In a Heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) (2 page)

Stella’s voice shook and she paused to collect herself. “There’s a good chance I might end up on the donor list.”

Stella bit her lips and gave her mum an opportunity to say something, even though none of that information was new to either of them. When Helen didn’t speak, Stella continued:

“Right now I feel better than I’ve felt in months. I know the damn thing is gone, at least for the moment. Despite that, I can’t make any plans for the future: not yet. I need to go somewhere where nobody knows me, where I can relax and maybe even forget about all this for a while.”

She gestured around her and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Shit, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry
.

“Somewhere I can meet people who don’t think of me as the girl who has lost her father and her brother and who now has cancer. I want to have fun, even if it’s just for a couple of months.”

At some point Helen had started crying as well, making Stella feel incredibly bad. They both knew everything she had said was true, but upsetting her mother was like stabbing her own chest with a kitchen knife.

“OK,” said Helen and even managed a smile as she squeezed her daughter’s hand.

“OK? That’s it? After that speech?” They both laughed through their tears as Stella embraced her mum in a long hug.

“Everything you said is true, honey,” her mum began as they separated. “And I think it’s a really good idea. I know you’ve wanted to go for a long time, but didn’t ask because you thought I’d get upset.” Stella opened her mouth to protest, but Helen raised her palm to cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it. You’ve been mad at Niki almost as much as I have. What she did wasn’t fair – not only to me, but to you and Lisa. I know you wanted to forgive her and visit Lisa, but you felt as though you’d betray me somehow.”

How did she know exactly how I felt?
Stella thought and her eyes must have reflected her question, because Helen continued:

“I always know how you feel, sweetheart. You’re so strong and so responsible. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know if I could have ...”

“Don’t, Mum – please. Don’t go there.” Helen closed her eyes to get a grip of herself before she spoke,

“You have to forgive Niki. I have; a long time ago. That was her way of dealing with her tragedy, just as staying in my house and rebuilding my life for both of us was my way.”

“Why haven’t you talked to her, then?”

“I don’t know. I’m not ready yet, I guess. And I don’t know where her head’s at. I’m afraid of reaching up to her and getting shot down. I’m afraid that I’m a very painful reminder of her past, and maybe she doesn’t want to be reminded at all.”

Stella nodded, completely understanding where Helen was coming from. It was a huge relief to find out her mum had forgiven Niki; holding a grudge against someone was a huge burden and Helen didn’t need any extra weight pressing on her heart right now.

“Anyway, about your trip: I think it’s a wonderful idea. As long as Niki’s on board with it, of course. You have to ask her. If she’s OK with it – so am I.”

“Are you sure? Are you going to be OK here by yourself?”

“I think I will be. I think we need some time apart, honey. Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’ve been each other’s support system for so long that maybe it’s time to find out if we can walk on our own, so to speak.”

Chapter One

St Pancras railway station smelled of fresh pastry and coffee, and Helen’s signature sweet-citrus scent. Right now, the latter overwhelmed everything else, because Stella’s mother was hugging her so fiercely she found it hard to breathe. Stella longed for a sip of the mocha she’d been holding for the past fifteen minutes, but she didn’t want to push her mother away. They hadn’t been apart for even a single day for the past five years, and it was natural that Helen was finding it difficult to let her daughter go.

“Are you positive that’s what you need, honey?” Helen asked, as she released her from the embrace.

“Yes, Mum, I am.” Stella tried to stay calm and not point out that she had already answered that question three times in the last twenty minutes.

“You can still change your mind about the travel arrangements. It’s so much easier to get a flight ...”

“I’m not after ‘easier’, Mum,” Stella interrupted. “I’d like to enjoy the journey and take in some of the beautiful French and Italian scenery. I’m not in a hurry.”

I need time to try to reprogram my brain into thinking everything’s fine and all I have to worry about is whether I have enough sunscreen.

Helen nodded as the audio system cracked and a bored male voice announced the last call for the 14.03 Eurostar train to Paris.

“You’d better go, sweetheart,” Helen said and her eyes sparkled with tears. Stella’s own eyes glassed over and for a split second she wondered if she was doing the right thing, leaving her mum alone.
Maybe it’s time to find out if we can walk on our own
– her mother’s words echoed in her head and chased away all doubts.

The moment Stella sat in her seat, she dozed off. Sudden exhaustion overwhelmed her and at first, from pure instinct, she thought it was because of the cancer. But then, thinking about it rationally, she realised she’d been given the ‘all clear’ just a week ago and hadn’t felt better or more energised in months. No, it wasn’t the cancer that felt like a sack of potatoes weighing on her chest. It was all the emotions Stella had gone through in the past week – the exam after the operation, getting the good news, seeing her mum smile again but then leaving her on her own.

She slept the whole way to Paris. When she woke up, just as the train pulled into Gare du Nord, Stella couldn’t help but smile. Half the sack weighing on her chest was gone and she felt uplifted and ... happy. Texting her mom to let her know she had arrived in France safely, Stella rolled her suitcase off the train and took her first independent step.

And just like that, in a heartbeat, her life changed forever.

She just didn’t know it yet.

It was five o’clock in Paris and Stella had about three hours before she needed to board the Thello sleeper train to Milan. Hopping on the metro for a couple of stops, she made her way to Gare de Lyon with more than two hours to spare. It was a long time to just sit and wait for the train, but it wasn’t long enough to take a walk around the city – especially as she would have to pull her suitcase behind her the whole time.

What to do?
she thought, just as her stomach rumbled and reminded her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since that pastry at St Pancras.

As a liver cancer patient, Stella wasn’t a fan of fast food because she had to watch her diet. No, scratch that; she wasn’t a liver cancer patient anymore. Nor was she the girl who had lost half her family. She was Stella Quinn – Lisa’s cousin and long-lost friend. At least for a couple of months.

Let’s try again
– Stella Quinn wasn’t a fan of fast food, or any unhealthy food for that matter. Not just because she
had
to watch her diet, but because she loved good food. Fried, smelly, plastic-y sandwiches were not her cup of tea. Looking around, she hoped to find a decent place to sit down and eat, even though she was at a railway station. And, what do you know? – just on her right there was a restaurant that looked quite promising. Getting closer, Stella saw it was called Train Bleu and looked more like the Versailles Palace than a place to eat. The decor was so over the top that she grinned with delight – leave it to the French to have such a restaurant at a railway station!

Enduring the huge chandeliers, high Gothic ceilings and enormous hand-painted drawings on all the walls was totally worth it, though. The food was exquisite. Stella chose the most complicated meal to pronounce, just to watch the waiter’s snobby face produce a classic frown as she struggled with the words.
Fricasséee de Poulet à l’Ancienne
was indeed a mouthful, but it turned out to be so delicious that Stella vowed to remember the name and learn to say it correctly. For dessert she made another unpronounceable choice –
Croquembouche
. When the stuffy waiter brought it to the table, Stella couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a pyramid of caramel-glazed cream puffs, enclosed in a fine net of caramel strings woven together. It was so beautiful that Stella felt bad about ruining it – until she took her first bite and spent the next fifteen minutes in taste-bud heaven.

Just as Stella was paying the bill, she heard the first call for the Thello train to Milan. At that moment she was extremely glad she had decided to take the sleeper train instead of the TGV high-speed train. The one-bed carriage she’d booked seemed like heaven after the fulfilling dinner she’d just had.

And it was. Stella locked the carriage door, stretched out on the bed and was asleep before the train had even left Paris.

When she woke up, it was 4 a.m. The train was moving at a leisurely rate and there was no other noise except the gentle ‘choo-choo’ of the tracks. Opening the curtains and looking out of the window, Stella gasped. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the glimmer of its first rays was casting light on the landscape. She wasn’t sure exactly where they were, but the scenery was amazing – a lush valley surrounded by mountains that looked as majestic as something out of a fairy tale.

She definitely wasn’t in the UK anymore.

With that realisation, the last of her worries and doubts lifted off her chest and her mouth spread into a lazy smile that grew bigger and bigger until her cheeks started to hurt. And even then she couldn’t stop smiling.

As she waited for the sunrise, Stella’s thoughts left her own life back home and drifted towards her future for the next couple of months. Niki had done quite well for herself and Lisa. Using part of the money she had acquired from her husband’s life insurance, as well as from selling everything she owned back in London, Niki had bought a house in a good neighbourhood in Genoa, in walking distance from Corso Italia and the beach. With the rest she had set up her own chiropractor business, which had been very successful, and now she owned a small but luxurious spa centre.

Niki had tried to provide everything for Lisa, to make her feel secure and inspire her to live her life to the full, despite their terrible loss. During the past five years, Stella and Lisa had been in touch via email or Skype. Her cousin had seemed happier and more content as time had passed. She had also been happy for Stella for managing to get her life back on track, without the extreme measures Niki had taken for them.

Despite the distance, the two girls had remained close and Lisa was the only person besides her mum who knew about Stella’s cancer. She remembered as clearly as yesterday the day she had told her the news; Lisa had broken down and cried. It had been up to Stella to remain calm and composed, assuring her cousin she was going to be fine, instead of the other way around.

The only thing that Stella asked had been for that information to remain between the two of them. Even Niki couldn’t know. Lisa had given her word and taken an imaginary vow of silence that had made them both laugh through their tears.

Stella felt warmth on her face and realised the sun had risen halfway up while she’d been lost in thought. It was bright and soft orange, waking up the scenery that the train was travelling through. It reminded her of Lisa and her ‘orange period’ – she had been obsessed with finding ‘the perfect orange shade’ to use in one of her paintings. It had taken her four months of experimenting with colours, and when she was finally satisfied with the result her joy had been immense.

Stella’s cousin was an extremely talented artist and it wasn’t a surprise for anyone when she chose to study History of Art at the University of Genoa. She had just finished her first year and was already taking a lot more responsibilities than a twenty-year-old should. Recognising her talent, one of her professors had offered her an internship in his gallery, as well as letting her assist him in his art class. So instead of enjoying her lecture-free summer, Lisa was stuck at a gallery most days and at a drawing studio most evenings. But she loved it. The enthusiasm with which she talked about her school and her ‘jobs’ was contagious, and Stella was really happy for her.

Lisa had felt guilty that she wasn’t going to be able to spend as much time with her cousin as she wished, because of her engagements. Stella had brushed it off and had told her that she’d always been fine on her own. They would spend as much time together as Lisa could afford, and that was great. However, Lisa hadn’t been content with that answer and had promised to introduce Stella to all her close friends. The poor people would be stuck with playing babysitter for her while Lisa worked. No objection had been allowed and, knowing her stubborn cousin as well as Stella did, she’d decided to save her breath.

Lost in her thoughts, Stella didn’t even notice how the time flew by. One minute she was staring at the beautiful scenery, and the next it seemed the train was pulling into Milano Centrale. The InterCity train to Genoa was leaving in less than an hour, according to Stella’s itinerary. She had just enough time to stretch her legs, buy a cup of coffee and find her last train.

Leaving the air-conditioned train and stepping out on the Piazza Principe’s platform in Genoa was quite a shock. The air outside was hotter and more humid than what she was used to, at any time of the year. Even in summer, London’s climate couldn’t compare with anything close to that heat. Thank God Lisa had warned her how hot it would be and most of the clothes Stella had packed were sundresses, shorts and tank tops. At this very moment, she longed for a pair of shorts. The jeans she was wearing were starting to melt into her legs and she had serious doubts she would ever be able to get them off. Removing her jacket and draping it over the suitcase, Stella felt a bit better in her T-shirt, even though that did nothing for the jeans situation.