Hold On to Me (11 page)

When her father was sent to jail, a spotlight was finally shone on the chaos at home. When her mother, consumed with addiction and grief and chaos and her own demons, tried to kill herself with an overdose of paracetamol (it was cheap and readily available), Stella was removed from her care.

Stella didn't even see her mother in hospital. She was picked up from school by a social worker and delivered into the temporary care of a foster family. They were kind. Old and slightly religious, but Stella didn't mind that. She had a bed with fresh sheets and their house was clean and tidy and she re-imagined the experience for herself as a little holiday. And although this was temporary—her father was in jail and her mother was god knew where—she quickly felt herself relax. She never went back to that school and never saw the prettiest girl in her class ever again.

Social services cast a wide net and it only took two weeks for them to find her mother's aunt, Karen. She'd been living in a caravan in Queensland, and as soon as she heard about Stella, she hitched it to her car and drove all the way down to Adelaide, swooping in, picking her up, and creating a new life for both of them in Middle Point.

Auntie Karen was wonderful and alternative but knew the importance of rules to a child who'd had none, and with that kind of care Stella thrived. She pretended her parents were dead and started again. She went to the local primary school and had a perfect attendance record. Karen bought her new clothes, new to Stella anyway, and she thought she'd died and gone to heaven when her auntie took her to the shoe shop—the shoe shop!—to buy a new pair of runners. Stella couldn't get over how white the laces were, or how springy the sneakers felt to walk in: like stepping on clouds.

Just one simple pair of shoes. One simple pair of shoes that looked like every other kid's shoes.

Auntie Karen loved her; Stella never doubted it. From the first time they met, when the older woman with the long grey plait halfway down her back held her and whispered, ‘You're going to live with me now, sweetheart,' Stella knew she would be safe. Karen smelt like cigarettes. She was soft and a little cuddly and wore kaftans and very sensible sandals. She'd embraced the 1970s and had never really let go. She'd never married, didn't have any children and hated animals. Living with Karen, even though it was in the caravan park, was like exhaling after ten years of holding her breath. Finally, Stella had a place to call home.

Years later, she was told that her mother hadn't ever wanted to take her back, even when she had recovered from her suicide attempt. The last information Stella had from her social workers was that her mother had gone to Darwin and had married someone else. Stella's father was killed over a drug debt a few years after getting out of jail. When Stella found out, she couldn't make herself care. That life felt like so long ago; so easy to forget now she was safe with Auntie Karen. She was loved. Little Stella Ryan was finally happy.

Mouse jumped on the table and sniffed her dinner plate.

‘I'd better feed you, hadn't I?'

Once that was done, Stella went to bed, feeling exhausted and empty. In the darkness, in the contemplative time between awake and asleep, she tried to picture their faces. Her mother and father. She drew a blank. She couldn't remember them anymore.

* * *

There was only one place to be on a Wednesday night in Middle Point and that was at the pub. When Luca pushed open the heavy wooden front doors, he moved through the small front-bar crowd and quickly ordered a beer.

He didn't plan on eating out every night while he was staying at Anna and Joe's place, but he didn't feel like sitting at home alone thinking about Stella.

‘Hey, Luca,' Lizzie Blake called at him from across the room. She was sitting at a table with her husband, Dan McSwaine. He picked up his beer and happily joined them. He'd grown to know them a little, given that Lizzie's brother was, every way but legally, his brother-in-law. Did that make Lizzie his sister-in-law? Not officially.

‘Hi, you two.' He kissed Lizzie on the cheek and shook hands with Dan.

‘Pull up a pew,' Dan said. ‘Stella called and told me you're doing the work on her shop. How's it all going?' He sipped his beer and looked at Luca with a knowing smile.

‘Yeah, good. Why are you looking at me like that?'

Dan chuckled. ‘Glad she chose you and not us to do the work. I know what she's like. Picky. Stubborn. Bossy.'

‘Oh, that's hilarious,' Lizzie said as she smacked Dan on the shoulder. ‘If she were a bloke you'd say she was determined and had a fine eye for detail.'

‘Oh no,' Luca said with a wink at Dan. ‘She's picky and stubborn all right.'

‘Don't tell me you're butting heads with her already?'

Luca sipped his beer and looked out the windows to the ocean. The place sat right atop the best spot in Middle Point and Luca could see house lights shimmering and flickering along the coastline. He needed a moment to think about what he was doing with Stella Ryan. Were they butting heads? He didn't know what the hell was going on. But it was something more than disagreements about glaziers or skylights and accounts.

‘The Boss and I have a very good working relationship,' he said.

‘Very discreet,' Lizzie said with a smile.

‘“The Boss”, huh?' Dan nudged his wife. ‘I remember what happened around here the last time a woman pulled the strings on a renovation.'

‘And what was that?' Luca looked from Lizzie to Dan.

‘We're what happened,' she said. ‘Dan and I worked together on The Market project out the back. You should come on Sunday morning. It's fantastic. We have stalls and we make breakfast and there's amazing coffee.'

‘Sounds great but I'll be back in Adelaide for the weekends. I'm only staying at Anna and Joe's during the week. I've just bought a house and I'm trying to renovate that too. Or at least I was until I started Stella's job.'

‘Really? That's amazing,' Lizzie said. ‘At your age.'

His age? That again? What was it with these women?

‘You've got a lot going on,' Dan said. ‘Are you planning to do your house all yourself?'

‘As much as I can. I'm moving in this weekend and then I'll get stuck into it when I'm finished with Stella.'

When I'm finished with Stella.
The words hit him and he didn't like how they made him feel.

‘I used to commute too, but I've got news for you, mate. There's something about this place. Once it gets its hooks into you, you can't leave. You'll never want to leave.'

‘It's true,' Lizzie added with a grin. ‘Hey, are you here to eat, Luca? We're about to order.'

‘Yeah.' Luca upended his beer. ‘What's good?'

While Lizzie and Dan made their choices, Luca thought about his life in the city. Everything was falling into place for him there, with his business and his new home. His life was definitely somewhere else. This favour he was doing for Anna? It was a one-off.

There was no way anything at the beach would get any hooks into him or make him want to stay.

There were too many boxes to count stacked in Stella's living room; so many that she could hear Summer's voice but couldn't see her friend.

‘I'm down here next to the box marked
Jewellery
. I feel like I'm in a maze. Quick, send water and chocolate.' When Summer stood up, Stella could see her gleaming blue eyes above the cardboard Berlin Wall.

‘I can't believe all this,' Stella said. ‘It just keeps arriving. I'm going to have stock for the entire holiday season. I have a wild feeling this could be my best summer yet, in spite of what's happened.'

Summer rounded a cardboard pile. ‘Yay for you. Now, sit down and listen to this.' She grabbed Stella's hand and dragged her to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair and pressed her shoulders so she sat. ‘I have a plan,' she announced.

‘You? A plan?' Stella made a joke of looking around the room. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my friend?'

‘I know, I know.' Summer waved the comment away with a knowing smile. ‘Where you have the business brain, I'm more the spontaneous, go with the flow, never have a cent in the bank kind of gal, it's true. But I was in bed last night, all alone I might add, and I had a brilliant idea.' She pulled up a chair opposite Stella. ‘Your shop is super popular, right?'

‘Yes, and I say that with absolutely no false pride whatsoever.'

‘And I could do with some more paying customers. I'm so sick of fielding calls from leering blokes who don't quite understand what “sports massage” means and are looking for a happy ending at the beach, if you know what I mean.'

Stella's shoulders shook with laughter.

‘So, hear me out. While Style by Stella is being recreated, do you want to set up in my waiting room? It's a big old house and the front room is huge, with plenty of space for a rack of clothes and a table. You could choose your own hours, depending on what the delicious Luca is up to at the shop. What do you say?'

Stella had to think it over herself. Luca and his offsider were building the skylight and Gyprocking the walls of the shop for now, so there wasn't much she could do until the painting stage. Her mind whirred. She could contact Joe Blake at the
Gazette
and give him an update on the story, mentioning that with the support of other businesses, she was still trading. Updates to her social media sites with the news might draw some attention and she could place a sign on her brand-spanking-new window to steer customers in the right direction. Summer's idea was a good one. Her massage studio was right in the centre of town, with a tidy and trim front garden. Its spacious waiting room was airy and light, with limewashed walls and unpolished floorboards. The old wooden school chairs in the waiting room were distinctive, and the driftwood and magazines on a dilapidated sideboard looked stylish. It was perfect.

‘I think it's a brilliant idea. But are you really sure, Summer?'

‘I'm totally sure. It's a you-scratch-my-back-and-I'll-scratch-yours kind of deal, right? Your customers might come and suddenly feel like a massage. And to be completely honest, I'd love to have you around to chat to during the day. Talking to clients is most unsatisfying. Most of the time they mumble into the massage table or fall asleep.'

Stella held a hand across the table. ‘I can't wait. Thank you.'

Summer pushed back her chair and rounded the table to hug Stella. ‘It's the least I can do. I wouldn't have a business without you. Who taught me about MYOB?'

‘I did.'

‘And Business Activity Statements and GST?'

Stella held up a hand. ‘That was me too.'

‘It's karma, Stella. What goes around comes around. Especially in a small place like this.'

Stella laughed. She didn't believe in karma but Summer knew that already. ‘What shall we unpack first?'

It was lunchtime the next day by the time Stella and Summer had chosen a small selection of stock to take to Summer's massage studio. They'd found an old folding table in Stella's garage and she'd draped it with a piece of silk dyed an ombre of deep orange and pink. She chose small things: earrings, necklaces, small purses and some locally made gift cards. She'd laid them out in a beautiful display and felt a tingle of excitement at the thought that she was well on the way to kicking adversity's arse.

Summer was with a client so Stella was holding the fort, rather like a receptionist/fashionista. The front door opened. Perhaps this would be her first paying customer. When she recognised Julia Jones, she let out a loud laugh.

Her friend shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why am I not surprised to see this? How are you, doll?' Julia gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. ‘I'm so sorry about what's happened and that I haven't seen you. Mary and I have been up in Adelaide. Tell me about what's going on here!'

Stella realised how good it was to see her old friend. ‘While Style by Stella is having an emergency facelift, I'm here flogging my wares.'

‘That's fantastic, and so inspired.' Julia leant in close. ‘I drove past and saw you already have a new window and a front door. You're moving fast.' Then she lowered her voice even though they were alone in the waiting area. ‘How's that all going, with the brother?'

Stella tried to ignore the real intent of Julia's question. ‘It's going fast. Just how I like it. And until I can open again, Summer offered me this space so I could at least do some business.'

Julia sighed. ‘Summer is a genius. Especially with those hands. Breastfeeding has given me a stiff neck and nothing works but her magical fingers.'

‘I agree completely. What would we do without her?'

Julia glanced down at the display, cocked her head to the side. ‘Seeing all this gives me an idea too. Are you free on Sunday morning? I think I might be able to swing you a stall at The Market at the Middle Point pub.'

‘Would that have anything to do with the fact that you are married to the publican?'

Julia winked. ‘It also helps when the manager is your best friend. Are you interested? I'm sure Lizzie would love to have you. I know you can't usually get there because you've got your own shop, but we get hundreds of people turning up there for breakfast and the charity stalls do some amazing fundraising. You know we'd love to have you.'

Before she could blink, Stella was blurting out a happy, ‘Yes!'

‘Give Lizzie a call. We'll make sure we reserve you the best location.'

Summer emerged from the hallway with her client, ushering him to the counter.

Julia dropped her voice while Summer settled up his account. ‘So the building work's going well?'

‘Uh huh.'

‘That Luca is …' Julia shook her head and mimed a whistle.