Page 11 of Finding Love in Micklewick Bay

‘More importantly, where’s the wine?’ Jasmine pulled a “seriously?” face.

‘Oh, blast!’ Stella bumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. ‘I forgot it. Sorry, lasses.’

‘No worries, we can ask Immy to fetch one when she brings the gravy and mushy peas.’ Lark smiled at her. ‘She’ll be happy to do that.’

‘Aye, good thinking.’ Lark’s suggestion seemed to appease Jasmine.

‘So, in answer to your questions,’ Stella placed her napkin on her lap, ‘all was going swimmingly, and we were having a goodold flirt, until…’ She left a loaded pause, picking up her knife and fork.

‘Until what?’ asked Florrie.

‘Until his girlfriend arrived.’ Stella glanced around the table. ‘Oh, and his gorgeous Labrador’s called Fred, by the way,’ she said matter-of-factly, hoping her friends didn’t detect the disappointment that was, for some strange reason, clawing at her insides. It was annoyingly distracting.

‘You’re kidding?’ Jasmine said, her face falling. ‘He’s seriously got a girlfriend? I mean, we all saw the way he was looking at you, didn’t we, lasses?’

‘Yeah, he looked like he was really into you, Stells.’ Lark gave her a sympathetic look while the others responded with a series of nods and words of agreement.

Stella was relieved to hear it wasn’t just her who’d got the body language so spectacularly wrong.

‘Looks like you had a lucky escape there, flower. Thank goodness you found out before things went any further.’ Florrie gave her a small smile.

‘I wouldn’t care but I can usually sniff out a cheating rat a mile off. My radar must be off-kilter with all this heat.’ Stella gave a hollow laugh before tucking into her fish and chips, doing all she could to push Alex Bainbridge out of her mind. But it was proving difficult. His behaviour had got her stirred up. Stella already had issues with commitment thanks to her father walking out before she was born. As a teenager it had played on her mind relentlessly, his actions piercing her heart, though she’d never admit to it. He couldn’t have expressed his lack of interest in her any more explicitly if he’d tried. The result of which had been that Stella had built a wall around her heart, it growing more impenetrable with every passing year. This, combined with her mother’s attitude to relationships, meant Stella had never let a man get within reach of her heart.

One man had got closer than most, but as soon as she had felt the first stirrings of something that went beyond friendship or lust, Stella had backed off, warning sirens sounding loudly in her head. There was no way she was going to make the same mistake her mum had, and expose herself to hurt and heartache. Ben, a fellow barrister, had been devastated, telling her he’d fallen in love with her, but his words had only strengthened her resolve and she’d exercised greater caution since.

‘Right then,’ said Lark, pulling Stella back to the present, ‘I think we’re just about caught up with all our news except for our Maggie here. How’s things going with the very fabulous Micklewick Bear Company?’

‘I still feel like I’m dreaming actually.’ A wide smile lit up Maggie’s face. ‘As you know, the logo for Campion’s has been finalised as have the designs for their signature teddy bear. I’m also just about caught up with my orders thanks to Jean’s help; she’s amazing I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

Maggie created handmade bears out of reclaimed luxury wool and had recently been approached by Campion’s of York – a once luxury store that was undergoing a renaissance under its new mystery owner. Their flagship store was now based in the quaint market town of Middleton-le-Moors, and Maggie had been approached by their head buyer with a proposal to make a range of signature teddy bears as well as designing a new company logo. She’d been initially torn about whether she could accept such an offer with a baby on the way, but a well-loved local lady by the name of Jean Davenport had stepped in with an offer of help. Long-since retired, Jean had been a close friend of old Mr and Mrs Harte of The Happy Hartes Bookshop and, as a consequence, had become a good friend of Florrie’s, helping out at the bookshop’s readings and book club. It turned out she was also a proficient seamstress and now worked for Maggie on a part-time basis.

‘Wow! Sounds like things are really taking shape for you, Mags.’ Stella smiled at her, pleased to see her friend seemed to have put her accident behind her.

‘And Jean’s loving working with you,’ said Florrie. ‘She called in this morning, full of chatter about it.’

Maggie smiled. ‘That’s so good to hear.’

The evening passed in a bubble of banter and laughter as it always did with Stella and her exuberant group of friends of a Friday evening. Alex Bainbridge had only sneaked into her mind a couple of times but she’d refused to dwell on what might have been. She’d been relieved to see him leave the pub with his girlfriend a good hour earlier, allowing her to relax.

Before they knew it, Mandy was ringing the old ship’s bell that hung above the bar, calling for last orders.

‘Blimey, is that the time already,’ Lark said, draining her glass.

‘Time seems to run away with itself when we get together,’ said Jasmine.

Their drinks finished, Maggie fished into her bag for the Land Rover keys. ‘Right, lasses, who wants to try out Bear’s new Landie and have a lift home?’

All but Lark, who lived no more than two strides away in Seashell Cottage along Smugglers Row, and Stella, who said she wanted to clear her head, accepted the offer.

‘Much as I’d love to have a whizz around in it, I’ll decline for now, thanks, Mags,’ Stella said. She regularly walked home alone, the streets of Micklewick Bay being safe to do so.

Standing outside the Jolly, darkness had descended and a clear sky splashed out above, the pub lights stretched out,illuminating the garden area. The gentle hush of the tide inching towards the sea wall was punctuated by the cries of a solitary seagull.

Lark pulled Stella into a hug, setting her bangles jingling as they slid down her arms. ‘Good luck for Sunday, Stells. I’m sure it’ll go well, Rhys must be nice if your mum likes him.’

‘I reckon Lark’s right,’ said Maggie, the others all agreeing.

‘Thanks, you lot.’ Stella was grateful for their support. She’d texted her friends earlier in the week and shared the news about her mum’s invitation to meet the new man in her life. They’d all replied with a slew of positive texts and calls, no one being judgemental or issuing warnings. Their responses had gone some to easing the doubts that had lurked in her mind.

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