In a heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) Read online

  “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 t
ime 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.

  She arrived in Genoa at 9.30 a.m. Just on time. Feeling refreshed from the strong double macchiato she had had in Milan, and the fact that she had arrived at her destination safely, Stella pulled her suitcase to the nearest exit. She jumped in a taxi, gave the driver the address and texted her mother. The reply came almost immediately and Stella was sure her mum hadn’t slept all night, clutching her phone and waiting for her daughter’s ‘arrived safely in Genoa’ text to come.

  That was it. She was here. She could relax and enjoy herself.

  About time.

  Chapter Two

  Lisa had left the key to their house with the neighbours, because both she and Niki would be at work when Stella arrived. She had been instructed to knock on Signora DeFiore’s door, introduce herself and get the key.

  “Buon giorno, Signora DeFiore?” Stella began when the neighbours’ door opened and a pretty, middle-aged woman smiled warmly at her. She was just about to introduce herself and ask for the key when the signora enveloped her in a hug, kissed both her cheeks, twice, and started a tirade of how glad she was to meet Lisa’s cousin, while ushering her inside and starting to set the table for lunch. Stella was taken by surprise, because the warm welcome of a complete stranger was not something her neighbours did. Or anyone in London did, for that matter.

  An hour, a very delicious meal and two cups of coffee later, Stella emerged from the house, clutching the key in her hand. Under different circumstances she might have been annoyed at the woman’s familiarity, but she had been so sincere in her hospitality towards Stella that she felt anything but cross.

  Opening the door to Lisa and Niki’s house, she stepped right into the living room. The house was newly built and quite modern – the living area was huge, decorated in light, pastel colours, with lots of light coming from the numerous windows. Stella pulled her suitcase inside and closed the door behind her. On the far wall to her left there was a huge, flat-screen TV mounted on the wall and in front of it there were several sofas, armchairs and beanbags in different shapes and sizes. It looked very comfortable and cosy.

  On the right was the door that led to the kitchen – it was open and Stella could see the white cupboards and an enormous dining table. Right in front of her, however, was what she was most interested in – huge French windows leading into the garden. Stella stepped in that direction and, what do you know? – there was a swimming pool, lounge chairs and a built-in barbecue outside. Turning around, a white piece of paper on the coffee table got her attention and she went to pick it up. It was a note from Lisa.

  Welcome!!!

  Make yourself at home – your room is upstairs, the second door on the left. Unpack, relax, take a shower – whatever. I’ll be back around 4. Can’t wait to see you!!!

  P.S. That sim card is for you. Put it in your phone and I’ll call you as soon as I can.

  Love you!

  Lisa

  Stella put the sim card in her phone and texted her mum her Italian number. Afterwards, she did as instructed – dragged her suitcase up the stairs and found her room. It was quite spacious, with a big bed in the middle. There also were a huge wardrobe, a desk and a couple of beanbags scattered around. And best of all – it had en suite. Stella grinned and threw herself on the bed.

  An hour later she had unpacked, peeled off her jeans, taken a shower, dressed in a yellow dress and white flip-flops, and she still had three hours until Lisa got home. Looking in the mirror while trying to tame her long, dark-blonde hair into a ponytail, Stella felt she hadn’t looked better in a long time. She was glowing with happiness and there was peace in her grey eyes that hadn’t been there only a day ago.

  The sun was shining outside and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. As a Londoner, it just felt wrong sitting inside when the weather was that good, so she grabbed her Genoa tourist guide and set off to explore the city on her own.

  Corso Italia, a two-mile pedestrian promenade, was a ten-minute walk away from Lisa’s house. It weaved parallel to the beach for the whole two miles, and Stella could enjoy the seaside scenery on her left and the urban landscape on her right as she walked. Genoa was a truly beautiful city, although it could be a bit overwhelming at first. Most of the buildings were brightly coloured in orange, red, yellow, blue and green, and the explosion of colours could make your head spin. Stella tried not to stare as fit, tanned women wearing next to nothing jogged or walked their dogs, chatting excitedly among themselves. Or when hunky men in shorts and not much else rollerbladed past her. It was a hot day in many respects, and Stella stopped by a gelato stall and bought an ice cream to try and cool down.

  Reaching the end of Corso Italia, Stella decided to make her way back, but this time she wanted to walk along the beach. It was becoming really hot and she desperately needed some fresh breeze and cool water to avoid getting a heat stroke. The sudden change of climate was already taking its toll on her body.

  Stella took her flip-flops off and went down to the sea. As the first little wave washed up to her ankles she squealed in delight. Too bad she hadn’t put her bikini under the dress – right now she was tempted to go into the water, clothes and all. Instead, she started walking along the shore, enjoying the sun, the sand under her feet, the water and the refreshing breeze. There were so many people – gorgeous women in tiny bikinis; tanned men sporting six-packs and charming Italian smiles; children running around shouting; tourists under their umbrellas. She could spot a tourist from a mile – they were pale, hiding under the shade of their parasols or straw hats. Looking at her own pale skin she realised she was a tourist, too. Stella needed to do something about that tan, asap. It would be her mission to have a healthy, golden glow all over her skin in less than two weeks, so that she wouldn’t feel so out of place.

  A horn sounded in the distance and as Stella turned towards the sea to look at the enormous ship that had produced the sound, her gaze was locked on a scene so beautiful that the picturesque beach paled in comparison. A lifeguard was emerging from the water, his orange trunks stuck to his legs and water dripping from all over him. He shook his head to get rid of some of the water in his hair and Stella felt as if everything started developing in slow motion – tiny drops of water slid from his neck down his broad chest and muscular arms, along a weaving tattoo design on his right shoulder, and continued downwards towards his chest and washboard stomach, finally getting lost in his trunks’ waist. A part of another tattoo was peeking over his trunks on his left hip, the other part hidden under them. His golden, tanned skin glistened in the sun and he moved with such grace that a panther would be deemed clumsy next to him.


  Stella must have stopped in her tracks and stared open-mouthed when she caught the lifeguard’s attention. In typical Italian style, he grinned and winked at her before continuing up the beach and climbing to his station. Stella felt her pale skin flame and that was enough to shake her out of her trance. It was a total ‘Baywatch moment’ and she couldn’t resist the urge to look around for any cameras. She couldn’t believe that something like that could have just happened without anyone shooting it for a film, or at least a commercial.

  Gathering as much dignity as she could muster in such circumstances, she continued her walk as if she hadn’t stared at someone for a solid five minutes. Passing right in front of his lifeguard station, she couldn’t help but stare at the god-like creature. He met her eyes with a devilish smile on his face. Instead of finding it arrogant, however, Stella thought it was as sexy as hell.

  Her phone’s ring startled her and she jumped, her heart thudding in her chest. Getting it out of her dress’s pocket, she smiled before she slid her finger up to accept the call.

  “Where are you? I just got home and you’re not here; I’ve looked everywhere! Are you OK?” Lisa’s panicked voice sounded on the other end.

  “I’m fine, Lis. Couldn’t resist going out to do some exploring – the weather is so gorgeous!”

  “Yeah, it would look like that to a Londoner, I suppose.” They both laughed. “Where are you?”

  “At the beach. I was just about to come back.”

  “OK, can you find your own way back or do you want me to come get you?”

  “The beach is a ten-minute walk from your house; I think I can manage.”

  “OK, hurry up. I can’t wait to see you!”

  “Me too. See you in a few.”

  Hanging up the phone Stella couldn’t resist turning to take one last look at the lifeguard. To her huge disappointment, he wasn’t there. Discreetly, she scanned the sea and the beach, but couldn’t see him. Oh well, maybe she had imagined the whole thing? She was well-known for day-dreaming. To make sure, she made a mental note to ask Lisa to come to the beach tomorrow.