The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘How about I help you?’

  ‘Oh…’ Phoebe blinked. ‘That would be lovely… I mean, if it’s no trouble. And I have to apologise in advance that I probably stink… I haven’t had a bath in –’

  Carol held up a hand. ‘You’ve just had a very difficult birth. I think you can be forgiven a bit of body odour.’

  ‘Right,’ Phoebe smiled.

  Carol helped Phoebe up to sit, and then arranged bits of medical tubing until Phoebe was unencumbered enough to walk.

  ‘Where are you going?’ A nurse rushed over as they headed for the doors to the ward.

  ‘To the neonatal unit,’ Carol said briskly, taking Phoebe’s arm protectively. ‘You’re not going to stop a new mother bonding with her child, are you?’

  The woman shrank back and nodded assent. Phoebe could understand why. Carol’s old bulldog look was back, and it was enough to strike fear into the hardiest of matrons.

  As they walked, Phoebe couldn’t help but reflect on the bonding she was doing with her almost-mother-in-law too. It was an unexpected turn of events, to say the least. She might have thought that Jack had had a hand in it, but Carol’s actions were far too warm and genuine to be a mere favour to her son. Perhaps this was the breakthrough, and Carol was finally on the way to accepting Phoebe into their family.

  On a bright day in June, Phoebe stood under the dappled shade of a rose-draped arbour and looked into Jack’s eyes. ‘I do,’ she said, and the smile she gave him spoke of all they had been through together, of the happiness he had brought her and the future she hoped for. He returned it as he repeated the registrar’s words, and then said, ‘I do.’ She looked down as he slipped the gold band onto her finger. There it was, the tiny contract that bound them now forever. There were so many times over the past few years when Phoebe thought that happiness such as this would never come to her, and she had resigned herself to that life. Now, she almost felt she didn’t deserve it.

  With tears in her eyes, she turned to all the people assembled to watch them take their vows, everyone who meant so much to her. There was her mum, holding baby Charlotte, the little girl who grew stronger and more beautiful every day, her dad, who had always been her knight in shining armour no matter how muddy he was after a re-enactment, her wonderful brother who had made the journey from Australia, yet again, to see her finally marry Jack, Midnight who… well, she was just Midnight, and May, the woman who had offered Phoebe friendship and love against all expectations.

  Archie, forever Archie, gave Phoebe a jaunty wink as she caught his eye. They had finally come to an understanding too. He wasn’t perfectly behaved, and he probably never would be, but Phoebe had faith that in time he would be a good brother-in-law and an even better uncle. His gambling seemed to be under control, for now, but whatever problems he came to Jack and Phoebe with in the future, she and her husband would help him through them together. It was what families did.

  Phoebe’s gaze came to rest on Maria, who was holding May’s hand – the living, breathing, prettiest little cupid who was, perhaps, the reason they were all here today. Jack’s parents stood alongside and smiled, and Carol even looked close to tears. Looking at them all, Phoebe could almost imagine that Rebecca and Vik were close by, their ghosts wandering the gardens of the register office and giving their blessings to the day.

  Life felt brand new again, and it was up to Phoebe to take that gift and make it count.

  EPILOGUE: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

  When Phoebe and Jack had talked about a bigger house, Phoebe had been thinking more along the lines of a tidy extension on their existing house. In the mellow sunshine of a late summer morning, almost two months after their marriage, she and Jack stood hand in hand, staring up at the huge… well, she could only describe it as a terrifying monster of rough bricks, held together by a network of weeds.

  ‘No way,’ she said. ‘There is just no way…’

  Jack looked at her. ‘Don’t dismiss it. Think about it for a minute. It’s an absolute steal and we might not get a chance like this again.’

  ‘It’s a steal for a reason. It’s a complete wreck! In fact, there’s more mould and weeds than house.’

  ‘It’s not that bad.’

  ‘I’ve seen sturdier looking trifles.’

  ‘There’s a good framework there. It’ll take some hard graft, I know that, but it will be worth it in the end.’

  He had that face. Oh God, Phoebe thought, not the face. She could never refuse that sweet, excited, sexy-as-hell face. She had looked at the building and vowed that she wouldn’t, couldn’t be swayed, no matter what he said. It was a disaster waiting to happen – they had two small children, a pitiful income, and very little building skill or knowledge. Neither had she extended her maternity leave so she could labour on a building site And yet, he was giving her the face and she knew that all her resolution was about to crumble.

  ‘Go on, Phoebes,’ he whispered with that special glint in his eye, the one that made the face the most potent thing on earth. ‘Why not? Let’s take some risks, live a little… it might just pay off.’

  Phoebe frowned at him.

  ‘He who dares wins?’ He grinned.

  Phoebe couldn’t hold the frown any longer and she let out a giggle.

  ‘You want to,’ Jack said, ‘tell me I’m wrong.’

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  Jack’s grin spread. ‘Yeah? We’ll see…’

  Two Months Later

  ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Jack whispered.

  Phoebe gave his arm a squeeze. ‘He wanted to help. And let’s face it, we need all the help we can get.’

  ‘I know, but…’ Jack glanced over to the car again.

  ‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ Phoebe arched an eyebrow at him.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘He is twice the size of you, which means he’ll probably be able to do double the workload. We’ll get loads done.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m not buff?’ Jack grinned.

  ‘I’m saying you’re a lover, not a fighter… or a lifter, or a labourer, or any of the other attributes useful when doing up a house… if you can call what we’ve bought one of those.’

  ‘I’m strong.’ Jack flexed his arms as if to prove his point.

  ‘Yes, but he’s got muscles on muscles. You’ve got hotness on hotness – just as valuable but in other ways.’

  ‘I’ll take that. But I’m still not sure this is such a good idea.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so insecure. I married you, didn’t I?’

  ‘But he’s pined after you for years.’

  ‘Hardly!’ Phoebe laughed. ‘I think it was because I was the only woman under thirty and not related to him that he ever talked to, not because I was some special goddess of beauty.’

  ‘I think you’re a special goddess of beauty.’

  Phoebe nudged him. ‘No you don’t. I just let you get into my knickers occasionally so you put up with me.’

  Jack held a hand over his heart and grimaced. ‘I’m mortally wounded by that remark.’

  Phoebe gave him a sideways glance. ‘Still true though.’

  The car door slammed shut, and they both turned their attention back to the imposing figure now striding over the weed-choked gravel of the driveway towards them. Phoebe gave him a bright smile. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, and we really appreciate the help… don’t we, Jack?’

  Jack gave a weak smile of agreement. ‘Yeah, we do.’

  Geraint nodded, and his soppy grin was completely at odds with his disconcerting size. ‘I’m happy to help. As soon as your dad told me what you were planning I offered to come straight over. There’s nothing l like better than a bit of hard graft – makes me feel alive, you know?’

  ‘Right…’ Jack said.

  ‘Dad not with you?’ Phoebe added, glancing over, or rather, trying to glance over, Geraint’s huge shoulder towards the car.

  ‘He’s coming in his own car later. Gone over to the bui
lder’s yard first,’ Geraint said.

  ‘For the roof tiles?’ Jack asked. ‘Wow, your dad doesn’t mess about.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Phoebe turned to Jack, ‘I totally forgot to tell you that I mentioned to him they had some reclaimed ones that matched, and I didn’t want them to go before we could buy them.’

  ‘Right…’ Jack squinted up at the roof. ‘You’re sure he knows what to get?’

  ‘Of course,’ Phoebe said, not entirely sure at all.

  An awkward silence descended on them, until it was broken by Geraint.

  ‘How are the nippers?’

  ‘Good,’ Jack replied.

  ‘Charlotte’s teething, though,’ Phoebe added. ‘See these bags?’ She pulled at an eye. ‘These are what you get for having children.’

  Geraint attempted another smile. But it was less assured now, and Phoebe wondered if there was a little sadness to it. She cursed herself for her insensitivity. While Geraint had always seemed like a cheerful, friendly giant, happy with his job and his friends and a pint of real ale with her dad’s historical re-enactors on a Sunday, Phoebe knew that what he really wanted was a wife and a family. Still living with his mum and well past thirty-five, he had set his sights on Phoebe until Jack came along. And he seemed to be having a devil of a job locating an alternative Miss Right.

  ‘Do you want to get cracking?’ Geraint asked.

  ‘We can if you don’t mind,’ Phoebe said. ‘This clearing out bit is probably the biggest of the jobs we’ll have to do ourselves, but it has to be done before we can start anything else.’

  ‘Ripping out is my forte,’ Geraint said. ‘Cleared away Mum’s kitchen units in an hour last week.’

  Jack gave an uneasy smile. ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Phoebe guessed he was recalling the first time he and Geraint had met, when they had become intimately acquainted very quickly and very publicly over a rogue chunk of beef.

  ‘Who’s got the children today? Geraint asked as they ambled towards the house.

  ‘Jack’s mum is on babysitting duty today,’ Phoebe replied cheerfully, tying a bandana over her hair as they walked. Though she was like a mother tiger where Maria and Charlotte were concerned, today she couldn’t help being excited at the prospect of a day without them. Conversations where she didn’t have to remind herself not to swear or mention sex were hard to come by, and today, despite the fact that it was going to be tough work and messy, was appealing for that reason alone.

  ‘You need to remember to take it easy,’ Jack said, giving Phoebe a stern glance.

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not still going on about that, are you? I’m pretty sure my caesarean has healed up by now.’

  ‘No lifting, that’s all I ask. You can chip and hammer away all you like but you leave the heavy stuff to me.’

  ‘Yes, Mum…’ Phoebe said wryly.

  Jack pushed open the unlocked front door and allowed Phoebe and Geraint in before following.

  ‘Oooh, it’s big, isn’t it?’ Geraint said with real approval in his voice. ‘Lovely high ceilings.’

  ‘Just right for you, then!’ Phoebe laughed. ‘No chance of you banging your head.’

  ‘What’s in here?’ Geraint made a move towards a door on his left and yanked on the handle. There was a creaking, tearing, groaning sound, and Geraint stood with his mouth comically open. The door was no longer attached to the frame, but was in his hand.

  ‘Oh…’ he said in a voice that seemed impossibly small for such a mountain of a man. ‘I am so sorry.’ He blushed as he continued to hold the door by the handle, casting around for a place to put it.

  Jack stared. And then Phoebe burst into laughter. ‘We obviously need some new interior doors.’

  Geraint gingerly placed the door against the frame, as if he could somehow hide what he’d done.

  ‘Please, don’t worry about it,’ Phoebe insisted, still laughing. ‘If we let you loose on the rest of the house, we can go for coffee and come back in ten minutes when you’re done.’

  ‘Which would be brilliant, actually,’ Jack cut in, ‘because we’re paying two mortgages right now so the quicker we can get this baby stripped and rebuilt, the better.’

  Geraint gave them a sheepish smile. ‘I’m at your service. Whenever I can help out I will.’

  ‘I know you will,’ Phoebe said, ‘and we appreciate it more than we can say.’

  ‘So… what do you want me to tackle first?’ Geraint asked.

  ‘Well, you’ve already skilfully tackled that door,’ Jack said with a grin. ‘But we were thinking of a more general clearing out for today – brushing out, pulling off loose plaster and weeds from the brickwork, birds’ nests from the chimney – that sort of thing. We’ve got roofers booked for tomorrow to start getting the old tiles off and replaced as soon as we can, so that we’re not deluged in here if it rains over the next few weeks.’

  ‘Don’t forget that some rooms need all the plaster coming off,’ Phoebe cut in.

  ‘Oh yes, I suppose so. The plaster probably does need to come off pretty much every room to be honest, but I wasn’t going to ask you to do all that today. There’s an old kitchen that needs to be ripped out too, ready for the new units and the bathroom… well, I don’t even know where to start with the bathroom and boiler. Maybe we’ll just leave all that to a plumber to worry about.’

  ‘The same goes for rewiring,’ Phoebe reminded him.

  ‘Bloody hell, I’d forgotten about the rewiring.’ Jack rubbed a hand through his hair. Phoebe recognised his expression and knew that the reality of the task they’d set themselves had finally hit him as he stood in the middle of it, about to begin.

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ Phoebe said gently. It was strange, because at first she had been dead against the idea of buying this house, but now, as she stood amongst all the dust and damp, she could see amazing potential. She had fixed the wreck of her life – she and Jack had fixed it together – and an old house was nothing compared to that. Between them, the love they threw at it would see them through, just like it had seen them through everything else.

  It was then that a car horn sounded from outside playing Yankee Doodle Dandy. Phoebe rushed to the front door.

  ‘Aye, aye,’ Jack laughed. ‘There’s only one car I know that has a horn like that.’

  Midnight had only passed her driving test a few months before, but already she was driving like a stunt double from The Dukes of Hazard. Phoebe watched her do a handbrake turn and skid to a halt, gravel spitting across the lawn in her wake.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Phoebe breathed. ‘I didn’t think she could get any sexier and now there’s this.’

  ‘Sexy?’ Jack asked from behind her. ‘Terrifying if you ask me.’

  Midnight climbed out of the passenger side of her bright pink Vauxhall Corsa with a manic grin. Phoebe raced out to meet her.

  ‘Wow… You changed your hair! You look amazing!’

  Midnight’s trademark purple locks had gone, replaced by a glossy, raven black. She wore a fitted leather jacket, zipped up tight, and jeans that showed every curve of her hips and thighs.

  ‘I thought it was time for a change,’ she said carelessly.

  She followed Phoebe back to the house.

  ‘Look at you!’ Jack called. ‘Foxy lady!’

  Midnight gave him a saucy wink. ‘Thanks, Tiger…’

  By this point, Geraint had also arrived to find out what all the fuss was about. As his gaze fell on Midnight striding towards him at the front door, his mouth dropped open.

  ‘Geraint…’ Phoebe began, ‘this is my good friend, Midnight.’

  ‘How are you doing?’ Midnight nodded at him. ‘You must be the famous Geraint Phoebe has told me so much about. There can’t be two blokes of your size in Millrise.’

  Phoebe nudged her in the ribs. ‘I never said he was big,’ she whispered. She had, but she didn’t want Geraint to think that was all she ever told anyone about him. Midnight grinned.

  ‘She never told me you w
ere hot, though,’ Midnight added. Geraint simply blinked. And then he looked around as though to check it was really him Midnight was talking to. ‘So…’ she continued, ‘what is it we’re actually doing today?’

  ‘Is that all you’ve brought to wear?’ Phoebe asked, giving her friend the once over. ‘You look incredible but you’re going to get really mucked up because we’re cleaning, weeding, smashing off plaster… that sort of thing. I’ve got some spare overalls at home but…’

  ‘Chill,’ Midnight said, ‘I’ve got some old clothes in the boot but there was no way I was wearing them in public.’

  Geraint’s mouth was still open as Midnight and Phoebe reached the front door where he stood. As Midnight passed him, she tapped it shut with a finger. ‘You’ll get all sorts flying in there,’ she said.

  Jack let out a low snigger, but Geraint simply swivelled, his eyes following Midnight as she strode into the house.

  As she surveyed the entrance hall, Midnight gave a low whistle. ‘This is pretty cool.’

  ‘We think so,’ Jack said as he followed her in with Phoebe, ‘at least it will be if we ever finish it.’

  ‘We might go grey and mad, but I’ve no intention of letting this fail now,’ Phoebe added with a pointed look at her husband. ‘With the amount of money we’ve sunk into it we don’t have a lot of choice.’

  ‘True,’ Jack said. ‘And once we sell our old one we’re faced with either getting this done quickly or living in a caravan on site until we do. I don’t fancy doing that for long.’

  ‘Neither would I,’ Midnight agreed. She turned to Phoebe. ‘Want some help with awesome decorating ideas?’

  ‘Sure.’ Phoebe smiled. ‘I’d love some.’ Midnight had undergone more image changes than Madonna at Wembley Stadium and had bucket-loads of creativity, and Phoebe was looking forward to cherry-picking her best ideas to run past Jack. It would make all the dust and dirt now worthwhile.

  There was the sound of another car engine from outside, and the toot of a rather more staid horn. Phoebe rolled her eyes theatrically at Jack. ‘We might actually get to start work in a minute.’