It was almost ten by the time Midnight sauntered through the garden gates on Geraint’s arm, and the party was in full swing. Phoebe had been dancing – or rather, trying to dance – with Jack when she spotted her arrival.
‘Oooh! Midnight and Geraint have come together!’ she squealed.
‘I’ll bet they have,’ Jack said, ‘which’ll be why they’re late.’
Phoebe slapped him on the arm. ‘Behave yourself. It doesn’t matter as long as they’re here. Anyway, I think it’s lovely.’ Without waiting for a reply, she rushed over to meet them and threw her arms around them both in turn. ‘I’m so glad you could come!’ she cried, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed with a combination of booze, dancing, cold and excitement.
‘Of course you are,’ Midnight grinned. ‘What have you been drinking, you’re steaming.’
‘No I’m not.’
‘If you say so…’ Midnight looked up at the house – a warm glow from every window, lanterns and fairy lights twinkling amongst the trees of the garden, the band playing while people danced, the warm smell of the barbeque on the air and laughter coming from all quarters. ‘It’s a pretty amazing party,’ she said in a softer voice, and she smiled at Phoebe. ‘We wouldn’t have missed this; not for the world.’
Phoebe felt a lump rise in her throat. Perhaps it was the drink that was making her sentimental, but was that Midnight actually telling her how much she cared? ‘I love you so much!’ she squeaked as she threw her arms around her again.
‘Steady on… you’ll be making my man jealous,’ Midnight laughed.
Geraint, who had been silent and grinning throughout the exchange, merely grinned a little more broadly.
‘We might as well tell you something else, before we get into trouble for keeping secrets,’ Midnight added.
‘What?’ Phoebe asked breathlessly. ‘Are you getting married?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Midnight replied, more like her old self. ‘But we are moving in together.’
‘You are? That’s brilliant!’ Phoebe beamed.
‘Yeah… and you are coming back to the office soon to help Dixon, aren’t you?’
‘Yes… next week.’
‘Good, because I won’t be able to.’
‘You don’t have to go back to the shop floor; I’m sure Dixon will have a word with Adam about it…’
‘I won’t be able to because we’ve managed to get me up the duff.’
Phoebe stared at her, and then at Geraint, who simply blushed, though he looked rather pleased with himself all the same. ‘You’re going to have a baby?’ Phoebe said in a small voice.
‘Looks like it.’
‘And you’re ok with it?’
‘You did it. How hard can it be?’
‘But…’
‘Don’t worry,’ Midnight smiled. ‘It was an accident but we’re happy about it.’
‘You are?’
‘Yes. Which is more than can be said for Geraint’s mother.’
‘You’ve met her?’
‘Earlier tonight. That’s why we were late.’
‘Mummy Midnight… it has a ring, don’t you think?’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Midnight growled.
‘You can have my breast pump. And I probably have some stretch mark oil left over somewhere, and support tights… and –’
‘Oi!’ Midnight cried. ‘Stop it!’
Phoebe giggled. ‘If you’re happy then I think it’s amazing. And you’ll make fantastic parents.’
‘You think?’ Midnight asked, for the first time looking less than supremely confident about the whole thing.
‘I know so.’
Jack joined them. ‘Sorry… got held up by Archie…. Or rather, I had to hold him up while I sat him in a chair to sober up. What have I missed?’
Phoebe giggled, while Midnight and Geraint just grinned.
‘Have I missed some massive joke?’ Jack asked.
Phoebe twirled around into his arms and pulled him close. ‘You know what?’
‘What?’ Jack asked, smiling down at her.
‘Life is perfect.’
The End…
…The real and actual end this time
About the Author
Tilly Tennant was born in Dorset, the eldest of four children, but now lives in Staffordshire with a family of her own. Tilly is married to Mr Tennant (not that one, though a girl can dream). After years of dismal and disastrous jobs, including paper plate stacking, shop girl, newspaper promotions and waitressing (she never could carry a bowl of soup without spilling a bit), she decided to indulge her passion for the written word by embarking on a degree in English and creative writing, graduating in 2009. She wrote a novel during her first summer break at university and has not stopped writing since. She also works as a freelance editor, and considers herself very lucky that this enables her to read many wonderful books before the rest of the world gets them.
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Also by Tilly Tennant
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn
The Man Who Can’t Be Moved
Mishaps and Mistletoe (the inspiration for the Mishaps from Millrise series)
Once Upon a Winter (a new four-novella-part series):
The Accidental Guest
I’m Not in Love
Ways to Say Goodbye
One Starry Night
And writing as Sharon Sant
The Memory Game
Dead Girl Walking
The Sky Song Trilogy:
Sky Song
The Young Moon
Not of Our Sky
Runners
Mishaps in Millrise: Parts 1-4 in one book – plus a little extra… Page 42