Wish Upon a Star. Trisha Ashley

from the first day.’

      ‘But what made him choose Ormskirk? When I heard about the shop, it seemed the most unlikely place – yet I can see it’s a huge success.’

      ‘David comes from Southport and fell for the old bakery after he spotted it on the internet, and luckily there was an empty flat above it, too. What about you,’ he asked tentatively, ‘why did you move up here?’

      ‘I sold my flat near Primrose Hill and we moved in with my mother because I needed to raise some capital quickly to fund treatment for Stella.’ I took a sip of coffee, which was strong and good. ‘Perhaps you noticed how small and frail she looks for her age?’

      He nodded, his eyes soft and sympathetic.

      ‘It’s because she was born with a heart condition, a serious and complicated one.’

      ‘Hence the hospital appointments you mentioned? I’m so sorry – it must be an enormous worry to you and she’s such a bright, lovely little girl.’

      ‘Yes, it is,’ I confessed. ‘The hospital here has taken over monitoring her progress, but they’d really like her to put on some weight before she goes to America in autumn for an operation … It’s very risky, you see, experimental surgery, but without it the consultant in London said that eventually her organs would begin to suffer under the strain of coping.’

      I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself describing in detail Stella’s problems and what the consultant said, just as if I’d known Jago for ever. It felt that way.

      ‘But surely she could have the operation here, on the NHS?’ he demanded. ‘You shouldn’t have to go abroad for it.’

      ‘They can do so much these days with surgery, but in Stella’s case, they’d reached the end of the road over here. But Celia and I – that’s my best friend – researched on the internet and found a surgeon who’d pioneered the operation she needed in Boston, but he’s the only one who can help. I got the hospital in London to send him all the X-rays and her notes and stuff, and he’s willing to do it, but of course it’ll cost an absolute fortune.’

      ‘So you sold the flat and moved here? I see …’

      ‘We thought we’d have longer to raise the money, but Stella was ill back in January and they advised us to move the operation date forward to this autumn, so I put the flat on the market. I’ve put the profit I made into the charitable fund that Celia and her husband, Will, helped me to set up and run, called Stella’s Stars. Donations are coming in all the time, though not big ones – people are so kind, even strangers.’

      ‘Stella’s Stars? That’s a good name.’

      ‘She’s my little star,’ I said, feeling better for telling him all about it. ‘Some of the people I know in London have fundraised, but even after selling the flat I’m still around twenty thousand pounds short, even though the surgeon has generously offered to waive his fee for doing the operation. But the operation is booked for the start of November and we need to fly over at the end of October, so I’ll have to find the rest of the money quite quickly somehow.’

      I smiled at him ruefully. ‘It looks like we’ve both taken a gamble in moving up here – you and David on the success of your new businesses and me on being able to raise the rest of the money.’

      ‘Your gamble is much more important than mine … but couldn’t Stella’s father help?’ Jago asked tentatively.

      ‘Stella’s father is my ex-fiancée that I told you about. He’d left me by the time I found out I was pregnant and he wasn’t remotely interested in being a father when I told him. In fact, he suggested I have an abortion, and when I refused, he cut off all contact with me – changed his email address and everything. He was back in the Antarctic by then, which made him even more uncontactable.’

      ‘The Antarctic?’

      ‘Yes, he was working out there as a marine biologist. I don’t know where he went after that. He could still be there, for all I know.’

      ‘He doesn’t sound much of a loss.’

      ‘No, I think he probably comes under the heading of “lucky escapes”.’

      ‘That’s pretty much what David said when my fiancée ran off with someone else,’ he said wryly. ‘Sarah works in a Mayfair hair salon so she’d heard lots of gossip about my ex, Aimee, and she was pretty blunt about telling me what she thought of her. Aimee organised events for her rich friends for a living, and she was beautiful, smart, classy and connected – way out of my league, but I did think she loved me …’

      They sounded an unlikely combination: a rich social butterfly and a hard-working baker, even if the said baker was the quietly handsome sort that you might pass in the street, but then turn round and go back to have another look at.

      He shook off his fit of abstraction. ‘Well, at least the lottery winnings gave me the chance of an exciting new start somewhere where I’ll never come across Aimee again.’

      ‘Stella had already turned my life upside down before I moved here. I had this idea that babies just slotted into your life, especially if like me you do most of your work at home. But even if she hadn’t been born with so many health problems, everything would have changed once she’d arrived anyway, I can see that now.’

      ‘Children do have a way of turning lives upside down,’ Jago agreed. ‘But I’m sure you’ve never regretted having her for an instant.’

      ‘No, my only regret is that she has to suffer the effects of the heart problems – and even if I manage to raise the money for the operation, there’s no guarantee of success … so I worry about that, too: but it’s her only hope of living a normal life.’

      I finished off my very excellent sandwich and Jago ordered two madeleines to go with another cup of coffee, which he said was his treat.

      ‘They do perfect madeleines. I don’t think I’ve tasted such good ones outside Paris.’

      ‘I used to make them years ago, but had sort of forgotten about them,’ I said, distracted as usual, even if only temporarily, from Stella’s problems. ‘I still have a madeleine baking tray, though …’

      ‘I’ll send you my recipe for them, if you like?’ he offered. ‘It’s a genuine French one and usually turns out well. I worked for a year in Paris, that’s where I learned how to make the croquembouches.’

      When they came, we dunked our madeleines in the coffee, companionably.

      ‘Madeleines would be a really good thing to feature in one of my articles,’ I mused. ‘I’m trying to stockpile as many as possible, to leave me free for several months later in the year. I’ve been thinking about doing a feature on proper Eccles cakes for “The Cake Diaries”, too.’

      ‘It must be difficult constantly coming up with ideas when all the Stella stuff is going on?’

      ‘It is, but I have to keep them coming and bringing in the money – and anyway, I find baking cakes a sort of a comfort … and eating them too.’

      ‘Yes, so do I,’ Jago agreed.

      ‘At least yours hasn’t hit your hips,’ I said wryly. ‘I must have put on stones in the last couple of years.’

      ‘I think I’m just the type who burns it off. And you don’t look overweight to me, but just right.’

      I’m sure that was a kind lie, but even so, I warmed to him even more.

      ‘So, have you had any more ideas for fundraising the rest of the money you need?’ he asked.

      ‘Nothing major. The Sticklepond vicar visited us the other day and when I told him about Stella he said he was sure the whole village would get together and help me, and he’d think of how best to organise it and get back to me … and you know,’ I added ruefully, ‘I suddenly seem to have gone from being one