Rumours by Freya North Page B

babes? Jxx
    Yep xx
    Everyone had told Stella that, if there was an optimum age when change would have a minimal effect on a child, then she’d taken that decision for Will at exactly the right time in his life. Home. School. Just the two of them. Stella bit the bullet and went for change. Her loved ones had praised her, as if it had been a canny choice she’d systematically made and not the only angst-ridden option she’d felt she had. Actually, the only choice she’d really had was between Harpenden and Hertford and her big brother had made that an easy one, with the cut-price offer of his rental house.
    That evening, listening to the teacher praising Will, the feeling of Stella’s heart expanding even more for her popular, industrious and bright little boy was tempered by the presence of the little low red plastic chair empty next to the one on which she sat. It was as if the full impact of all the wonderful words was somehow reduced because it was heard by only one set of ears. Parent’s evening.
    Four terms in, she no longer felt conspicuous as the lone single parent in Will’s year. If anything, she was pleased to have moved to a community in which stable family values were strong and she’d grown to enjoy the genuine warmth extended to her. Waiting outside the classroom, busily browsing art folders and maths books, admiring the displays of
Words Into Pictures
on the walls as if the corridor was an overflow for the Royal Academy, Stella felt happy, lucky, that she and Will were there. He had his little gang of chums – and she was now very much one of the mums.
    â€˜Mums’ night out next Friday, Stella – Will can come for a sleepover if babysitting’s a problem.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜Wasn’t Will fantastic in assembly last week! Quite the little actor!’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    Much to be very grateful for. Just that hiccup of an envelope at home, waiting to be opened. Its contents already known yet the effect they might have, strangely unfathomable.
    * * *
    Whenever Douglas Hutton asked to see her in his office, Stella was never sure whether she’d find her boss or her uncle in there. When she was summoned on Friday, the morning after parent’s evening, she just couldn’t tell who’d be behind his desk. Belinda, Steve and Gill eyed her suspiciously; Geoff, though, didn’t look. He liked Stella and had decided early on to turn a blind eye on any rumoured favouritism and focus on his files instead whenever Douglas Hutton put his head around his office door and said, Stella – a quick word.
    â€˜A strange one, this,’ was Douglas’s opening line. He looked at Stella quizzically, as if alternating between seeing her as his niece and as his newest member of staff who was already proving her worth. ‘You’ve been asked for. By name.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜Really, I ought to be taking this myself – if it comes off. Being head of the company, and more experienced than any of you. And you’ll have to steel yourself – if it comes off – to that lot out there baying for your blood. But whatever I want – and whatever the others won’t want – has no bearing, whatsoever, on what this potential client wants.’ He paused. ‘Are you all right?’
    Stella wasn’t sure how to tell him she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. ‘I’m fine. I’m just not entirely sure I understand.’
    â€˜You can’t understand,’ he said gruffly. ‘I haven’t told you yet.’ Douglas was famous for his lengthy scene-setting, whether it was an introduction to a choice anecdote recounted at Christmas dinner or a preamble to a pep talk during Monday meeting here in the office.
    â€˜Sorry.’
    â€˜I don’t think you will be!’ He regarded her with a rare and wry smile. He shook his head gravely, contradicting the gesture with a