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

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘I’ll take it.’

  He handed the sheet of paper over and as Phoebe glanced down at it she couldn’t help but catch her breath. Hugh appeared at her side and read over her shoulder. He looked up at the electrician.

  ‘You’re sure this is the best you can do for them, lad?’

  Martin shrugged. ‘I’m cutting it close as it is. Any less and I’ll be working for nothing.’

  ‘I’ll go and show Jack,’ Phoebe said.

  Outside, Jack was throwing rubble into a skip. He stopped and wiped a sleeve across his forehead as Phoebe approached.

  ‘You need to see this,’ she said.

  Jack took the sheet of paper from her.

  ‘Bloody hell. We’re going to have to rethink the budget.’

  ‘Decorating will have to wait, that’s for sure.’

  Jack gave her an unconvincing smile. ‘I’m sure we’ll manage it all somehow.’

  ‘Hmmm… but are you going to tell Maria that she has to live on beans and stale bread from now on or shall I?’

  Jack laughed. ‘It might not come to that yet but I’m glad to see that you haven’t lost your sense of humour.’

  ‘I’m saving that for three months down the line when I have to pawn all my shoes.’

  Phoebe’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and unlocked the screen. ‘Midnight,’ she said, raising her eyebrows as she read the text message. ‘Not quite as coy about her night as Geraint is, but I was right, she did take him home. Honestly, that girl.’

  ‘What does she say?’

  ‘She wants to know if I can get his phone number because she forgot to ask when he left her this morning.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it? It means more than a one night stand.’

  ‘And she also says she feels as though she’s been riding Nelson’s Column all night… eurgh!’

  Jack roared with laughter. ‘Has she gone to work?’

  ‘I suppose so. I hope she hasn’t shared that last revelation with Dixon, I’m not sure his delicate sensibilities could stand it.’

  ‘Or he might be mad with jealousy that nobody has ever compared his John Thomas to Nelson’s Column before. I know I am.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry; you’re small but perfectly formed.’

  ‘Oi! Less of the small!’

  ‘Alright, slightly larger than average and perfectly formed,’ Phoebe giggled.

  ‘Better.’

  ‘Besides, I imagine everyone is small compared to Geraint.’

  ‘What’s that?’ They turned to see Geraint wandering over munching one of Jack’s muffins.

  ‘I was just saying you’re a bit taller than average so you must struggle for shoes,’ Phoebe said, trying to look less guilty than she was feeling for gossiping about him. ‘Isn’t that right, Jack?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Because you’re the size of Nelson’s Column.’

  Phoebe almost choked trying to contain the peal of laughter that threatened to burst from her. Geraint gave her a worried look.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Yes,’ Phoebe said, trying desperately to compose herself. She was saved from further explanation by the sound of a van coming up the drive.

  ‘Oh,’ Jack said with obvious sarcasm, ‘how good of the roofers to join us before lunch.’

  ‘Now, don’t get narky,’ Phoebe warned. ‘They may be late but they’re cheap and willing to use the tiles dad picked up so I don’t want them upset enough to leave us in the lurch.’

  ‘Still, it’s a bloody liberty.’

  ‘Yes. But let them do our roof and then you can tell them.’

  ‘Okay, you’re right. I just hope their roofing is better than their timekeeping. I feel like this house is already getting the better of us.’

  The next month was a flurry of activity. One day seemed to melt into the next and all Phoebe could recall in years to come was that most of the hours they contained were spent covered in plaster dust or paint, apart from the few hours she spent changing nappies and accidentally falling asleep on the sofa with Maria and Charlotte while Jack desperately worked into the night to keep up with his clients and continue to earn their keep. The only quality time she shared with Jack was over a cement mixer or drill. It was desperately hard work, but it should have felt good; they were building a future together with every brick that was laid and every tile that was grouted, a future as solid as the house itself. So why didn’t Phoebe feel good?

  The truth was that the workload and the task they had set themselves were taking their toll on both Phoebe and Jack’s mental reserves. Jack had snapped at Maria, more than once, without even realising he was doing it, and Phoebe had found herself doing the same with her parents whenever they quizzed her about the house. At least a quick sale on Jack’s place had now gone through, and they’d bought a suitable caravan (though the prospect of living in that wasn’t thrilling) so they could stop paying two mortgages. It was a big plus, but the day they would be able to move into their dream place still seemed so remote. Phoebe tried to be grateful for the opportunity they had been given for a dream place at all – she was well aware how lucky she was and recalled only too well the damp flat she had lived in only a few years before. Neither Phoebe nor Jack would say it to the other, but they both needed a break, and it didn’t look as though it would be coming any time soon.

  It was on one of these days, when every little task seemed like a mountain to climb, that Midnight turned up to help. She let herself in through the open front door and shouted from the hallway.

  ‘Hurray!’ Jack called. ‘The cavalry is here! We’re upstairs in the first bedroom.’

  A few moments later, Midnight appeared at the doorway. ‘I really don’t need to know about your weird sex life,’ she said, cocking an eyebrow at them both. Phoebe was covered in plaster dust, busy mixing a new batch, and Jack was up a set of ladders, applying it to the wall.

  ‘Yeah…’ Jack said with a grin as he descended the ladder, ‘we’re filthy us. Plaster and dirt is a real turn on.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t done it in here, though.’

  Phoebe shot Jack a knowing smile, although the days when they had seen this place as a glorious sexual playground seemed a million years ago. Now, they really did only work when they were there.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve turned up,’ Jack said to Midnight, ‘I was going to ask you a favour.’

  ‘Really?’ Phoebe shot him a look. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her.

  ‘Fire away,’ Midnight said amiably. A bit too amiably, Phoebe thought. She was beginning to smell a set up.

  ‘Will you take Phoebe for a break?’

  And there it was. Midnight’s arrival was obviously no accident, and Phoebe had strong suspicions that the two of them had arranged something before today. Had they been discussing her in secret? The idea was weird, and Phoebe wasn’t sure she liked it. ‘I don’t need a break,’ she said.

  ‘Yes you do.’

  ‘Then you do too.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Jack said. ‘I love getting stuck in but I know it’s been harder for you.’

  Phoebe folded her arms. ‘Patronising much?’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Jack said. ‘You look exhausted. I just don’t want you to overdo things and make yourself ill.’

  Phoebe frowned. ‘Stop fussing.’

  ‘I can’t help fussing when you look like you need fussing over.’

  ‘You do look like shit,’ Midnight agreed carelessly.

  ‘Wow, I had no idea you could be so complimentary,’ Phoebe replied in a wry tone.

  ‘I’m not complimenting you. Come for lunch.’

  ‘Midnight…’ Phoebe began.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ her friend cut in, ‘you’re too busy, can’t expect everyone else to work if you’re slacking, blah, blah, blah… Nobody else has two kids waking them at night and at stupid o’clock in the morning. And as you won’t go home to sleep, come for lunch instead.’
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  ‘I don’t know…’ Phoebe glanced at Jack for support but he just stared pointedly at her. It was obvious she’d get nothing from that quarter. She was about to launch another argument when Midnight anticipated it and cut her off again.

  ‘We’ll try that new diner in town.’

  ‘What diner?’

  Midnight cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Just goes to show how much you keep up with real life at the moment. It opened last week with a great big fuss. It’s done up like the one from Back to the Future 2 and has constant eighties music playing. It’s an awesome place that just happens to be owned by good friends of mine.’

  ‘Eighties music?’ It sounded like it could be fun. Vik had been crazy about all things eighties and while the idea would once have reduced her to tears, now Phoebe could reflect on the fact with fondness. Happiness with her new life had enabled her to do that. She let out a sigh that signalled defeat.

  ‘Yay! I knew you’d see sense.’ Midnight grinned.

  ‘Only an hour, though,’ Phoebe warned.

  ‘Right. I’ll have to drive you home first, I’m not rocking up there with you looking like a navvy in drag.’

  ‘You’re going to drive her?’ Jack asked, suddenly looking concerned. But Midnight had already left the room and headed back to her car. He looked at Phoebe. ‘You won’t let her –’

  ‘That backfired on you, didn’t it?’ Phoebe said with a smug grin as the sound of a revving engine cut him off.

  ‘Just don’t let her go above seventy on residential streets… and no handbrake turns either.’

  ‘We’ll be like Starsky and Hutch and it will serve you right for recruiting her to your sneaky cause.’

  ‘Come on, you need a break.’

  ‘So do you.’

  ‘Not as much as you do. Go and enjoy yourself and I’ll be happy knowing that one of us is.’

  Phoebe reached up to kiss him. ‘Thank you.’

  Phoebe stood at the entrance and gazed around in awe. ‘This place is amazing!’

  The diner wasn’t as busy as she might have expected, but it was new and Phoebe was certain that once word got round it would be packed every day. It was certainly nice to have an alternative to The Bounty, good as Stav’s lunches were. The décor was a faithful reproduction of the eighties themed café in the second Back to the Future film, complete with props such as Marty McFly’s hoverboard hanging from the ceiling and Marty Junior’s shiny cap gracing the till. A jukebox stood in the corner next to a vintage Atari arcade game, and video screens hung around the room were currently playing Duran Duran.

  ‘It’s clever, eh?’ Midnight grinned. At that moment, a shout went up from across the restaurant and a well-built man sporting a black and blonde streaked Mohican and ear stretchers greeted Midnight with a huge smile. He bounded over to give her a spine-crushing hug, though she seemed quite happy about a show of affection that Phoebe felt could be construed as actual bodily harm.

  ‘You finally made it!’ the man cried. ‘We were wondering when we’d see you.’ He pulled at a lock of her hair. ‘The purple has gone, then…’

  ‘Just till I get bored again. I’m thinking I might go green next time.’

  ‘Daisy will be chuffed to bits you’re here. I’ll go and shout her now; she’s in the kitchen trying to get her head around the veg order.’

  With that, he disappeared behind a heavy swinging door. Moments later, he reemerged with a petite woman, pony tail high on her head with a pencil slid into it, soft grey eyes, and cheeks peppered with freckles. She looked like an overgrown schoolgirl, and only the tight rock t-shirt and jeans stretched over a figure that Betty Boop would be proud of gave away her maturity. Phoebe instantly liked her.

  ‘Midnight!’ Daisy pulled her into a kiss on each cheek. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been, you cow?’

  ‘Sorry, Dais,’ Midnight grinned. ‘Been a bit busy.’

  ‘Making your hair look shit?’ Daisy surveyed Midnight critically.

  ‘It looks brilliant,’ Midnight said carelessly. ‘You’re just jealous.’

  ‘True,’ Daisy said. She turned to the man who had first greeted Midnight. ‘I have no idea what Applejack’s have charged us for and whether the bill is right. Go and check for me, would you?’

  ‘What makes you think Lars will have a clue if you don’t?’ Midnight asked.

  ‘He won’t, but if he’s out of the way I can talk about him,’ Daisy laughed.

  Lars gave a mock scowl, but then slouched away towards the swinging doors to do as he was asked.

  Daisy glanced at Phoebe, and then back at Midnight, clearly looking for an introduction.

  ‘Oh, yeah…’ Midnight said, ‘this is Phoebe. I work with her at Hendry’s.’

  ‘Phoebe?’ Daisy asked. ‘As in the Phoebe? Catwoman on the roof Phoebe?’

  Phoebe gave Midnight a weary raise of her eyebrows.

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy laughed, ‘she really has told almost everyone in Millrise about that.’

  ‘But only after it was already spilled… and not by me either, before you bring all that up again,’ Midnight replied with a warning look.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Phoebe said with an innocent smile.

  ‘And don’t go slagging off Applejack’s,’ Midnight added, turning to Daisy, ‘Phoebe is practically related to the guy who owns it.’

  Daisy tried to look suitably shamefaced but Phoebe suspected she didn’t really care all that much. Phoebe laughed. ‘Don’t be mean, Midnight. He’s my hubby’s uncle,’ she explained to Daisy, ‘but I still think he’s as weird as everyone else does. My hubby does, for that matter.’

  Daisy smiled. ‘Are you both staying for lunch? We’ve got some pretty cool specials today, if I do say so myself.’

  ‘Midnight hasn’t stopped telling me how good your cooking is, so I can’t wait to try whatever you bring us,’ Phoebe said.

  Daisy threw Midnight a delighted look. ‘Grab a table and I’ll bring you a menu.’

  Phoebe followed Midnight to a bright blue Formica table with glittery flecks that glinted in the sunlight from the windows. It was teamed with steel and red vinyl chairs. The whole look could have been a style disaster, but in the context of the café, it really worked.

  ‘Right…’ Phoebe began, ‘why don’t you tell me what we’re really doing here?’

  ‘Because Jack said you needed a break.’

  ‘That’s not it. When have you ever automatically agreed with something Jack has said? And even if it was, your usual answer would be a bag of chips at the ornamental gardens. So what’s up?’

  ‘Nothing…’ Midnight picked up a salt cellar, poured a little on the table and started to doodle in it.

  ‘Midnight…’ Phoebe said with a frown.

  ‘Oh, alright. It’s Geraint.’

  Phoebe’s eyes widened. ‘It seems like you’re both having fun. What’s the problem?’

  ‘I don’t know, I just feel like it’s becoming hard work.’

  ‘Why are you still seeing him then?’

  ‘I can’t stop. It’s weird. I like him.’

  ‘You like Geraint? We are talking about the same Geraint, aren’t we? And you mean like in the same way everyone else means love?’

  Midnight shrugged. ‘I can’t stop thinking about him. More specifically I can’t stop thinking about that giant redwood between his legs, but it’s still pretty weird. It’s new, this thinking about someone when they’re not there.’

  Phoebe was thoughtful for a moment. What was she supposed to make of this? While it had been obvious they were spending time together (more evident from Geraint’s furtive and guilty behaviour than from anything Midnight had given away), Phoebe had never imagined these kinds of feelings could be blossoming between them. Midnight rarely invited a man back into her bed more than a handful of times – she simply got bored of them – and even though this had been going on under her nose, Phoebe simply hadn’t seen it. Midnight and Geraint made a very odd couple indeed, but could it be
that Midnight had finally found someone who could tame her? And in the most unlikely guise of Geraint, who still watched Songs of Praise with his mum on a Sunday and wouldn’t know a grunge band if he was run over by one? Phoebe would have pointed at a lot of women for potential mates, but never Midnight, not if she’d had a million years to guess. She shook her head wonderingly.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Why do I need to do anything?’

  ‘You’re telling me about it, that’s why. It’s obviously bothering you.’

  ‘It doesn’t bother me,’ Midnight said. ‘Why can’t we just keep meeting up for sex?’

  ‘I’m not buying that. You want more, but you don’t know how to compute a new desire like that in your own head.’

  Midnight grinned. ‘See, I knew there was a reason I bothered to talk to you. How come you always make so much sense?’

  ‘Only when I’m sorting other people out. Trying to sort my own life I’m hopeless.’

  The discussion was cut short by Daisy returning with their menus and complimentery milkshakes. As Midnight chatted with her, Phoebe watched thoughtfully. Midnight deserved a bit of love in her life. On the surface she seemed perfectly content, often scornful of those who had chosen to settle down. But perhaps she was capable of being a little lonely, even if she didn’t realise it. But whatever insight Midnight did or didn’t have into her own emotional state, Geraint certainly did deserve a happy ending. It was strange, because everyone who spent more than ten minutes in Geraint’s company could tell that he was desperate to settle down, and Midnight ought to have been running for her life at the first sniff of it. Sex could be amazing, and it could go a long way towards the longevity of a relationship, but it would only go so far. Surely Midnight and Geraint had passed that point a while ago?

  Once they had ordered, Daisy left them again.

  ‘Are you going to tell him how you feel?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘No chance!’ Midnight snorted. ‘Only you’d be that stupid! The minute I tell him he’ll start thinking he can tell me what to do and then it’ll all turn to shit.’

  ‘Or… you’ll get a really lovely guy and your relationship will move up a gear.’