Star took her coat off and put it over her face to avoid the smoke. ‘Stop! Star, come back!’ Conor’s voice was urgent. ‘You can’t go in there.’

  But an adrenaline-fuelled Star was only listening to her heart. She suddenly felt Estelle’s presence near to her. At the sight of her mother lying alone, motionless in the snow, six foot from the blaze, she fell to her knees beside her on the freezing ground. ‘Oh Mum, Mum. I’m here. I’m so sorry for what I said. I love you so much.’

  The woman’s face was black, her clothes partly burned off her. Her arms looked sore and raw against the whiteness of the ground. Star began frantically gathering up snow and frenziedly throwing it on to her wounds in an attempt to cool them down.

  ‘Star, you need to move away.’ Conor started to pull her back from her mother. ‘The fireman said if there’s another gas canister in there it could blow at any minute. Think of our baby.’

  ‘You came. My little girl came,’ Estelle Bligh murmured, then fell back unconscious as a paramedic leaped down to the injured woman’s side and called back to his colleague: ‘We’re going to need an air ambulance to get her to Derriford Burns Unit – and pronto.’

  Star kicked her legs in fury as Conor carried her away from danger against her wishes. ‘Let me go! Put me down!’ Looking at him with a face so contorted with anguish that it was almost unrecognisable, she then sobbed, ‘It’s not our baby, Conor. I’m so sorry. I can’t marry you.’

  Chapter 46

  ‘That snow went as quickly as it came, thank goodness,’ Florence Sibley said matter-of-factly as her great-niece appeared at the door to the flat above the former newsagent. ‘I’ve made a chicken pie and mash, your favourite. Sit down by the fire, duck, and get yourself warm – and just look at that bump of yours! What have you got growing in there, a hippopotamus?’

  ‘Hello, hello, hello, hello,’ the blue and yellow budgie trilled, then started flying around his cage, causing seed husks to shower out and onto the plastic table covering below.

  ‘Even Boris is pleased to see you,’ Florrie said comfortably. ‘That’s his happy squawk.’ She sat down opposite the beloved girl.

  ‘Where’s your Christmas tree, then Auntie? You usually religiously get it out two weeks before the big day?’

  ‘I’ve lost track of time with all these goings-on. At least she’s out of intensive care now.’ Flo’s voice was full of relief.

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. They are just the best staff there. And although Mum is out of the ICU they suggested we don’t visit just at the moment as she’s not really well enough to see people. Luckily, she hasn’t got to have any skin grafts and when she does come home, the nurse at the local surgery can dress her arms. What’s more, she didn’t have a mark on her anywhere else, the staff nurse told me. It was lovely to see her on FaceTime. Sober. Auntie Florrie, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her like that. She’s on drugs for the pain, obviously, but it was almost like having my old mum back.’

  ‘Bless you, my love. I shall thank the Good Lord in my prayers tonight. Do you know what happened yet? The night of the fire, I mean.’

  Star let out a huge sigh. ‘Yes. I told her not to use it but she still hadn’t sorted out the timings on her radiators, so insisted on using this second-hand open-bar electric fire. The fire investigator said it looked like she dropped something on it, which started a fire, which in turn set off the gas canister that she keeps underneath the static for when she has a barbecue. Luckily, she was outside when it went up or she would have been killed, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Poor Estelle. We need to think about where she’s going to live when she comes out.’

  ‘It’s not your worry, Auntie. In fact, it won’t be mine either. You know what the community is like up there. They look after each other and the fire has really made them rally round. There’s an old van that’s been sitting there for years. I went up there with Skye yesterday. Mum’s neighbours have aired it and cleaned it top to bottom, a hell of a job that must have been. They’ve had the services reconnected – electricity, water, flushing loo – and have even given it a lick of paint inside. Everything is in working order now, including the heaters. People have donated their spare bits of furniture, cutlery and crockery, and bought some bits from the Pound Shop here in Penrigan. Tell the truth, I reckon they enjoyed themselves, and Mum will be well set up. All they wanted from me was to get a new bed and bedding, and I’ll be glad to do that. So when Mum moves in, everything will be fresh and new. Morvah, who must be at least ninety now, has run up some pretty curtains and Larry, that’s Billy Dillon’s mate, he’s found the exact green paint the other one had and was just finishing off the outside when we were there.’

  ‘That’s God in action – the Christian spirit. How marvellous. But if Estelle does need anything, you both know where I am.’ Florence Sibley looked right at Star. ‘You could do without all this stress in your condition, young lady. You do suddenly look huge though.’

  ‘I know. Probably because I’m due in March.’

  Her great-aunt understood immediately. ‘Oh, Star. The one from America with the girlfriend?’

  ‘Yep. It’s Jack’s.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘I know. And he still has that very same girlfriend in America.’

  ‘So does this Jack know that he is soon to become a father, with a baby boy or girl in Hartmouth?’

  Star sighed. ‘No, and I have no intention of telling him either.’

  ‘Right. And how did Mr Blarney Stone take it?’

  ‘This is the thing. He was just about to propose to me, had it all set up, and then the accident happened at Mum’s, which in a way saved me from having to turn him down there and then. But in the heat of the moment when I had just found Mum and thought she was dying, I came out with it. I had to tell him the truth, that it wasn’t his baby.’

  ‘You always did like a drama.’ Florrie shook her head. ‘The poor man.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that. I feel bad enough already.’

  ‘And how did he take it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was in such a state when Mum was carried off in the air ambulance that I rang Kara to come and get me and Conor went back in the van with Billy. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.’

  ‘He liked you then.’

  ‘Yes, it seems he did.’

  ‘Your uncle used to say to some of the youngsters in our church who were struggling with love that time decides who you meet in your life, your heart decides who you want in your life and your behaviour decides who stays in your life.’ She looked at her great-niece. ‘Do you still want him in your life, Steren? Conor, I mean?’

  ‘With behaviour like mine, I don’t think that question is for me to answer.’

  ‘And why not tell Jack? I don’t understand, duck. Doesn’t he have a right to know?’

  ‘It’s a bit like it was with Conor: I don’t want to force someone to be with me just because a baby is on the way. I want to be with someone for love. As I told you, he came here for a weekend, and gave no indication that he liked me. Mind you, I did tell him that I was pregnant with another man’s child. What a fool I’ve been. Oh, Auntie, how can one human being make so many mistakes in one life!’

  ‘You’re getting dramatic again, and it’s not good for you. I’ll go and dish up our dinner.’ Florrie waited a few minutes until Star was tucking into the lovely hot food, hungrily clearing her plate. Then she asked gently, ‘Did you not tell him how you felt when you saw him, my love?’

  ‘No, because he dismissed what happened between us … now let me remember his words … as “the best one-day stand” he’d ever had.’

  ‘Well, it’s better than being the worst,’ Florrie said, forking some pie into her mouth.

  ‘Auntie! That’s not funny.’

  The old lady swallowed and had a drink of water. ‘It is a little bit. Oh, Star, good communication is the difference between a relationship working or not, but sadly between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love can get lost. It’s tragic really.’

  ‘If only I had your sense.’

  ‘I’ve had years of practice.’ Florence Sibley stood up and put her hand on her great-niece’s shoulder. ‘Now let’s have some of my jam roly-poly and custard, shall we? We need it in this weather.’

  ‘Amen!’ Boris the budgie shouted from his cage.

  Chapter 47

  Charlie Dillon was in full swing on the family stall at the Saturday market. ‘Order your Christmas veg in now, ladies,’ he shouted out to the queue that was forming. ‘No need to travel to Belgium, madam, the finest Brussels sprouts are here, go well with your turkey stuffing.’ He gave a cheeky wink when he said the word ‘stuffing’. ‘And don’t miss out on our very own five-star Savoy cabbage – the very same those chefs use at the Savoy Hotel in London, don’t you know.’ The queue was entertained as usual.

  Darren tore down the back stairs on his way to the ferry quay.

  ‘Dad,’ he acknowledged tentatively as he walked by the laden stall. An expressionless Charlie just cocked his head at his son and carried on serving his customer. A strained-looking Pat Dillon put a fake phone to her ear and mouthed at the young man, ‘Call you later.’

  ‘All right, Kara?’ Charlie shouted across to her when he had a breathing space. She was busy arranging her Christmas wreaths at the base of her stall. ‘Did you hear that Tasty Pasties is up for sale? Never thought I’d see the day when Philip Gilmour would hang up his pink apron and let someone else have a go. Rumour has it he’s found a new fella and is running off into the sunset with his pasty fortune. Each to their own, I guess.’

  Kara took in this comment and gulped. She had minded her own business about his falling out with Daz, mainly to keep the peace as much as possible with the rest of the Dillon family, but it seemed somehow strange that he could talk openly about another gay man, but not be accepting of his own son’s sexuality. She calmed herself. ‘You interested then?’ she quipped.

  ‘Nah, he’s not my type, darlin’.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ Kara made a funny face at the bald middle-aged man. ‘I meant about the shop!’

  Beside her, working at her own stall, Star was putting the finishing touches to her display. Despite all the drama, she had still managed to get her Christmas collection together, the various bespoke pieces gleaming beneath the sparkling lights she had positioned all around them. She had given up on messaging Conor, who had chosen to ignore her for days. She hadn’t seen him once going backwards and forwards to work down at the ferry and there had been no sign of him in Frank’s. She was saddened that he really was being so adamant in his avoidance of her. She missed him. He had become such a big part of her life and now, with no contact at all, her days felt empty again. Especially now with the worry of her mother still being in hospital.

  ‘You all right, Mum?’ Skye called from the Passion Flowers stall next to hers. ‘Kara has asked me to pop down to Frank’s to get coffees and bacon rolls. Do you want anything?’

  ‘Ooh. I’d love one of his warm bacon and cheese croissants, please. Here, let me give you some money.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, I’ll get it. Coffee too?’

  ‘A decaf please, plenty of milk.’

  It had been such a relief when her daughter took the revelation of her father’s identity in such an adult way. Star had spared no punches with the story, had told her exactly how it was and who he was. And that she had heard on the grapevine that the man in question had gone to live in Australia with his family around ten years ago. ‘I couldn’t bear you feeling like I do now, not having any clue at all who my father was,’ she had told her daughter, adding that if Skye were to contact him, whilst respecting his existing family, then that was her choice, but she needed to be prepared for rejection if she did so. The wise seventeen year old had just held her mum’s hand and told her how sorry she was that her father had been such a bastard, and how lucky she was to have Star as the best single parent a daughter could ask for. She had also been completely cool about her mum having a baby, was very excited, in fact, at the thought of a tiny brother or sister. And when Star told her that the child was Jack’s, Skye hadn’t batted an eyelid. Had said that she thought Conor was great, but that whatever happened, her mum should follow her heart. It had made Star burst with pride that she had brought up such a balanced and thoughtful individual.

  Star turned her heater up under her stall and put both hands on her bump. She had stared at the image on the screen during the scan and couldn’t quite believe, despite what the midwife had told her previously, how far along the pregnancy was. When asked if she wanted to know the sex, she had declined, same as with Skye. She preferred the element of surprise and the lack of preconceptions in her mind of what her hoped-for little boy would be like. She and her baby would meet each other in March for the first time properly. A feeling of warmth engulfed her at the thought. A new little bundle of joy to love and cherish and one she had wished for, albeit not in quite these circumstances.

  Just having the scan in itself had been sobering. With Skye, her mum Estelle had been involved all along the way. She hadn’t seemed quite such a drunk then, or maybe she was and at sixteen years old it hadn’t been so obvious to Star. Estelle had been moved back to Penrigan Hospital now and was hopefully going to be allowed back home in a few days. Star would call her at lunchtime to see how she was getting on and ask when would be a good time to visit.

  Kara’s Christmas wreaths were flying off the stand. ‘Great idea to make all those up in advance,’ Star called over to her.

  ‘I know,’ Kara replied. ‘At this rate I’m going to have to ask Skye to do some more when she comes back from Frank’s. How are you feeling today?’

  ‘Good, thanks. Cold as usual.’

  ‘Shit, I forgot to give you this! I’m so sorry. Billy gave it to me last night.’ Kara handed her mate an orange envelope. ‘It’s from Conor.’

  Inside was a card with a dolphin on the front and the words: I’ve been an eejit the past few days, sorry. Let’s talk. Pop up after the market. I’ll be home by five.

  ‘Well?’ Kara was on tenterhooks.

  Star put her hand to her heart. ‘I’m going to see him later.’

  ‘Good. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Jack?’

  ‘Why would I? He thinks I’m pregnant with another man’s child. Not exactly a catch in his eyes.’

  ‘I think you should tell him.’

  ‘No! I told you, I don’t want a pity plea from any man, and he actually said out loud that he was a changed man and must get back to Riley. What a mess!’ Star thought sadly back to her auntie’s wise words: Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love can get lost.

  How true were those words and how common in relationships. It was ironic really that the one person you shared all your deepest darkest secrets with, not forgetting bodily fluids, was generally the person you communicated with the worst. And then, after many angry words that you didn’t mean, you would split up, and the person you had once been so close to became a stranger. There must be a graveyard in the sky full of misunderstandings, regretted words, and lost romantic hopes and promises.

  But it was Star’s fear of complete abandonment that had been the narrative of her life. She had lived it avoiding the crossfire of emotion; not saying how she felt, because sometimes just believing that she wasn’t good enough for someone to want her was easier to accept than the fear of somebody actually telling her that she wasn’t.

  Chapter 48

  Conor opened the door to his flat with the smile that had so captivated her from the start of their relationship. ‘Madam.’ Taking Star’s coat, he led her to the kitchen where he had laid the table for two. A candle was burning in the middle.

  ‘I know it’s early for food, but I’m starving,’ he told her. ‘I’ve just done jacket potatoes with a choice of fillings so you can pick and choose what you want when you’re ready. Now, how about a glass of wine – oh shite, what am I saying!’ Conor laughed nervously. Star was enamoured by this side of him she had not seen before. ‘Fizzy water OK?’

  ‘Stop fussing,’ she said. ‘Water’s great and jacket potatoes even better. I’m eating even more like a horse now.’

  ‘You feel OK? Feck, this is awkward.’

  ‘It is, but let’s try not to make it that way.’ Star sat down. ‘I’m just so sorry.’

  ‘So am I.’ Conor breathed deeply, before taking a massive slug of beer from the bottle he was holding.

  ‘I can’t believe you were going to propose,’ Star said.

  ‘Nor can I.’ Conor then relaxed and laughed. ‘Thank God I’d just got you a cheap ring, eh? I was going to get you to choose what you wanted, that was the plan.’

  Star looked across and took in the handsome face of the tall Irishman sitting opposite her. His kind brown eyes and mad curly hair. His sexy dimple and lopsided smile. ‘You’re an amazing man, Conor Brady, and I’ve had the best fun with you. You brought me back to life.’

  ‘That’ll be all that Irish sausage I fed you.’

  Star gasped then started laughing out loud. ‘You are so wrong.’

  ‘You love it, so you do. And you do have a beautiful arse.’

  ‘Great sex, I can’t deny you that one, and I do really like you, you know that.’

  ‘And me you. I am so very fond of you, but if we are honest with ourselves, we were never going to get as far as walking down the aisle. At least, I don’t think so.’

  Star started loading her potato with butter and grated cheddar. ‘I reckon there must be couples like us everywhere. It’s kind of friends with benefits who stay together but that massive rush of passion is not there, that deep, connected love.’

  ‘Don’t be going all philosophical on me, it took me all I had to ask you around for a jacket spud. So,’ Conor went on, ‘do you – or more importantly, do I – know who the father is? I honestly didn’t think you would see someone behind my back. I thought I was giving you the best ride of our lives and we were hardly out of each other’s sight.’