Page 117 of For Love or Money
‘Ah, we’ve all been there. I won’t judge you.’
‘Okay, it’s Babygirl star two hyphen zero.’
‘Star as in asterisk?’
‘Yes. All lower case, except for the B in Babygirl.’
‘Ah, star for Stella? Very clever.’ Lesley tapped it into her screen. ‘Okay, I’m in! And we’ll say no more about it. Anyway, at least it’s not your birthday. Thatwouldbe embarrassing. Plus I’d have to lecture you about it with my IT hat on. Now, do you want that last piece of coconut cake?’
Stella shook her head. ‘It’s all yours.’
Lesley knewthat people tended to be very lazy about two things online – passwords and usernames. Stella may not have used her birthday, but Lesley could have cheered when she heard the password. It sounded like something with personal meaning, the kind of password people clung on to over years. She’d bet her bottom dollar that she’d frequently used it or some variation of it as a login or handle.
When she got home that afternoon, she made herself a mug of coffee and sat down at her laptop, settling in for a long session hunting for Stella’s internet trail. She typed Babygirl into the search engine, along with variations – using wildcards, or replacing the asterisk with the word ‘star’ or ‘Stella’. Then she dug in and began trawling through the results. There were pages and pages of baby clothes, and most of the hits could be dismissed at a glance. She knew it was a long shot, and she wasn’t really expecting to find anything, but there was the odd Twitter or Facebook profile, and she checked them all out. None seemed connected to Stella.
Then, deep into the tenth page of results, there were several links to a website devoted to make-up and beauty. Clicking on the first link brought her to a forum and someone using the name Babygirlstar commenting on the best green concealers for covering up redness. Another couple of links led to similar discussions on the same site, on topics as diverse as tips for keeping hair from going frizzy in humid climates (she made a note to come back to that one) and the best moisturisers for acne-prone skin. The threads were all from about five years ago. Babygirlstar seemed to be a regular contributor and someone other members looked up to as something of an expert – which Stella was.
The next link was to a thread on an area of the site devoted to general chat, where someone had posted a question about the etiquette of attending an ex’s wedding, and various members were chipping in with their advice and opinions. There was nothing particularly revealing in Babygirlstar’s comments, but it gave Lesley hope that there’d be more. She typed Babygirlstar into the site’s search bar and brought up every discussion she’d contributed to – and there were a lot.
She started with the general discussions as they seemed more likely to reveal personal details, and began reading through them. She felt a spark of excitement when Babygirlstar (who she was already thinking of as Stella) mentioned in passing that she had started out working in hairdressing.
She felt like she was closing in on her target as she read Babygirl’s comments on everything from difficult neighbours and weight loss to the best restaurants in LA and the perfect passive-aggressive wedding gift for your deadliest frienemy. Babygirl had a dry sense of humour, but didn’t reveal much in the way of personal information. Still, Lesley started to piece together a sketchy profile from the few snippets she dropped. She’d never been married, didn’t have much trouble controlling her weight, knew LA and London well, preferred coffee to tea and had no tattoos. Then she clicked on a thread headed ‘My Crazy Ex-Boyfriend’ started by someone going by the name of BirdofParadise. ‘Birdy’ as the other members called her, had just got engaged, but was being stalked by her abusive ex – a narcissistic asshole, if Lesley had ever heard of one, who had spent years manipulating and gaslighting her. She’d been to the police, but they hadn’t been much use, and she didn’t know what to do.
The make-up community were incredibly supportive, showering her with congratulations before weighing in with sympathy and suggestions. A lot of them shared stories about their own experiences with exes who couldn’t let go, and Lesley got absorbed in the stories from regular contributors. She was starting to feel like she knew some of them at this stage. Then she scrolled to Babygirl’s comment, and she started to hope it wasn’t Stella after all as she told them about her own abusive ex – his violent rage when she’d broken up with him, his outrage that she’d had the audacity to leave him.
And then she saw two words that caused her stomach to lurch. Two words that could explain everything: Stella’s reserve, her need for privacy, even her name change.
39
‘As you can see, the garden is exceptionally large, and comprises an extra living space in itself,’ the estate agent said, opening the French doors off the kitchen/diner and leading Rafe and Stella out onto a large deck. ‘The current owners are keen gardeners, and it’s been lovingly maintained. This space is perfect for outdoor entertaining,’ she continued, sweeping an arm around the deck. A long table with six chairs was laid with a colourful runner, wine glasses and an ice bucket set on top. ‘Or the perfect spot for enjoying a glass of wine in the evening.’
‘Looks great,’ Rafe said, glancing around appreciatively. Stella could tell he was already visualising family barbecues or quiet sundowners on the deck.
‘Yes, but it’s north-facing, isn’t it?’ Stella said.
‘Oh?’ Rafe frowned down at the brochure in his hands. ‘I thought Hilary said it was south-facing?’
‘I think it’s thefrontgarden that’s south-facing, isn’t it, Hilary?’ Stella asked.
‘Um ... yes, that’s right,’ Hilary said tightly.
‘Oh, so it wouldn’t get any sun at all?’ Rafe frowned.
‘No, not a spot,’ Stella said briskly.
‘Well, let me show you upstairs,’ Hilary said, gamely keeping her smile pinned on as she led them back through the French doors into the house.
Stella glanced at her watch. ‘I think we’ve seen enough.’ She looked questioningly at Rafe, who nodded. ‘There’s no point in wasting your time,’ she said to Hilary, smiling to soften the blunt statement.
‘Oh, well ... if you’re sure.’
‘Do you have anything else to show us?’ Stella asked.
‘Well ...’ Hilary rooted in her briefcase. ‘I’ve a very nice property right in the village,’ she said, pulling out a brochure. ‘It needs a little work, but that’s reflected in the price, of course,’ she said as she handed it to Stella.
‘Grade II listed,’ Stella read.
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ Rafe said, looking over her shoulder.
