Sunflower

By Hayley Howard

New Mum Josie Clark is adjusting to her role as a house-wife and full time mother to a tear-away toddler. Her life is almost perfect, other than the influence of her frosty mother-in-law Stella who quite clearly, hates her!

Josie witnesses a horrible argument between Stella and her husband Joe one day and decides that maybe Stella isn't as happy as she makes out. When Josie makes it her mission to bond with her she uncovers Stella's deepest secrets which leads her all the way to Puerto Banus in Spain.
The whole family is swept into the turmoil and tragedy that no-one could have ever expected and pushes Josie and Callums own relationship from blissful to almost broken, especially when Josie's big sister turns up!.

This story shows that everyone has a past with their own demons and every family no matter how perfect they look on the outside has their problems, its how you cope with them that makes you strong.

Told from Josie and Stella's perspectives in a humorous way that new Mums and daughter-in-laws everywhere will relate to!

This is the sequel to Hayley Howard's first successful novel 'Wallflower' which shows Josie's life now baby Zac is a toddler and the introduction to Callums Mother who brings their family into completely new territory.

You do not need to have read 'Wallflower' to understand or enjoy 'Sunflower'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hayley Howard
• Release date: Oct 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301545056

Hayley Howard

Originally from England, I emmigrated to Australia when I was 18. I have since been working as a freelance artist, photographer and now author! I have nearly finished my second novel and am enjoying my passion of writing, from home where I look after my beautiful babies!

Book preview

SUNFLOWER - 1996

By Hayley Howard

Copyright Hayley Howard 2013

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

Stella

I love you too she said to the man on the end of the line, that wasn’t her husband.

Hanging up the phone, she closed her eyes and wondered what the hell happened next.

STELLA?! Her husband bellowed from his armchair in front of the news downstairs.

She slowly stood up and walked towards her husband’s voice, which was still calling her name. He would never think of actually coming to her, even though it was him that wanted to speak to her. Calling out to her like she was a dog and he was the master, which she supposed pretty much summed up their relationship.

She found Joe in his usual spot, the giant green leather armchair that made him look and feel like a king, the 6 o’clock news on, eating the steak and vegetable meal she had prepared for him earlier on.

Where have you been? He asked, without even looking at her.

I was just going to run a bath she lied.

Listen, I need you to call Maggie, let her know the details for tomorrow, I saw Bob today and he didn’t know what time, or the place…

I told you yesterday it’s at the Cart Horse, it’s always at the Cart Horse, I sent out invitations weeks ago? wondering why the hell she even bothered talking to him, he never listened to a word she said.

Sorry Darling it slipped my mind, just call Maggie and confirm

Yes of course, are you ready for your drink?

Yes please, a nice cold white tonight

She poured him his wine, washed up his dirty plate and asked him if he’d like anything else. He put his index finger out, shushing her, indicating he was concentrating on the news report.

It was motions like that that had made her hate him. They’d been married 27 years and there were only so many times you could be shushed.

Josie

NOOOOOOO! I Screamed, whilst lunging towards Zac to retrieve the stone he had just put in his mouth.

No hunny, that’s yucky I said as he burst into tears when I snatched the rock away. We were playing in the garden to get some fresh air but instead of playing with the ball or his little three wheel trike all he wanted to do was scope the garden for mud and worms and stones, tasting as much as he could on the way.

17 month old Zac was at the ‘exploring’ age and put anything and everything he came across into his mouth. He hated sitting still, especially in a pram or a highchair and was constantly trying to escape anytime I strapped him in. I was constantly panicking that I was going to lose him if we ever went anywhere in public. He loved to run off, he was like a loose cannon, squealing with laughter as he sprinted on his chubby little legs into swarms of people, heading for the toddler pool at the park, or out of a restaurants doors. I spent half my life saying Zac! Stop! Come back he was just one of those kids that wasn’t happy sitting in a pram or a highchair or on a rug playing with toys, Callum says he’s an ‘adventurer’.

I know, it’s pretty normal stuff for a toddler but it was a mothers job to

a) worry and b) protect them, so for now that was us, Zac finding a dangerous situation and me preventing him from cracking his head open, choking, getting abducted, that kind of thing.

I just hoped he would behave on Sunday.

Callum’s Mother was hosting her annual ‘big shoot lunch’ and oddly we had been invited. It was odd because we didn’t hunt, if anything I was more against it than for it. We would be bringing a toddler with us and Stella hated me. (Of course she’d never said this but I knew she did).

When we got the giant professionally printed invitation that read ‘you are cordially invited to…" my first thought was

‘Puh-lease this isn’t Cinderella’.

Callum was thrilled; he loved Hampshire which is where it is being held, and any chance to suck up to his parents.

"Don’t you think it’ll be a bit difficult taking Zac to a shoot lunch?"

Why? No-one’s going to be shooting anything in the pub!

Yes Callum, I’m aware of that, I just mean with all those posh, old people, they’ll get annoyed with him running around everywhere

Not when they know Queen Stella is his Grandmother, none of them would dare.

He was right about that but it was her that I was worried about. I just smiled and agreed it would be lovely.

I’ve been dreading it ever since the bloody invitation came through the letterbox though. Stella Foster, aka ‘Queen Stella’ (a nickname I came up with myself- due to her acting like she was royalty) aka Callums overbearing Mother. She was a constant thorn in my side. It was a mixture of fear, resentment and the bad vibes I got from her.

Although she was charming on the surface, I could see that beneath her fake smiles, she didn’t think I was good enough for Callum. She absolutely worshipped him.

I used to think it was creepy but after I had my own son I kind of understood, they’re your whole world. Although I like to think I’d never be like her.

Stella never does anything obvious or nasty to me but her snide, patronising comments, really, really get under my skin. For instance the last time we had seen Stella and Joe had been at their house (Their territory, so she’s always worse on these occasions). We’d gone to stay for a long weekend. A guest bedroom had been specially set up for us; Callum’s old crib had even been hauled down from the attic to accommodate Zac. There was a present for each of us on arrival, Callum and I getting matching fluffy white bathrobes with our initials sewn on the back in Gold cotton, completely over the top but I absolutely loved them and secretly became a bit excited, thinking that Stella had made such an effort, she must be warming to me. I thought it was all for my benefit and that she was trying to start some kind of relationship.

That was until she opened her mouth.

Let me see little Zachary she cooed, holding her arms out for Callum to pass the eight month old baby.

It’s just Zac Mum he corrected her for the ninetieth time.

"I know that’s what you call him for short but surely his full name is Zachary"

No, I’ve told you before, it’s just Zac on his birth certificate

Not Zachariah?

No he said shortly

Oh, that’s strange

I don’t know if she said things like this on purpose or if she was just really stupid. Calling my sons name strange! Not directly but still, she pissed me off, she was rude.

The next big disaster was when we went out for a picnic, Stella packed a big wicker basket full of cheeses and hams and crackers, it was lovely, my favourite kind of lunch. About ten minutes into the picnic though, Zac did an absolutely horrific poo, one that seeps through the sides of the nappy. He was teething and I had been changing his nappy like 12 times a day at that time, I reached into the nappy bag and fished around for the baby wipes. I pulled a clean nappy out, I fished around inside the bag a bit more, beginning to see a clear picture of the baby-wipes sitting on the rocking chair in the guest bedroom. Shit. My blood ran cold, the feeling of dread creeped over me. This is how she made me feel.

I had to break the news I’d ‘forgotten’ to pack the baby wipes. The picnic was brought to a sudden end as we had to pack up and drive the fifteen minutes home with Zac crying in his shitty nappy because no-one had any kind of material that was suitable for bum wiping, (it was one of those horrible acidy teething runny poos) and Stella obviously enjoyed making a complete big deal out of it Let’s just go back, the boy needs some baby wipes, we’ll just go back to the house and get them! she carried on. By the end of all the ‘what a shame we had to leave’ and ‘you must be more organised when you have a child’ comments I was almost crying myself and I could feel the big black ball of anger and hatred forming in my stomach, getting bigger with every word she spoke.

I had been in such a rush at the house, packing the bag and trying to dress Zac and I was so flustered as ten minutes after I’d got him dressed and sorted he needed his nappy changed again. Stella had called up the stairs that everyone was ready to go. Three times.

I’d had to unpack the wipes, dispose of his dirty nappy in the bin outside, I hadn’t had a chance to run back upstairs and get them as we were ushered into the car by the ever impatient Stella.

There was no point in explaining all of this though. As usual I kept my mouth shut as she went on and on. My jaw clenching and my teeth literally biting the tip of my tongue.

Stupid, irrelevant, patronising comments that made me silently but furiously resent her. I strived to be the bigger person, she was Callum’s mother after all and I didn’t have to see her very often. Thank God.

I just hoped I could keep my cool tomorrow. I’d packed everything we might possibly need for the lunch. Toys, dummies, bottles, spare clothes, 4 packs of baby wipes, and headache tablets for me, as being around Stella for too long always brought on a migraine.

I was planning on picking up a bunch of flowers for her in the morning from a florist, a bottle of wine and some recent photographs of Zac. I’d heard her complaining quietly to Callum one day that I never bring a gift when I arrive. This time she was getting three.

Don’t worry about the lunch Josie Callum reassured me, hugging me from behind as I packed like a maniac.

I’m not; I just don’t want a repeat of last time

With the shitty nappy at the picnic he laughed

Yes! It’s not funny! I thought she was going to call child line and get Zac put in a home after the song and dance she made, making me out to be the worst mother in the bloody world!

You know why she does it don’t you?

I had a hundred answers. Because she’s mean, pathetic, bored, thinks she’s royalty…

No, I don’t actually I said sweetly.

Because she’s threatened by you, she sees how much of a good mother you are, how much I love you and she feels left out, she feels useless. I don’t think she’s actually very happy anymore he said his brow crinkling, like he was worried about her.

He always knew the right thing to say, I felt my shoulders drop a little. She was just one person after all. I just hugged him, not wanting to get into a big discussion about his mother and told him I loved him. We were interrupted by Zac tripping over his pile of lego and landing on another pile of lego on his forehead, which for sure would leave a bruise. Oh great I sighed, my mind already jumping to what Stella would say about it, scooping him up and kissing him on the head. My gorgeous boy.

Stella

They had met at last year’s hunt ball at Corford Castle. It was a beautiful event, held in a giant, sparkling marquee that Stella had personally organised and helped decorate in the grounds of the castle. Everything had been white and gold and looked classy and sophisticated as usual.

Each year there was a big fundraising event, sometimes just donations, raffles, sponsored events but last year there was a ‘glamorous’ theme, extravagant items up for auction and everyone had to wear gowns or suits for the occasion.. Some local businesses donated items to be auctioned off, like Televisions, Meat platters, vouchers from the hairdressers and spas for deluxe pampering packages that kind of thing.

Graham had donated one of his own paintings. I didn’t know beforehand but he was a well-established artist in the South of England, he had a couple of galleries, a lot of Awards and was very respected in the art world.

As he came up to introduce the painting, his voice, his explanation, his face, captivated me.

Hi everybody, how are you doing? I have painted this especially for tonight, it’s one of my favourite places in the New Forest, I’m extremely happy with it and hope some of you like it too, so we can raise some more money for this excellent charity He went on to explain to the crowd the importance of the painting to him personally and I sat there listening, mesmerized by his soft nature and slight cockney accent. He ended his words with a shy wave and stepped back down from the stage.

As usual, her husband Joe, wasn’t sitting next to her, he’d spent half the night talking and drooling over Tara and her cleavage.

She lifted her hand at the 500 pound mark, impulsively deciding that she wanted to buy the painting and that she wanted to speak to this intriguing artist even more. That’s when she noticed Joe staring over at her with a frown on his face, paying attention to her for the first time all night. Typical. It brought a smirk to her own face.

She bid again against the fat old man sitting across the room. 650! Shouted the auctioneer, again she raised her hand, in a bidding war that was obviously really frustrating her opposition. Can I hear 770? He looked at her and she knew he was going to give in and let her have it. SOLD To the beautiful woman in Blue!

Stella just kept thinking that if she won that bid, then she could go and talk to him, it was crazy and completely out of character for her but she did also deliberately wanted to annoy Joe, how dare he humiliate her like this at every fucking function they went to together, sleazing on to younger, more attractive (but not as intelligent) women as her. And now again with Tara. What was so special about her? Why did he have to be so obvious about it? She could see the pity but ‘we’re pretending not to notice’ look in everyones eyes that she spoke to that night. Maybe this would give them something to talk about instead. Stella giving her husband a taste of his own medicine.

The artist smiled and clapped his hands throwing her a huge smile, which was worth the money on its own. Joe was storming over now, leaving Tara shocked and open mouthed, he had a habit of leaving someone mid conversation if something more important called his attention. Like his wife spending 770 pounds of ‘his’ money on a painting.

Luckily the auctioneer called her name and invited her up to the front of the stage to congratulate her and thank at the same time, apparently it was the most money raised for the charity on one item all night so far.

I’m so pleased! It’s a beautiful painting she gushed, turning her shoulder to actually look at it properly for the first time. Luckily it was beautiful. A lovely impressionist style landscape of an English countryside that you’d think Claude Monet himself had painted. Wow, it was brilliant.

It’s a charity very close to my heart and I’m thrilled to be a part of contributing. She continued. She saw Joes face, flushed red with anger as well as the spirits he’d been drinking all night.

The auctioneer then said what’s your name Miss?

Stella. Stella Foster and deliberately left off the Mrs.

Aha, the same Stella Foster who organised everything here tonight? he asked.

Oh, not everything, just the décor and location and a few of the companies who have donated… she said coyly, playing herself down as usual, even though it had been a hell of a lot more work than it sounded, agonising over the perfect décor scheme, meetings with marquee organisers, fighting over prices and times...

Suddenly there was a round of applause and cheers of ‘great job love’ from the crowd. Wow, that was unexpected, and she began to blush, grateful for a bit of recognition for once.

Stella turned around and finally came face to face with the artist himself. Can I buy you a drink? It’s the least I can do to Thank you he asked her in his soft, kind, strong voice. Of course She said, thrilled that he was asking. They walked to the bar with each other. It was strange that they didn’t feel like strangers. Luckily Joe had resumed his spot next to Tara and her spilling out cleavage and Stella knew she would pay for it later but for now she could sit with Graham and enjoy his company.

Those forty five minutes would change her life forever.

The night of the hunt ball, Joe and Stella got separate taxis, he didn’t even go home. Despite her amazing meeting with Graham she was still pretty hurt because he hadn’t done this for such a long time. Of course she knew where he was, she just hoped no-one had seen them leave together. That was the worst part of his affairs, the embarrassment, everyone knowing but never mentioning it. Like her feelings didn’t even deserve consideration. The other part that hurt was that he knew he had feelings for Tara. He had had one night stands or work flings but Tara was different. Because he kept going back to her. It was more than sex and to be honest that hurt more.

Joe ran a big company, he owned the retail giant store ‘Country Class’. There were 25 stores in the South of England, seven in the North, and two in Scotland. It was where everyone went to buy all their outdoor gear, hunting gear (including guns). There was a separate department that specialised in the best of the best hunting wear; you know the red coats, the leather boots, waistcoats, jackets and hats and even a formal wear section for the hunt balls and special occasions.

Each store was massive and it was the place to buy that kind of stuff, it had an amazing reputation which Joe had worked hard for his whole life.

Because Joe had money though, a lot of money, people didn’t want to piss him off. Everyone they knew either worked for him or gained business from him. Business they couldn’t afford to lose if Joe changed to another company for example. Even her own friends, who were very few, never asked any questions, whether it was to protect her feelings or protect their husband’s interests, she never knew. A rich man could get away with a lot more than a poor man,