Wish Upon a Star (9 page)

I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself describing in detail Stella’s problems and what the consultant said, just as if I’d known Jago for ever. It felt that way.

‘But surely she could have the operation here, on the NHS?’ he demanded. ‘You shouldn’t have to go abroad for it.’

‘They can do so much these days with surgery, but in Stella’s case, they’d reached the end of the road over here. But Celia and I – that’s my best friend – researched on the internet and found a surgeon who’d pioneered the operation she needed in Boston, but he’s the only one who can help. I got the hospital in London to send him all the X-rays and her notes and stuff, and he’s willing to do it, but of course it’ll cost an absolute
fortune.
’

‘So you sold the flat and moved here? I see …’

‘We thought we’d have longer to raise the money, but Stella was ill back in January and they advised us to move the operation date forward to this autumn, so I put the flat on the market. I’ve put the profit I made into the charitable fund that Celia and her husband, Will, helped me to set up and run, called Stella’s Stars. Donations are coming in all the time, though not big ones – people are so kind, even strangers.’

‘Stella’s Stars? That’s a good name.’

‘She’s my little star,’ I said, feeling better for telling him all about it. ‘Some of the people I know in London have fundraised, but even after selling the flat I’m still around twenty thousand pounds short, even though the surgeon has generously offered to waive his fee for doing the operation. But the operation is booked for the start of November and we need to fly over at the end of October, so I’ll have to find the rest of the money quite quickly somehow.’

I smiled at him ruefully. ‘It looks like we’ve both taken a gamble in moving up here – you and David on the success of your new businesses and me on being able to raise the rest of the money.’

‘Your gamble is much more important than mine … but couldn’t Stella’s father help?’ Jago asked tentatively.

‘Stella’s father is my ex-fiancée that I told you about. He’d left me by the time I found out I was pregnant and he wasn’t remotely interested in being a father when I told him. In fact, he suggested I have an abortion, and when I refused, he cut off all contact with me – changed his email address and everything. He was back in the Antarctic by then, which made him even more uncontactable.’

‘The
Antarctic
?’

‘Yes, he was working out there as a marine biologist. I don’t know where he went after that. He could still be there, for all I know.’

‘He doesn’t sound much of a loss.’

‘No, I think he probably comes under the heading of “lucky escapes”.’

‘That’s pretty much what David said when my fiancée ran off with someone else,’ he said wryly. ‘Sarah works in a Mayfair hair salon so she’d heard lots of gossip about my ex, Aimee, and she was pretty blunt about telling me what she thought of her. Aimee organised events for her rich friends for a living, and she was beautiful, smart, classy and connected – way out of my league, but I did think she loved me …’

They sounded an unlikely combination: a rich social butterfly and a hard-working baker, even if the said baker was the quietly handsome sort that you might pass in the street, but then turn round and go back to have another look at.

He shook off his fit of abstraction. ‘Well, at least the lottery winnings gave me the chance of an exciting new start somewhere where I’ll never come across Aimee again.’

‘Stella had already turned my life upside down before I moved here. I had this idea that babies just slotted into your life, especially if like me you do most of your work at home. But even if she hadn’t been born with so many health problems, everything would have changed once she’d arrived anyway, I can see that now.’

‘Children do have a way of turning lives upside down,’ Jago agreed. ‘But I’m sure you’ve never regretted having her for an instant.’

‘No, my only regret is that she has to suffer the effects of the heart problems – and even if I manage to raise the money for the operation, there’s no guarantee of success … so I worry about that, too: but it’s her only hope of living a normal life.’

I finished off my very excellent sandwich and Jago ordered two madeleines to go with another cup of coffee, which he said was his treat.

‘They do perfect madeleines. I don’t think I’ve tasted such good ones outside Paris.’

‘I used to make them years ago, but had sort of forgotten about them,’ I said, distracted as usual, even if only temporarily, from Stella’s problems. ‘I still have a madeleine baking tray, though …’

‘I’ll send you my recipe for them, if you like?’ he offered. ‘It’s a genuine French one and usually turns out well. I worked for a year in Paris, that’s where I learned how to make the croquembouches.’

When they came, we dunked our madeleines in the coffee, companionably.

‘Madeleines would be a really good thing to feature in one of my articles,’ I mused. ‘I’m trying to stockpile as many as possible, to leave me free for several months later in the year. I’ve been thinking about doing a feature on proper Eccles cakes for “The Cake Diaries”, too.’

‘It must be difficult constantly coming up with ideas when all the Stella stuff is going on?’

‘It is, but I have to keep them coming and bringing in the money – and anyway, I find baking cakes a sort of a comfort … and eating them too.’

‘Yes, so do I,’ Jago agreed.

‘At least yours hasn’t hit your hips,’ I said wryly. ‘I must have put on stones in the last couple of years.’

‘I think I’m just the type who burns it off. And you don’t look overweight to me, but just right.’

I’m sure that was a kind lie, but even so, I warmed to him even more.

‘So, have you had any more ideas for fundraising the rest of the money you need?’ he asked.

‘Nothing major. The Sticklepond vicar visited us the other day and when I told him about Stella he said he was sure the whole village would get together and help me, and he’d think of how best to organise it and get back to me … and you know,’ I added ruefully, ‘I suddenly seem to have gone from being one of the most buttoned-up women in the world, to one who tells everyone her whole life story on first meeting. I’m so sorry to unload on you, when you just wanted a quiet lunch.’

‘I’m glad you did.’ He laid his warm hand momentarily over mine on the table and squeezed it. ‘I
want
to know all about you, because the moment I saw you, I felt as if we’d known each other for ever. We’re obviously on the same wavelength and I hope we’ll become good friends.’

‘I felt much the same,’ I admitted, and our eyes met and held, just like the first time … His wrinkled up around the edges as he smiled.

‘We do have so much in common, don’t we? Broken hearts, a love of cake …’

‘I don’t suppose you also love watching rom com films?’ I asked, laughing.

‘I certainly do!
Love Actually
is my all-time favourite and I’ve put it on so many times that David has hidden the DVD.’

‘That’s my favourite too … or maybe it’s
Pride and Prejudice
.’

‘Or
Mamma Mia!
Oh, and
While You Were Sleeping
.’

‘Yes! In fact, I like anything with Sandra Bullock in, but that is one of her best.’

We discussed rom coms for a few minutes and then I said, ‘Do you think we were separated at birth, or simply knew each other in a previous existence?’

‘I don’t know, but I’ll settle for knowing you in this one.’

‘Me too, and I certainly need a
friend
– especially one who understands that Stella’s needs must come first right now, and that I can’t think beyond getting her to the USA for the operation,’ I said directly and honestly, just in case he
was
thinking about anything in the romantic line. Though actually, given the weight thing and that I’d stopped bothering much with makeup and what I was wearing, I should be so lucky even if he wasn’t clearly still carrying a torch for his beautiful ex.

‘I not only understand that, but I’ll help you,’ he offered. ‘In fact, I’d
give
you the money if I thought you’d take it, but already I know you well enough to be sure you’d turn me down.’

‘Quite right, I would, because that’s the money you need to buy your own premises, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but I could always rent for a while, or get a small mortgage.’

‘No you couldn’t. But thank you for the offer … And don’t try doing it anonymously through the site, because I’ll guess it’s you,’ I warned him, then paused. ‘The vicar said I should trust in God to provide and go ahead and book the tickets and the hotel and everything, so I’m going to take his advice, even if finding the rest of the money does give me sleepless nights.’

‘The vicar was right,’ he said encouragingly. ‘It is a lot of money to raise in a small amount of time, but it’s not impossible, by any means.’

His mobile rang just then and when he finished the call he said it was David sarcastically asking if he planned on going back to the shop that day.

‘I’ll have to go. He and Sarah want to have their lunch too, and the shop’s still busy.’

We exchanged mobile numbers and email addresses, and then I went back with him to the shop to buy a gingerbread pig for Stella, though he refused to charge me for it. I only hope he isn’t as generous to all his customers or he won’t be making much of a profit …

Driving home from Ormskirk, I thought how amazingly easily I’d opened up like that to a man I’d only just met. But then, we had so much in common and he was so sweet and sympathetic that he’d instantly felt like an old friend. We were comfortable together.

I liked his thin, mobile face and the way it reflected every passing emotion, something he probably wasn’t aware of, his unusual light brown eyes and the way his dark hair, released from the pirate scarf, was just a little too long and trying to curl around his ears …

When I got home Ma and Stella were in the garden – Ma sketching and Stella sitting in her blue plastic clam-shell sandpit, carefully arranging a pattern of bits of sand-washed glass that we’d picked up on Southport beach into an intricate pattern. Toto wagged his tail but didn’t get up from under the lavender bush.

The May sun was quite warm, but there was still a bit of a chilly breeze, so I was glad to see that Stella was wearing her little purple corduroy coat. She must have put it on herself, because only one of the big buttons was fastened and it was in the wrong hole.

Ma’s ample derrière rested on her ancient and ingenious fold-up sketching stool, which incorporated an easel in front, and she had obviously been working for some time, for oil pastel and charcoal sketches of Stella littered the grass around her. Toto and Moses featured in some of them, though I don’t think Moses was feeling very co-operative since I could see the tip of his tail from underneath one sheet of paper, where he must have decided to go to sleep.

‘Mummy!’ Stella exclaimed, and Ma looked up.

‘Had a nice time?’ she asked.

‘Yes, and I’m sorry I was a bit longer than I expected,’ I said guiltily. ‘I did the shopping and got the flake white paint and the linseed oil, and I’ve brought you a vanilla slice from Greggs and a gingerbread pig for Stella from the Happy Macaroon.’

‘Lovely …’ Ma said absently, adding a touch or two to the sketch in front of her.

‘I had a sandwich in a café and shared the table with Jago from the Happy Macaroon – remember I told you about him? He makes croquembouches and we’d met before, when I went to Gilligan’s Celebration Cakes where he used to work.’

Now I was closer I could see that Ma’s current sketch was of Stella, who seemed to have sprouted little white feathered cherub wings, as had Toto, and even Moses the cat, and were all three whirling about among a lot of clouds.

Ma finished edging the bottom of the picture with giant foxglove spikes and started to collect her stuff together. ‘Yes … I remember,’ she said vaguely. ‘I expect it was nice to meet an old friend.’

‘Hardly that, because I only saw him that once very briefly in London, but I got to know him a bit today while we were chatting and he’s
such
a nice man.’

Stella looked up and asked, ‘Can I have my gingerbread piggy now, Mummy?’

‘Did you eat the little dinosaur sandwiches I left you for lunch?’

She shook her head. ‘We haven’t had lunch, have we, Grandma?’

‘Haven’t we?’ Ma looked surprised, but when I checked the fridge the sandwiches were untouched under their cling film, as were the two little dishes of chocolate mousse.

I went back outside. ‘Come on in, Stella, and eat a sandwich, and then you can have your gingerbread pig. Ma, do you want your sandwiches out here, or are you coming in?’

‘I’ll be in in a minute. I’ll just take everything back up to the studio and fix the charcoal drawings.’

Stella got out of the sandpit and I closed the lid in case Moses took it into his head that it would make a super cat litter tray, and we went in the house holding hands. Ma wandered off up to the studio and I knew she would forget to come back, so I took her lunch up there after we’d had ours, along with the vanilla slice. There was a steaming mug of tea next to her, so Hal must have been around somewhere.

‘I should have got another cake for Hal, shouldn’t I?’ I said. ‘Does he like vanilla slices?’

‘I don’t know. He likes Nice biscuits, garibaldi, gingernuts and fig rolls, though,’ she said, taking a big bite out of a ham sandwich. ‘I’m ravenous,’ she added, sounding surprised.

‘Well, it’s after two. Stella’s eaten a dinosaur sandwich and she started on the gingerbread pig, but got too sleepy, so she’s gone for a nap. I expect she’ll eat the rest when she wakes up. Her appetite really seems to be picking up since we moved here.’

‘There’s magic in the air in Sticklepond,’ Ma said.

David’s eyebrows had gone up when Jago and Cally walked into the Happy Macaroon together chatting comfortably like old friends, and Jago knew he’d be in for a bit of merciless teasing later, when the shop was quieter.

He was right, too, because David told him he was glad to see his broken heart was on the way to being mended.