Wish Upon a Star. Trisha Ashley

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Wish Upon a Star - Trisha  Ashley

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      ‘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.

       Jago

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