to be full of happy emotions, just not the ups and downs she’d had so far. And she certainly hadn’t envisaged thinking about Isaac as much as she had. She’d tried so hard to put him behind her but the anger and hurt at their relationship ending had felt fresh and new today.
Frank was asleep on the old sofa in the bright but dusty living room, so Stella nipped out and grabbed her portable radio from the car. It was a sunny, breezy day with off-white clouds scudding across the sky, and the wind carried a cold chill. Hearing the waves in the distance calmed her frenzied energy a little. Stella loved the sound of the sea and it had been one of the things that drew her to Swallowtail Bay. When she’d visited, she’d walked along the beach with Frank, dodging the white frothy edges of the waves as they petered out on the pebbles beneath her feet. The cold salt-sea air had filled her lungs and bitten her cheeks, and now, hearing it again was reassuring. Back in the shop she turned on the radio and began singing along while she cleaned out the stock, storing it in the living room. Frank would occasionally open an eye to watch for a moment, distinctly unimpressed, as Stella filled the room with box upon box of goods.
Before long piles of dust and debris were dotted around the shop floor ready to be swept up, and almost half the shop had been cleared. Checking her phone, she saw that it was almost four o’clock and her stomach gave a loud gurgle. She’d been so busy tackling her to-do list she hadn’t realised how hungry she was. As she surveyed her new domain her heart soared; it seemed so much bigger with all the mess out.
The lovely paintings Herbert had left could be hung on the far side wall and the dressers, which were dark cherry wood and sucked in all the light, would look much better painted cream. They could hold all the painted china. Frank came to join her in the shop, nosing through the little piles of rubbish. ‘Don’t do that, Frank, I’ve just swept there.’ Frank paid no attention and, realising she’d left the dustpan and brush in the car, Stella tried to squeeze through the door. She opened it just wide enough to get through but Frank, ready for a walk and eager to get outside for the first time that day, ran past her and into the street.
‘Frank! Frank, you naughty boy, come back here.’
On the pavement, Frank turned and looked at her, wagging his tail. Stella’s heart began to pound hard. As trained as he was, he did have a habit of not returning if something more interesting was happening. If she ran after him he’d think it was a game of chase and leg it. The road was so much busier now with cars going past all the time. She needed to tempt him back with a treat. Reaching into her pockets, she cursed. There was nothing there and her hands began to shake. If she lost Frank she didn’t know what she’d do. Further up the road she could see a cyclist pedalling fast. Naughty old Frank loved chasing cyclists. She had to do something quick. ‘Frank, come here, please.’
Stella glanced back to the shop to see if she’d put any treats on the counter as a male voice said, ‘Hello, boy, what are y
ou—Oww!’
Spinning back in panic, Stella turned around as she heard Frank give an angry snarl and a bark. The man was clutching his hand and Frank ran back to Stella, cowering behind her legs. She grabbed his collar and shoved him inside the shop before closing the door. ‘Oh, Frank, what have you done now?’
‘Excuse me,’ demanded a deep angry voice. ‘Your dog just bit me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Stella, staring at the man’s hand, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound. There was no blood pouring from between his fingers so it couldn’t be that bad, but he could still report Frank as a violent dog and then Frank might get put down. The thought of it was terrifying and her throat closed over. Stella pulled her eyes away from the man’s hand to see his face. His light brown curly hair was cut short and he had a confident stance, even though he was holding his hand like it was about to drop off. Blimey, thought Stella. He was incredibly handsome and a strange fluttering in her lower tummy made her squirm. His blue eyes darted down to her T-shirt, which though dry now, was grubby and dirty, then back to her face. ‘I’m really, really sorry,’ she began, her voice a little shaky. ‘He’s just a bit jumpy today. Everything’s new. We just moved in.’
‘What, here?’ he asked in a dismissive tone. When she didn’t answer instantly he said, ‘Have you bought here?’ speaking slowly as if she were stupid.
‘Umm, yes. Yes, I have,’ Stella replied. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her hackles rose. ‘Look, is your hand okay? Can I see if it needs a plaster or anything?’ She didn’t have a plaster, but she needed to see if Frank had actually bitten him. The man ignored her and peered in through the windows. Though Stella was normally a calm, sensible sort of person, Mr Handsome had wound her up, speaking to her as if she were an idiot, and now nosing at her shop. ‘Is your hand okay, or do you need some help?’
He didn’t look at her. Instead, he walked to the window and stared into the shop. ‘What are you going to do with the place? Old Herbert couldn’t make it work. How are you planning to?’
Was it just her or was there a note of derision in his voice? Stella met his gaze. Mr Handsome might be gorgeous but he was also haughty and rude. She tried to keep her temper. ‘I’m going to sell off the old stock then source some more from local artists and makers.’
‘Makers?’ he repeated with a scoff. ‘Is that a newfangled word for craftsmen?’
Okay, enough was enough. ‘Don’t you mean craftspeople? It’s a more modern and inclusive term – and gender-neutral – but yes, craftsmen. Anyway, do you need a plaster?’ She said it in the same way old people ask foreign tourists if they speak English.
He shook out his hand as if to shake away the pain, then examined it. As far as Stella could make out there was nothing there. Frank hadn’t even left a red mark let alone punctured the skin. He must have just growled. He’d never bitten anyone before and thank goodness he wasn’t starting now. Mr Handsome was clearly just a wimp. He cleared his throat. ‘You’re lucky. He hasn’t done much damage.’
‘Much damage?’ Stella replied, her voice growing higher as her temper flared. ‘He hasn’t done any damage.’
‘He could have. What if I’d been a little kid? Then you’d have been in real trouble.’
‘If it was a child Frank wouldn’t have snapped. He loves kids. Did you grab his collar?’
Mr Handsome put his hands on his hips. ‘I was trying to stop him running into the road.’
‘Well, there you go,’ Stella replied, triumphantly. It wasn’t Frank’s fault, it was his. ‘If you grabbed his collar, he probably thought you were trying to steal him and he’s all on edge today.’
‘He’s a menace.’ The man’s face was a stone wall and didn’t seem anywhere near as attractive as he had at first glance.
‘A menace?’ Stella laughed. ‘Look at him.’ She pointed to the window where Frank was stood, his paws on the sill and his tail sweeping the ground as it wagged, a plump little body wiggling. ‘Oh yes. He’s a real menace.’
Mr Handsome stood taller and pulled his shoulders back. His blue shirt came slightly un-tucked from the top of his trousers to reveal a hint of skin. Stella tried to ignore how flat and sexy the muscled abs it revealed were. She couldn’t deny that he was, annoyingly, very good-looking. ‘I could report that dog.’
‘You could, but then you’d have to show them your injuries, wouldn’t you? And then they’d laugh at you.’ Stella knew she shouldn’t have said it the moment the words flew from her mouth but he was making her pulse race and not in a good way.
Mr Handsome’s eyes flashed down to his hand then back to Frank whose wet nose had left a smear on the window. ‘If he does anything like that again, I’ll report him.’
Stella knew it was a small town – Derek the plumber had proved that – and she had to be friendly to everyone to get the customers in. The last thing she needed today, after everything, was this man going around telling the town she had a vicious dog. As the anger and fear over Frank’s possible demise subsided, and knowing he was safely inside, she decided to be a little more conciliatory for the sake of her reputation. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was just an accident. And I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just been a difficult day so far.’
He didn’t speak but nodded as he considered his response. ‘Fine,’ he said eventually, though it clearly wasn’t, which annoyed Stella even more after trying to be nice. ‘I suppose we should try and get along as we’re neighbours.’
Stella knew her face registered the shock she felt inside. Typical. Of course they’d be neighbours. That would make her new life awkward as well as frightening. She watched a grin spread across his face. Was he enjoying seeing her so uncomfortable? ‘Neighbours?’
‘Yes. I live practically next door. My name’s Miles. Miles Parker.’ He spun on his heel and sauntered off down the street, heading into the café.
Stella’s normally positive attitude was waning fast and her shoulders sagged from tiredness and stress. As she stepped back into the shop, just as she’d done only hours earlier, she realised she hadn’t made herself a happy new life by the sea. She’d made the scariest and most reckless decision of her life and worst of all, there was no going back.
Chapter 4
The next few days passed in a blur of activity for Stella who worked from eight every morning until late into the evening, sorting the stock and repainting the shop. Her only breaks were to take Frank for walks along the seafront, breathing in the fresh air and watching the world go by as she strolled along, daydreaming of what the shop would look like once it was finished. She compared it to the fabulous boutique shops that lined the beachfront with their arty window displays, knowing one day hers would be just as good. When her spirits failed or thoughts of Isaac filled her head and flared the pain in her heart, the sound of the tide ebbing and flowing, keeping its own time, revived her. On the beach she could calm and refocus.
By Saturday morning she was ready to reopen with all the old stock Herbert had left. He’d been in such a hurry to jet off to Málaga and start his retirement, he’d agreed to sell the shop with any stock left in it at the end of his last day. For Stella, this was both good and bad news. It meant she didn’t have to source anything immediately and could open as soon as she wanted, but it also meant some of the weird stuff he’d bought over the years was still sitting there staring at her. As well as the big stone statue of a woman kissing a fish, the papier-mâché buxom ladies and the stone tiles with grumpy men’s faces on, she’d found a pile of very unattractive rugs and badly crocheted cushions. Frank had been quite taken with one that had an angry-looking tortoise on, so Stella had kept it and placed it on the wingback chair, ready for him to take his seat on Saturday morning. The others though, she wasn’t sure what to do with. Big red ‘SALE’ signs had been stuck to the windows so with any luck by the end of her first day, she’d be rid of a lot of the rubbish and could start getting new things.
Opening her eyes on Saturday morni
ng, the feeling of excitement Stella had imagined on all those lonely nights in her smelly one-bedroom flat in Oxford flooded through her. Her chest felt light and adrenalin swamped her body. She jumped out of bed with a huge smile on her face even though it was barely light outside. Seagulls cawed overhead and circled by the bins, hoping for food, but the trees in the churchyard opposite barely moved. When the sun began to rise it flooded the sky with colour. An incredible palette that ranged from warm burnt-orange to the palest creamy-yellow fell across the sky. It was going to be a beautiful windless day. Though Stella didn’t need to be up that early there was no way she could go back to sleep, especially as she was still using the old sofa in the living room as a bed. She hadn’t even started to clean out the bedroom yet. The shop had had to take priority.
Deciding the best way she could start the day was with a long walk on the beach, she pulled her feet out from under Frank who was still fast asleep and snoring loudly, and dressed in her old joggers and a huge paint-splattered sweatshirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and then found Frank’s lead.
It was colder outside than she was expecting as Frank guided her to the beach and she shivered a little in the strong, fresh breeze. All was quiet as the sky turned from deep lilac to pale blue, and clouds drifted above. The salty tang hit her nose. She headed down to the shore and Frank bounded over the pebbles, running back from the waves that splashed at his feet. Stella kept him on his lead, mindful of her run-in with snooty Mr Handsome, or Miles Parker. She had to stop calling him Mr Handsome because every time she did her stomach gave a funny squiggle and she was afraid she might actually say it out loud. Strands of seaweed had washed ashore from the strong winds and waves they’d had the night before and Stella stepped over one, careful to lead Frank away before he could eat it, or worse, roll on it.
