Wish Upon a Star (35 page)

‘Not for me, it wasn’t. I’d much rather you kept out of our lives.’

‘But I want to see you – and my daughter. Stella, is it?’

‘It is,’ I said drily.

‘Come on, Cally,’ he coaxed. ‘I know I behaved very badly, but I’ve matured over the last few years and I’m ready to play a part in your lives.’

‘Not in mine, you’re not: you don’t get two bites at
this
cherry,’ I told him straight.

‘But don’t you see, Cally: I loved you all along, it was just that I met you at the wrong time in my life, when I wasn’t ready to start a family.’

‘I understood the second part of that all right.’

‘I’m only surprised it took me so long to realise what I’d thrown away,’ he continued, seemingly oblivious to my unresponsiveness. ‘I must have been snow-blind not to see it before, but I’ve turned my life around. I’ve got a permanent job, a new flat and I’m ready to settle down.’

‘I’m so pleased for you,’ I said. ‘Better late than never, I suppose.’

‘I assume you haven’t found anyone else, or you wouldn’t have moved back in with your mother?’

‘You assume too much,’ I said tightly.

‘Aimee did say you were friendly with her fiancé.’

‘Yes, I thought Aimee must be the little bird who’d been tweeting in your ear,’ I said. ‘And Jago is her
ex
-fiancé.’

‘That’s not what she says.’

‘She’s wrong: Jago’s moved on. In fact, he and I are now
more
than friends.’ The words simply slipped out, I really hadn’t meant to say that!

There was a pause. ‘Look, please let me come and see you and we can talk everything through. What have you told Stella about me?’

‘She thinks you live at the North Pole, counting penguins, and you can only come home when you’ve finished.’

‘But – there aren’t any penguins at the North Pole,’ he said blankly.

‘I know: it’s one of those never-ending mythical tasks.’

‘Perhaps you’d better tell her I’ve finished counting them, then,’ he suggested.

‘I’d rather you didn’t meet at all, when we both know playing daddy will just be another short-lived fad until the novelty wears off.’

‘You’re wrong, and anyway, you can’t deny me the right to see her.’

‘Actually, I think you forfeited those rights when you dumped me before she was even born,’ I said coldly.

‘I think I probably could apply for visiting rights, but I really don’t want to do that. Come on, Cally,’ he wheedled, softening his tone. ‘If she finds out when she’s older that I wanted to meet her but you prevented it, what will she think?’

That gave me pause and I was quiet for a few moments, weighing up what he’d said, which pretty much tallied with what Celia thought. I didn’t ever want to see him again, but would I be doing the right thing if I prevented Stella from meeting her father?

‘I suppose I’ll have to let you meet her at some point, but—’

‘Great!’ he broke in, before I could explain that I thought any meeting should be delayed until after Stella had recovered from her operation.

‘The sooner the better. Is there anywhere to stay locally?’

‘Well, there’s the Green Man but—’

‘I’ll come this weekend.’

‘That’s not possible,’ I said quickly. ‘We’ve got things planned.’

‘The one after, then,’ he said impatiently, then added, ‘How’s your mother? Weird as ever?’

‘My mother is not weird,’ I said icily. ‘She always said you were a total waste of space, and I should have listened to her.’

‘See you soon,’ he said obliviously, and put the phone down.

How do I loathe thee
?
Let me count the ways
…

I was in such a state of turmoil after Adam’s call that it was just as well Celia rang me only a few minutes later so I could pour it all out to her.

‘I didn’t want him to come here, but he steamrollered right over me before I could explain why that wouldn’t be a good idea just now for Stella,’ I said. ‘I don’t suppose he’s got over his phobia of illness and hospitals, for a start, so when he realises the seriousness of her condition he’ll probably run a mile.’

‘But if he does, then it’s probably going to be all for the best, so long as it doesn’t upset Stella,’ Celia pointed out.

‘He’d better not upset her,’ I said fiercely. ‘But the other thing that freaked me out was the way he kept saying he’d missed me and he’d got a job in London and was ready to settle down, as if he’d just remembered he had a ready-made family he could pick up whenever he wanted one!’

‘That
is
a bit odd,’ she admitted. ‘Absence probably made the heart grow fonder when he was stuck out in some icy wasteland and he realised what he’d thrown away.’

‘If he’s been cherishing a rosy dream of how I used to look, then he’s going to get a bit of a shock when he sees me, isn’t he?’ I grinned. ‘I’m a couple of stone heavier, for a start.’

‘Only a little bit, and the extra weight suits you.’

‘It’s more than a little, Celia: I’d certainly be the last survivor in any famine. Unless the others ate me, of course,’ I added. ‘And apart from that, I’m not exactly the polished girl-about-town that he was engaged to. That’ll shatter his illusions!’

‘You look like a mum and a country girl now – glowing with health, in fact, so he might prefer the new version.’

‘I don’t think so – heaven forbid!’ I paused. ‘I told him me and Jago were in a relationship.’

‘You are?’ she demanded excitedly.

‘No, no, of course we’re not,’ I said hastily, ‘I just said it on the spur of the moment to put him off. Jago and I are only friends, nothing complicated: that’s all we want.’

‘Right …’ she said doubtfully. ‘Oh, well, it doesn’t sound as if you can stop Adam turning up and I suppose he was right, in that you can’t deny Stella a chance to meet him.’

‘Even if he’s so horrified by her health that he vanishes again?’

‘Oh, I expect he’d still keep in touch, if only to send her a Christmas card or something.’

‘Whoopee-do,’ I said sourly.

‘You’ll have to prepare Stella before he comes, won’t you?’

‘I know, and I’m not looking forward to it … but I’m not going to worry about it till after the fundraising auction; that’s way too important.’

Since Stella was still sound asleep I impulsively rang Jago and told him everything, too. Or
almost
everything. He seemed to think Celia was right and Adam should have a chance to make amends.

When Ma came in and heard the news, she said at first she wouldn’t have Adam in the house, but I persuaded her that it would be better to let him meet Stella here, on home ground.

Ma was babysitting on the night of the auction and Hal was fetching in a fish-and-chip supper for the three of them, though what Stella would make of mushy peas was anyone’s guess.

When Jago and I arrived at the hall it looked like the whole village, plus lots of people I didn’t recognise, were crammed in there. Celia and Will had come over and were saving us seats.

There were printed lists of the lots on each chair, though Hebe had helpfully sent round an advance one, so Stella’s Stars had a good idea what was coming up. Various lots were ranged on a table at the side of the room and printed cards with the promises were propped up, some with photographs.

We all stopped chatting and turned to the stage when the curtain was drawn back with a swoosh. Raffy appeared, reminded us of the purpose of the auction, and then left our auctioneer for the evening, Mr Yatton, to start the bidding on the first lot.

‘Right, we’ll begin with the food lots and two amazing cakes,’ he said. ‘Now, most of you will have seen the photograph of lot one, Cally Weston’s amazing Swedish celebration cake, and this is your opportunity to have one specially made for any celebration – birthday, anniversary … whatever you like.’

The bidding was surprisingly brisk and won by Zoë, the girl I knew from the playgroup. She waved triumphantly at me over the crowd.

Next was Jago’s croquembouche – there was a big photo in case the assembled throng didn’t know what that was, either. It was successfully bid for by the young couple sitting right behind us, who said they wanted it for their wedding.

Mr Yatton called us to order and carried on. There was a food hamper supplied by the Middlemoss Christmas Pudding Circle, who Mr Yatton said made Christmas hampers up for the senior citizens in their parish.

‘It’s an idea we could maybe adopt here, too,’ Raffy called out. ‘I hadn’t thought of it before.’

‘We can discuss it on another occasion,’ Hebe Winter said regally from her chair at the front and Mr Yatton carried on to the next lot, which was a large box of macaroons from David and Sarah.

‘You are all being so kind,’ I whispered to Jago. ‘You and David have already done enough, just selling the gingerbread stars.’

‘We want to help,’ he said. ‘Oh, look, we’re on to the main lots now and here’s your mother’s painting!’

Raffy bought it. I’m not sure if he liked it, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He also bid for Ottie’s sketch, but there was a brisk bidding war between two determined strangers and one of them secured it for a thousand pounds. I think we were all stunned: I mean, she’s quite a famous sculptor, but this was just a little scribble of an idea in pencil.

‘Ottie will be delighted,’ Hebe said, before Laurence led the bidding on the rest of the lots.

I made the final one on a tea-leaf reading with Zillah Smith, though actually, I’d only intended to push my hair behind my ears. I didn’t really mind, though I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about having a reading done. Could she really tell my fortune in tea leaves? And even if she could, did I want to know what the future held?

Hebe Winter paid a ridiculous amount for a reading by the reluctant Shakespearian actor, Ivo Hawksley, who looked resigned to his fate.

‘I would like you to perform a reading from Shakespeare up at the hall on August Bank Holiday,’ Miss Winter told him triumphantly.

‘All right,’ he said, ‘I suspected as much when I put myself up for this.’

‘He was a leading Shakespearian actor,’ I whispered to Jago, ‘but he’s retired now and just writes his bestselling crime novels as Christopher Marlow.’

‘I know, I remembered you’d said so and I bought one from Marked Pages,’ Jago whispered back. ‘The owner – Felix, is it? – reminded me about the fundraising event he’s holding in early September, when you and some of the other local writers will be signing your books.’

‘Yes – it’ll be Ivo’s wife, Tansy, with her
Slipper Monkeys
books, Gregory Lyon’s supernatural novels, Seth Greenwood’s gardening book …’

‘And your
Round the World in Eighty Cakes
and the first volume of
The Cake Diaries
,’ he finished.

I nodded. ‘The proofs of the second volume should arrive any minute …’

Then my attention was distracted as Raffy got knocked down at a good price to a couple who wanted him to come and sing their special song at their ruby wedding anniversary.

‘What
is
your special song?’ he asked.

‘“Love me Tender”,’ they chorused back, and he looked relieved: I suppose it could have been
anything
.

There was a short break for refreshments after the promises, before the rest of the lots came up, which ranged from a brass coalscuttle to one of those hideously uncomfortable stools made out of a leather camel saddle.

Zoë, who’d won my cake, explained that it was for her sister, who had had a premature baby. It had been touch and go but now that the baby was home and thriving they were going to have a big christening in the church and they wanted a pink prinsesstårta as the christening cake. I thought that was lovely and promised the prettiest cake ever.

Fortified by tea and seed cake, Mr Yatton galloped along with the bidding on the last lots.

‘Lot Forty-two, donated by Florrie Snowball: a charm to ward off evil. Hold it up, Effie,’ he ordered his sister, and she held aloft a murky green glass bottle full of indistinct objects. ‘Every home should have one placed above the door,’ he added.

‘That’s right,’ Florrie agreed, piping up from nearby. She’s so diminutive, I hadn’t even realised she was there. ‘House or shop.’

‘I’ve noticed quite a few local shops do have one of those over the door,’ I whispered to Jago, and then when he didn’t answer I looked at him to discover he was bidding by waving his brochure in the air.

He won it, too. ‘Just what I need when I open Honey’s,’ he said, then seeing my surprised expression, added that Mrs Snowball had told him about it over his breakfast bap, so it hadn’t been an impulse bid, he’d
meant
to get it.

At the end there was more tea, coffee and cake, and before we left Raffy announced that with tonight’s takings, he expected we would already have exceeded the ten thousand pounds we’d originally set out to raise.

There was a round of applause.

‘It’s just as well, because I think two times that is more realistic and anyway, a little leeway is a good thing,’ Raffy observed when the noise had died down again. ‘There are always unforeseen expenses and since Jenny Snowball, who as you know is a qualified nurse, is accompanying them, it’s only right that we pay her air fare.’

‘Not at all,’ said Jenny, who was clutching an outsize green furry dragon. ‘I’d be going to Boston anyway, to visit our Kevin and the family, so I wish you’d let me pay for my own ticket.’

‘Even so,’ Raffy said. ‘Then Stella will have to convalesce afterwards for some time until she’s fit to fly home, won’t she, Cally?’

‘Yes. But if there’s any cash left over when we get back, I’m sure you’ll be able to find another worthy cause for it.’

I was still stunned by how much everyone had raised so quickly and when I tried to add a few heartfelt words of thanks to everyone, I choked up. Jago put his arm around me and gave me a hug.

‘I think we all know what Cally’s trying to say,’ Raffy said. ‘Keep up the good work, everyone!’ he added, and then declared the evening over.

Zillah Smith tapped me on the back as we were leaving and gave me her business card: ‘Your future in my hands’ it said, ‘Zillah Smith: tarot or tea leaves’.