She came round an hour ago and spoke to us, Stella was told at the nurses’ station. The motherly nurse smiled at her when she sank onto a chair, weak with relief.
‘Not out of the woods yet, love, but it’s hopeful,’ she said. ‘She’s sleeping but you can go and sit with her.’
Alice lay as still as she had yesterday but her cheeks were a healthier colour, Stella thought, as she switched her phone to silent. She took her grandmother’s hand and held it to her face for a moment.
The cake tin wouldn’t fit in the bedside locker so had to sit on top – its picture of Edinburgh Castle a reminder of one of the happiest days of her life.
She and Ross had been showing visiting friends around the city and as they were all admiring the view from the castle wall he had suddenly taken her arm and walked her out of earshot.
‘I love you,’ he’d whispered in her ear.
‘I did suspect that,’ she answered, teasingly. ‘What brought this on now?’
‘I couldn’t wait another minute to tell you. I suspect you feel the same but I’d be glad if you confirmed it.’
‘I can confirm it.’ She kissed him back as proof of the statement, to calls of ‘You two, get a room’ from their friends.
Now, on the cake tin lid, she traced her finger down to where she thought they had been standing that day.
The nurse came in with a jug of water. ‘Sorry, dear. We can’t have the locker-top cluttered up. I’m afraid you’ll have to take the tin away.’
Stella looked inside, at the small hunk of fruitcake wrapped in greaseproof paper. Feeling guilty she put it in the bin.
‘Is it all right to have this?’ She took out the frame. ‘I thought it would be nice for my granny to see when she wakes up.’
‘Lovely idea. Let’s have a look. Is that you?’
‘And my sister,’ Stella said.
The photo showed Alice with Stella and Maddie when they were about five and two, so it must have been taken very soon after their parents’ accident, when they went to live with her in Melrose. They were sitting on the sand somewhere, somewhere windy as Alice’s hair blew around her face. The girls wore sunhats.
‘Lovely,’ the nurse said again. ‘Well, I’ll leave you alone now.’
Who took the photo? Stella wondered. Gray probably. She must ask him. She turned the frame over. The back was quite flimsy and it was easy to slip the picture out.
‘Coldingham Sands’ was written in Alice’s sloping and beautifully clear script. Stella couldn’t recall the occasion even with that clue but then it was more than twenty years ago. Maddie had no recollection at all of those early days with Alice. Perhaps it was as well that Stella herself could only remember fragments from the time when their lives had altered so drastically.
Asking where Mummy and Daddy were. Finally understanding that they wouldn’t be coming back. She only had hazy memories of their parents now – but were they real memories or inspired by the photograph album Alice showed them? She didn’t know.
Funny little memories of those early days. The smell of Alice’s Pear’s Soap. Running up and down the back corridor. Being alarmed by Alice’s dog, Patch’s predecessor – he loomed up at them like a big black monster until they realised what a softy he was. Alice telling her that her name meant star-of-the-sea. Years later she told Ross that, and ‘Star’ became his pet name for her.
Stella leaned over the woman who had brought them up, who’d made a happy life for them, and stroked her hair, still silvery fair. ‘Thank you for taking care of us,’ she whispered.
Since she moved to London she’d started to realise how much her granny’s life had changed with the death of her only son and his wife, when the little granddaughters, staying with her while their parents were on holiday, had to remain with her. Widowed – her husband had been fifteen years older than her – she might have married again, or travelled to see the world’s best art galleries, or had a major exhibition of her own work, or … but what was the point of speculating?
The hospital nightie she was wearing was clean but threadbare – oh no! Too late Stella remembered the holdall on the back seat of Ross’s car with Alice’s own clothes in it. She could ask Gray to bring it up – he’d definitely be coming to see Alice when she was allowed more visitors, but who knew when that would be? She’d have to do some shopping.
Delving into her bag again she took out the books she’d chosen from the bookshelf at Hill View: The Thirty-Nine Steps and Little Women. She’d anticipated reading them aloud to an unconscious Alice in the hope that a familiar voice would get through, but happily that wasn’t necessary now. So instead she opened the first page of John Buchan’s famous novel and got quietly immersed in it herself. The minute she read the first line, ‘I returned from the City about three o’clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life’, it took her back to the first time Alice had read the book to Maddie and herself. Alice was wonderful at reading aloud and when she told them that the author once lived not very far from Melrose, that made the book all the more special.
A couple of hours later Alice was still asleep.
The nurse she’d seen earlier popped her head round the door and beckoned her to come out.
‘He said he didn’t want to disturb you but I thought you’d want to see him,’ she said, giving Stella a complicit smile.
‘Who?’
Ross stood by the nurses’ station, the tartan holdall in his hand. He held it out at arm’s length as if to avoid any contact with her. ‘Found this when I was loading up the car at Costit.’
‘It was good of you to bring it.’ Stella kept her eyes on the bag as she took it from him.
‘How’s Alice?’ he asked.
‘She’s regained consciousness. She’s sleeping now – I haven’t spoken to her.’ Now she had to look at him. ‘But she has come round, that’s the main thing. Please tell Gray for me – and could you possibly let Lilias know? I don’t know if she can hear the phone. She’s never answered it when I’ve called.’
He nodded his acknowledgement at the good news about Alice. ‘Excellent. I’ll tell them.’
She couldn’t help continuing to keep her eyes on him, as if she were memorising him. Who knew when she would see him again? That little dip, not quite a dimple, in his cheek when he smiled. A hint of dark stubble on his chin – he mustn’t have had time to shave this morning. His height; she was five foot seven in her heels and was only just as high as his shoulder. How could she have thought that going out with Nathan would make her forget him? Nathan – at this moment she could hardly recall anything about him.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Without any further ado Ross was away – no doubt anxious to put distance between them. She watched him go, until he turned at the end of the corridor and disappeared.
The nurse reappeared. ‘Oh, he’s gone.’ Her mouth turned down at the corners. Perhaps she’d been hoping to witness a romantic scene. ‘Your boyfriend? Who’s a lucky girl!’
‘No, he’s … he just gave me a lift. Can I stay a bit longer with my granny?’
‘’Course you can, love. And when she wakes, if you’re not here, we’ll tell her you’ve been. And you ring us any time. Grannies are special, aren’t they – I’m one myself!’
Her understanding and friendliness were warming.
Back in Alice’s room she was mortified to see that the nighties she’d grabbed in such haste were hardly in any better condition that the hospital-issued one, and the slippers were an ancient furry pair, half-chewed by Patch in his younger days. Highly dangerous for someone who was going to be unsteady on her feet for the next few months. She put them in the bin, along with the nighties. But even when it was empty the holdall couldn’t stretch to accommodate the Edinburgh Castle tin. Great. She was going to look like a bag lady on the bus.
She waited another hour, until her stomach growled, reminding her it was now some time since her breakfast toast. Kissing Alice, she tiptoed out of the room.
Down in the lobby she checked her phone. A text message and a missed call.
Nathan. Stella-Bella hope all good with you, call me?
But what would she say? She moved on to the voicemail. Pete’s PA. Stella, hi, it’s Jane. Pete’s asked me to say he’ll ring you later but no worries. His exact words! Hope your granny’s getting better. Bye.
No worries. She couldn’t help smiling. In her head she could hear Pete booming his favourite expression.
But if only she had ‘no worries’. Since that phone call from Lilias the night before last it felt as if all her worries had come at once.
‘So, how was it?’ Bette helped Ross tidy away dry goods into the storeroom at the back of the restaurant.
‘How was what?’ Ross knew he was fruitlessly playing for time with the question. Of course his mother wasn’t asking him about the traffic or the cash-and-carry.
‘How was Stella?’
Yup. That was what he’d been expecting to hear. ‘How did you know I’d seen her?’
‘Gav came into the shop. Asked if that was really Stella he saw with you this morning. How was it?’ his mother asked again.
‘Fine. No big deal.’
‘Did you meet her at Hill View? Did you have a good talk?’
‘She came in just as I’d got the range going. We talked. About nothing very much. And we stopped at Carfraemill for coffee.’ He might as well confess that now – no doubt Bette would hear about it on the bush telegraph before the day was over.
He’d regretted what he said about paying for the coffee the minute the words were out of his mouth and he saw Stella’s stricken expression. So much for playing it cool.
And he’d have to tell Bette about returning the bag to Stella in the hospital – in fact he should have told her right away that Alice had regained consciousness.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Bette said when he’d finished confessing. ‘I’ll ring your grandfather.’
Left alone, Ross thought back to sitting with Stella in the café. For a moment he’d almost forgotten how it was between them, almost got sucked into the useless game of ‘do you remember?’
No. Concentrating on what was ahead, not behind him, was what he had to do now.
He should try to look on today in a positive way. Closure – wasn’t that the way to put it? Perhaps he should try internet dating – he had a friend who met a lovely woman that way. And before her, several other lovely women. Or maybe he should think about pursuing a relationship with Skye. She was pretty and good fun. He’d called to see Maddie one evening in September to go through her accounts and found that she’d forgotten their arrangement and was away at a craft trade fair. Skye offered him a drink and he ended up spending the night with her – ‘no strings’ she’d said and that suited him just fine.
If Isabel was aware he’d stayed – she’d come in late and he left very early – she gave no sign of it.
But he wasn’t sure if Skye really meant ‘no strings’, which was why he was apprehensive about her coming down here for two nights. He didn’t seem to be able to figure girls out any more, the way he could before he and Stella were together. Seemed to have lost the knack of recognising signals, of decoding words that said one thing but meant something else.
Skye could sleep in the flat upstairs and he’d go home to Gray’s. He didn’t want to be the subject of gossip – the downside of living in a small community – as had happened after Stella left. The shop had never been so busy than in the first few days after; he was sure people came in just to see how he was taking it.
Anyway, this was the way it would be from now on – if he’d ever, deep deep down, harboured any hope of reconciliation with Stella, it was gone now. The future was Ross Drummond running the family business here in Melrose, and Stella Greenlaw making deals in the City of London, with nearly four hundred miles between them. All their shared past gone, like yesterday’s rainbow.
And other things were going to change. He had plans to open up part of the deli as somewhere people could sit, well, four people anyway. Café was too grand a word for it, but Gav’s sister would make fresh scones every morning and learn how to work a machine that made several varieties of coffee for people to drink there or take away, and they’d put tables on the pavement when the weather was fine.
At home it would be all change too, with his father coming back to Scotland for good and his parents living together in a house of their own for the first time in many years.
‘Ross?’ Bette was waving her hand in front of his face. ‘Hello? Anyone there?’
‘Sorry, Mum. Right. Let’s get the rest of the stuff put away and then I must go and see Tom.’
‘Everything sorted for when he’s away?’
‘Hope so. Tom’s are big shoes to fill.’
People came from far and wide to try Tom’s cooking and, as he’d said, they were fully booked tonight and tomorrow. But of course he couldn’t miss his niece’s wedding.
Perhaps it was the reminder of the reason for Tom’s absence that brought Bette back to her earlier topic of conversation. Clearly she was not going to give up. ‘You should get Stella to eat in the restaurant sometime.’
‘Mum. That’s not going to happen. Please can you drop the subject?’
‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s just … oh, well, the world is full of what-might-have-beens. And it is almost Christmas.’
‘What’s that got to do with it? Life isn’t a film. This story won’t have a soppy ending with everyone wearing Santa hats.’ Stella loved romantic comedies, especially Christmas ones, and he’d loved her enough to sit through them. Santa hats featured rather a lot, he seemed to remember.
Bette rolled her eyes at him. ‘Your grandpa’s over the moon about Alice. I’ll go and see Lilias now in case she hasn’t heard from Stella.’
Ross grinned at her. ‘Whatever you do, say no if she offers you herbal tea.’
Bette opened the door then turned back. ‘I’ve decided to cancel the party.’
‘Cancel it! What will the neighbours do on Christmas Eve? They’ll have to roam the streets of Melrose trying to find somebody else to entertain them.’
His mother made a face at his teasing, hovering half in and half out of the shop. ‘Postpone it, I should say. It wouldn’t be the same without Alice – and to think of her in hospital while we’re having fun. If she’s home we’ll have it on Hogmanay instead.’
Maybe she’d forgotten that Alice wasn’t at last year’s Christmas Eve party either although of course for a different reason, spending Christmas in Edinburgh with Stella and Maddie. He’d put in a token appearance himself and then gone for a pint or two with Gav.
When Bette had gone he went upstairs to the flat. He needed to start getting it ready while he had some spare time, for Skye’s visit tomorrow. What a mess everything was, including this flat, his home for the last thirteen months – the watery afternoon sun showed up the marks on the white woodchip wallpaper here in the sitting room. The whole place hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint for at least thirty years.
Bette had wanted to give the place a complete makeover before he moved in but he couldn’t see the point. If it had been for Stella and himself, that would have been quite different. They’d put in a modern kitchen and bathroom, choose colours, he’d ask Gav to help him rewire the place … soft moody lighting … a new double bed … But Stella had never set foot in the place.
He should do something about it though, he thought, casting a critical eye round. He’d replaced the fridge when it expired a few months ago but otherwise everything was what had been left by the previous owner, was dated and shabby and hadn’t been of good quality to start with. He hadn’t told his mother and grandfather yet but he’d decided that when Bette left he’d move back to Priorsford Road to keep Gray company – and to save him from an unwanted housekeeper. He could rent this place out – maybe Tom would want it, save him travelling forty miles there and back every day from his home in the countryside south of Melrose.
The bedroom walls were covered in faded flowery paper and the carpet had seen better days a very long time ago but there was nothing he could do about these things right now. He opened the window to let in some air and fetched fresh bed linen to put beside the bed, ready for tomorrow. How amazing would it be if he were making up the bed for Stella and himself?
And like a wave it came over him, that Christmas Eve three years ago. His mother’s annual party. The house full of friends and neighbours. Stella wearing a red dress and earrings like fluffy snowballs. The old-friend kiss under the mistletoe turning into something that took them both by surprise. Slipping away from the party, both of them equally astonished at this change in their relationship. So familiar with each other yet it was as if they had met some new, wonderful person.
The first night they’d spent together. That first morning, and the joy of seeing Stella lying beside him, watching her wake up.
He juggled his first job after his business studies degree and his increasing rugby commitments to meet her in Edinburgh or Melrose. They tried new restaurants, sometimes on their own, sometimes in a crowd. Went to the cinema – although they rarely liked the same film. Had blissful evenings in. Walked in the Border hills.
Then there was the day in early spring, when they’d taken visiting friends out to lunch. Afterwards they’d walked up the Royal Mile onto the ramparts of Edinburgh Castle to show the visitors the view over the city. For the whole of the meal he’d been aware of Stella on the other side of the table, talking and laughing, and as he joined in all he could think was that he loved her. He couldn’t wait until they were alone so he put his arms around her up there by the castle wall, oblivious to the proximity of their friends and a few dozen tourists, and whispered the words into her ear. And she said she loved him too.
Later, on their own, they talked about the future. Not mentioning their eventual marriage as such but there it was, unspoken in both their minds. He was sure of that then and was sure of it now. So why … If he lived to be a hundred he’d never figure it out.
Stella walked along Abbeyhill Road, wondering what revelations would be in store for her when Pete phoned. He’d said ‘no worries’ which meant he’d sorted out whatever the problem had been. But she didn’t want him to step in, take the whole thing over. Not now. One of the men she was dealing with at InsideOut had been difficult at the start – old-school, prejudiced because she was young and because she was a woman, but she’d won him round. It was her hand on the tiller and she wanted to keep it that way.
She let herself into the flat. All was quiet.
It felt very odd, getting undressed in Maddie’s room, taking down the old blue woolly dressing gown from the back of the door and putting it on. She tied her hair back. A shower would be wonderful. She had been too tired last night and in too much of a rush this morning.
She was in the hall, wondering if there were towels in one of the cupboards, when the front door opened.
‘Maddie!’ It was Skye’s surprised voice.
Stella turned round. ‘It’s Stella. I’ve borrowed Maddie’s dressing gown. Would it be okay if I had a shower? Is there a towel I could use?’
‘Here.’ Skye opened the door of what proved to be an airing cupboard with a pile of towels on top of the tank. ‘You gave me a start! I didn’t realise how alike you and Maddie are, although you’re taller. She wears that dressing gown a lot.’
Stella rubbed the sleeve. ‘It’s all pilled. She’s had it since she was about fourteen.’
‘She calls it her comfort blanket. How’s your granny?’
‘She’s come round but she’s not out of the woods yet.’
‘So you’ll be staying on here?’ Skye asked.
‘I guess so. Is it a problem? Staying here, I mean?’
‘You’re welcome. But I’ll be at my mum’s for Christmas and Isabel’s going to her parents. Won’t you be lonely?’
Wasn’t that the title of a song? ‘Lonely this Christmas’. Very melodramatic and self-pitying. She refused to be seen like that. ‘It will be odd, I suppose. A different kind of Christmas!’ She tried to sound upbeat. ‘The important thing is that I’ll be near Alice.’
‘Isabel will be here tonight and tomorrow night but I’m going down to Melrose tomorrow.’
‘Yes, you said.’ Stella hoped she didn’t sound as squeaky to Skye as she did to herself.
‘Did you see Ross last night? Did he tell you about it?’
Tell her what?
‘Um.’ Stella nodded several times in what she felt was a maniacal fashion. ‘Good. I’ll have my shower now. Thanks for the towel.’
In the bathroom she lifted her chin, closed her eyes, and let the water run over her face – rather a pathetic trickle compared to the rush produced by the power shower in the flat in London.
So that was it then. Ross and Skye. Of course he hadn’t told her. Why should he? It was absolutely none of her business. He’d moved on.
She should try and do the same.
Back in Maddie’s bedroom Stella emptied her suitcase, shaking out her clothes and laying them over the chair. She hadn’t, she realised, brought very suitable things with her – work dresses and smart trouser suits and heels were what she’d lived in since going down to London. So she had brought nothing casual and comfortable to wear with her, only the clothes of a girl who’d been almost all work and no play for the last fifteen months.
It was out of the question to borrow Maddie’s long skirts – not Stella’s style at all. Besides, she and her sister were a different size and shape. Maybe she should buy herself some new casual clothes – but that would be extravagant. She had lots of stuff – jeans, jumpers, boots – back home in Melrose. She should have thought to retrieve them yesterday.
She resisted the temptation to wrap herself in Maddie’s old dressing gown, her comfort blanket, and picked out a pair of grey wool trousers and a long-sleeved plum-coloured shirt. Rather than put on the heels again she remembered that there was a pair of sandals in the wardrobe, not exactly seasonal and slightly too big, but she was only going to be walking across the hall for now.
In the kitchen she sat on the sofa and tucked her feet under her. She picked the top magazine from a pile on the floor and flicked through the pages of food articles and recipes. Did it belong to Skye? She rummaged until she found a magazine of more general interest. Of course the travel section would have to have an article on Australia. She flung it back on the floor.
She rubbed her feet. They were cold in the flimsy sandals so she went to see if Maddie had any socks. Her phone was lying on the bed and she saw that she’d missed a call.
‘Stella, it’s Gray. Have you heard from Maddie? Don’t worry, she’s absolutely fine. I’ve had an email, don’t recognise the address. Hi Gray and everybody,’ Gray read out, ‘I’m really here Down Under! Tried ringing Alice but she must be gadding about! Exclamation mark. Charlie and his family are brilliant!! Two exclamation marks this time. Please can you tell Alice he was overjoyed to hear all about her. I love Coolharbour, it’s really cool! Exclamation mark. I’ll keep trying to phone A.’ Gray cleared his throat. ‘Has she told Stella about Charlie yet? I’m dying to talk to her about him. Lots of love, Maddie.
Hope that sets your mind at rest, lassie,’ Gray finished with.
What? Stella had been hoping for some clarification of why Maddie had gone to Australia. Was this it? Was Charlie the relative Ross and Skye had vaguely heard about? Or did hearing his name beg more questions than answers? She was about to call Gray back when Isabel phoned.
‘I was wondering what your plans were for the evening, Stella? What were you going to eat? The cupboards are bare but I can do some shopping before I come home. Then I’m going out – staff Christmas do.’
‘Oh, no, don’t, please, you’ve been so great already, Isabel. I’m going to the hospital. I’ll pick something up to eat when I get back.’ She sat down on the bed. ‘Isabel, Maddie’s emailed Gray. She says she’s having a good time with someone called Charlie. Do you know who he is?’
‘Sort of. I really don’t know very much and it’s not my family but it doesn’t seem fair that you’re completely in the dark. I’ll tell you what I can when I see you, shall I?’
At last maybe there was the possibility of some sort of explanation.
Another call. Pete this time.
‘Pete, what’s going on?’
‘There’s nothing to worry about, Stella.’ Her boss’s voice was his professional one. ‘Your man was playing silly beggars, that’s all, refusing to talk to Nathan. I told him you would be back on the case as soon as possible and that Nathan was the go-to until then. The three of us have had a Skype call, which went well – thanks to your excellent groundwork. Nothing will happen now until after Christmas, probably not until January.’
Pete never played games with his staff. If that’s what he said the situation was, Stella believed him. And he wasn’t cutting her out; despite her current absence he trusted her to see it through.
His voice changed, became more personal. ‘And how are things up there in Bonnie Scotland?’
‘My grandmother’s come round but she’s still very woozy and she has a broken ankle.’
‘She’ll be all the better for seeing you. Anything I can do, make sure you tell me?’
‘Thanks,’ Stella said gratefully. She was about to say goodbye when a thought struck her. ‘Pete, have you heard of somewhere in Australia, maybe near Sydney, called Coolharbour?’
‘Yeah, small town to the south,’ Pete said. ‘Sort of artists’ colony I believe. You know, all craft shops and veggie cafés.’
Stella laughed. It must be the same place – Maddie’s idea of heaven.
‘Why do you want to know? Thinking of emigrating?’
‘My sister’s gone there but I don’t know why and of course I can’t ask my granny yet. It’s all a bit of a mystery.’
‘I can probably find someone who knows someone from Coolharbour if you want some detective work done.’
‘I might take you up on that,’ said Stella. ‘Bye, Pete.’
‘Oh, hang on. Have you spoken to young Nathan? He’s been as cheerful as a wet weekend in Wagga Wagga since he found out you’d gone home. Put him out of his misery, will you?’
Stella laughed at his British/Australian mash-up. ‘I will do,’ she promised. She knew it wasn’t something she could put off any longer so as soon as Pete had hung up she steeled herself to make the call.
‘Stella-Bella!’ She could hear Nathan pushing his chair back. Now he was on the move, probably going to stand where she had on Monday, away from the ears of colleagues. ‘How’s it going up there?’
She told him briefly about Alice.
‘That’s the pits,’ he said. ‘Poor old you. Wish I was nearer, could give you a hug.’
‘Thanks, Nat.’ Life would be much better if she genuinely wished that too. ‘Pete’s filled me in on what happened yesterday.’
‘He was a tricky one, that InsideOut guy. “I will deal only with Miss Greenlaw”,’ Nathan mimicked. ‘I found myself outside his door before I’d said two words. However, we’ve pacified him. He’ll stay in his cage until the wonderful Miss Greenlaw returns.’
Stella laughed. ‘His bark is worse than his bite when you know him better. Listen, take care, Nathan, have a good Christmas – well, I know you will, with your friends in that lovely house you showed me.’
‘I’m sorry you won’t be there. We’ll get together soon, yeah?’
‘I’m not sure yet when I’ll be back. I’ll let you know.’
There was a pause. ‘Do that. Keep in touch, Stella-Bella.’
Some caffeine was urgently needed. A gin and tonic would be even better, if she’d had some to hand. Just as well she hadn’t; she needed to keep a clear head. So coffee it was and some mindless late-afternoon television before it was time to leave for the Infirmary.