‘How do you know I want it to?’
Phoebe raised her eyebrows as she sucked at the straw in a lush looking glass of strawberry milkshake and for once, Midnight looked as though she was lost for a reply.
Two hours later than promised, Midnight returned Phoebe to Jack. The sun was sinking, throwing long shadows across the front lawn, but the afternoon was still warm. It wouldn’t be long before a chill crept into the air, the balmy nights of summer already passed, but Phoebe relished the feeling of the sun on her back as she and Midnight wandered across to where Jack was talking to a man she hadn’t seen before. They had both been surveying the garden as Midnight’s car pulled onto the drive, and they watched now as the two women approached.
‘This is Harrison… the landscape gardener I told you about,’ Jack said to Phoebe as they drew level.
‘Oh, yes!’ Phoebe said, shaking Harrison’s hand. ‘Jack’s client!’
‘That’s me,’ Harrison smiled. ‘Jack’s always looked after me so when he said he’d got this project, I thought I could return the favour.’
‘I think your favour might be a little more hard work than any of mine,’ Jack laughed. ‘All I do is click and push keys.’
‘But you do a brilliant job of it.’ Harrison turned back to Phoebe, but then his gaze was drawn away, resting very obviously on Midnight as he spoke, as if he couldn’t pull it away no matter how hard he tried. ‘I’m going to draw up some plans based on what Jack has told me; is there anything you particularly want me to include?’
‘We discussed it all so I’m happy that Jack knows what I want.’
Harrison seemed to shake himself at the sound of Phoebe’s reply, and he turned to her with a smile, though it seemed as if his eyes longed to be on Midnight again.
Phoebe took a moment to appraise him. He was tall, muscular, dark haired and tanned, mid to late twenties at a guess. He was attractive, there was no doubt. Beneath his thin shirt she could see the outline of a nipple ring, and he wore a full, trendy beard. It looked as if he wasn’t a stranger to the odd mosh pit and liked a pint. He was definitely Midnight’s type as far as Phoebe could tell. And he was definitely interested. This was classic Midnight territory, and Phoebe was curious to see how it would play out. Would Midnight be able to resist his interest?
‘In that case,’ Harrison said, ‘I’ll do some sketches and let you have some costs.’
‘Great,’ Phoebe replied.
Harrison turned to Midnight. ‘Are you involved in the renovations?’
‘Not really,’ Midnight replied. ‘Unless you count simply being here and adding awesome to the place.’
Harrison grinned, and Midnight returned it with her most flirtatious smile. Phoebe would have sworn that Midnight’s breast size swelled by ten inches, right there on the spot, if it weren’t anatomically impossible. She certainly wasn’t thinking about Geraint now. There had been something vaguely unsettling about the notion of Midnight being in love, and it was comforting to see that some things stayed just as Phoebe had always known them.
‘Midnight has been brilliant,’ Jack cut in. ‘She’s helped loads with the clearing out and she’s got some great ideas for design once we start to decorate.’
‘Yeah?’ Harrison looked at Midnight hungrily. ‘Maybe we can get together some time, see if we can get our designs for inside and out working together.’
Phoebe glanced at Jack, a knowing smile twitching her lips.
‘Maybe,’ Midnight replied carelessly.
‘I’ll be off then,’ Harrison said. He nodded to Jack and Phoebe. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something to show you.’
‘No problem,’ Jack said. ‘And there’s no huge rush just yet either so don’t worry.’
Harrison turned to Midnight. ‘I’ve got a card in the van… if you follow me down I’ll get it for you and you can give me a call when you’re ready…’
A card in the van? Phoebe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He might as well have flicked a condom at Midnight and pulled his trousers down. He might be a good gardener, but he was no good at subtlety.
Jack curled an arm around Phoebe, and they watched Harrison and Midnight walk down to his van together.
‘Hmmm… I was going to tell you about this weird conversation I had with Midnight over lunch,’ Phoebe said, leaning into him.
‘Was?’
‘I think it was a false alarm. Normal service, as they say, has been resumed.’
There was a peal of laughter from the direction of the van as Midnight flicked her hair and punched Harrison playfully on the arm. Phoebe only hoped that her friend would do the right thing by Geraint.
With a wave in their direction, Phoebe and Jack watched Harrison climb back into his van and pull away, leaving Midnight strolling back to the house.
‘Did you get his card?’ Phoebe asked.
Midnight held it up.
‘And you’re going to call him?’
‘Maybe. He’s got some good ideas.’
Jack gave a grin and turned to go back into the house. ‘I’m sure there’s some plaster in a bucket drying out up there, so I suppose someone ought to get back to it.’
‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ Phoebe said.
‘I’m going anyway,’ Midnight said, ‘got things to do, so don’t leave Jack waiting on my account.’
‘What about Geraint?’
‘What about him?’
‘The thing with Harrison and the card. What are you going to do about Geraint?’
‘Nothing.’ Midnight frowned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about you getting numbers for other men. Don’t break Geraint’s heart, he doesn’t deserve it.’
‘Okay…’ Midnight said. ‘Phoebe… can I explain something to you? Just because a hot guy gives me a card with his number on – which is a business card, in case it needed clarifying for you – that doesn’t automatically mean I’m going to have sex with him.’
‘But you fancy him?’
‘Of course I do. Anyone would. Still doesn’t mean I’m going to shag him. You see hot guys on the street all the time – do you want to shag them?’
‘No, but –’
‘Don’t insult me then.’
Phoebe felt the blush rise to her cheeks. ‘Sorry…’ she mumbled.
Midnight glowered at her. But then she broke into a grin. ‘I did think about it though.’
Faster than she would have liked, winter was approaching, but Phoebe’s dream house was still a long way from reality. They did now have a roof, lights that didn’t blow up every time someone switched them on and a plumbing system slightly more advanced than a water pump in the yard, but there were still floors to be laid, yet more walls to be plastered, brickwork to be repaired and pointed, and heating pipes to lay so that the upstairs rooms wouldn’t be ice cubes in the snowy weather, not to mention the jobs that could wait if they had to, like actual paint on the walls. The caravan they now lived in was parked in the garden of their new house, which was great because it meant they were always on site, but also terrible, because they were always on site, and on days when things had been particularly trying, there was simply no escape from it.
Phoebe was woken gently by Jack on one such evening. She found herself stretched out on the long caravan sofa. The little gas fire in the corner pumped out dry heat and was the only light in the silent room.
‘The kids are both in bed,’ Jack whispered. ‘You should be too by the look of things.’
Phoebe pushed herself up, every joint protesting. She was stiff and sore and very tired. ‘What time is it?’
‘Just after nine.’
‘Hell, I can’t be in bed before ten, it does my street cred no good.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell Midnight if you don’t.’
‘I can’t even remember falling asleep.’
‘Your head was nearly in your soup at tea. Maria decided to cover you up here when you nodded off, little swe
etie, but even though it was well-intentioned I thought I’d better wake you or you won’t sleep tonight.’
‘I will definitely sleep tonight. There is nothing that could keep me awake after the day we’ve had. I don’t know how you have so much energy.’
Jack sat next to her and pulled her close. ‘I don’t have energy… I have you. It’s you and Maria and Charlotte who keep me going. You all keep me focused. I want this to be finished and to be perfect for you all.’
‘Now I feel guilty. All I want is for it to be finished.’
‘We’ll get through this. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but we will.’
‘It really doesn’t seem like it,’ Phoebe sighed. ‘In fact, it feels like the worst decision we’ve ever made.’
Jack pulled away to look at her. ‘You really feel that way?’
‘No… of course I don’t. Ignore me, it’s just the exhaustion talking.’
‘Hang in there, Phoebe. We’re on the home stretch, I promise. Just stick with me, okay?’
Phoebe fell into his embrace. ‘Okay. I’ll try but I can’t promise I won’t get grumpy from time to time.’
‘You can be as grumpy as you like, as long as you’re with me.’
‘I’m with you,’ Phoebe said. She just wished she felt as confident as Jack sounded.
Phoebe woke to the sound of voices outside. Lots and lots of voices. As their caravan (and, indeed, their house) was not within earshot of their nearest neighbours, Phoebe was confused. The space in the bed next to her was empty. Was Jack involved in some sort of dispute outside? She was just about to leap up and reach for her dressing gown when she heard laughter. So no dispute. It was followed by another laugh rising above the din, and Phoebe would have recognised it anywhere. She got to her knees and leaned across the bed to pull the curtains open a crack.
Outside, there were easily thirty members of her dad’s historical battle re-enactment society, gathered around her father, who obviously found something very funny as he was laughing in his own unique and hearty way. Jack was standing next to him, hands dug in his pockets, his hair sticking up as though he hadn’t long been awake himself, grinning up at Hugh.
Phoebe scampered off the bed and pulled on some clothes. After tying her hair back and making a quick check on the still sleeping children, she hurried outside.
‘Dad!’ she called.
Everyone turned at her arrival. She was greeted by a chorus of hellos and good mornings.
‘Morning, love!’ Hugh shouted back. ‘Hope we didn’t wake you.’
‘Oh, that’s alright. What on earth is going on? I hope you’re not thinking of using our garden for a battle.’
‘Ha ha, we’ve got slightly bigger fields than this available to us. We’ve come to help out.’
Phoebe stared at him. ‘Help out?’ she repeated.
‘You know…’ He nodded a head at the front of the house. ‘With your little problem.’
Phoebe now stared at the others. ‘All of you?’
‘No, we just fancied a day out,’ Hugh said. ‘Of course all of us. Why else do you think everyone is here?’
‘It’s just…’
‘Amazing and generous?’ Jack finished for her.
‘Yes… that…’
‘Well, we had a meeting and we figured that for what you need doing, it wouldn’t take us more than a day or two. There are a few jobs we can’t do, of course, and we’ll have to leave those to your tradesmen. But the rest we’ll have a crack at. We don’t want you and Jack and those kiddies stuck in that caravan come the winter, do we?’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Phoebe threw herself into his arms. ‘I don’t know what to say!’
‘Steady on; it’s not just me here, love!’
‘Thank you everyone,’ Phoebe said as she looked around at all the familiar faces. They really were an extraordinary bunch of people, who were more like a family than many families Phoebe had met in her time. When one society member needed help, the others were always there for them. As her gaze ran over the little crowd, she realised there was a significant omission from the assembly. Geraint was always where the others were. He had helped with the renovations whenever he could. It wasn’t that he owed them anything, or that Phoebe had any right to demand his presence, but she couldn’t help thinking it was strange. But at that moment she turned to see Maria calling her from the caravan steps, and realised that asking her dad about it would have to wait.
‘I’m coming now, spud,’ Jack called as he jogged over to his daughter.
‘So… what are we tackling today?’ Hugh asked Phoebe. ‘We’re at your disposal until five, so use us wisely.’
‘Now that you’re all here I can’t remember all the jobs that need doing,’ Phoebe laughed. ‘I suppose the plastering needs finishing… Jack taught himself how to do it, he’s not exactly a pro but –’
‘I can plaster!’ A tall, gangly man in his sixties raised his hand. ‘Did my whole house last year and the wife says it’s a lovely finish.’
‘Thank you, Bernard,’ Phoebe smiled. ‘That would be amazing. There’s pointing to do too…’
‘No problem!’ someone else called.
‘Kitchen units to be fitted…’
‘We’ll do that, eh Paul?’ another man shouted, and his friend nodded in agreement.
Before long, everyone had volunteered for various tasks. The scene was reminiscent of one of those TV shows where some down-on-their-luck family was treated by a whole host of professionals to a make-over on their falling-down house, and Phoebe was feeling strangely redundant as she realised there wasn’t really a lot for her to do. She decided to drive out to a nearby supermarket with the children and buy snacks for everyone to go with the teas and coffees they’d need mid-morning to keep them going. It didn’t feel terribly productive, but at least she was doing something.
An hour later she was back and the house was a hive of activity. The air was filled with the sounds of hammering, sawing, laughter and whistling. Someone had a radio blasting out old Motown classics, while some of the men sang along (at least, Phoebe guessed that nobody was actually strangling a cat). Jack was sitting on the caravan steps and he held his arms out for baby Charlotte, who was happily gnawing on a fist. Maria had stopped helping Phoebe carry bags and was now diligently examining a patch of daisies.
‘Your dad won’t let me near the place to help,’ said Jack. ‘He says they’ve got it all under control and that we’re to take a break because we must be worked into the ground.’
‘Ah… I think that may be my fault.’ Phoebe gave him a sheepish smile. ‘Last time I was over there I was moaning a bit about how tired I was. But it was just a general grumble. I didn’t mean for all this to happen.’
‘He obviously took it very seriously. I have to admit to feeling really guilty about sitting here.’
‘Me too. I’ll talk to Dad. We have to do something, after all, it is our house.’
‘Exactly what I said. Now that you’re back, how about I sneak in and get cracking? He’d notice you in there before he noticed me and I think I can stay out of his way until lunch time.’
‘Go on,’ Phoebe smiled, ‘I know you’re dying to. Just don’t let him catch you!’
It took a whole two hours for Hugh to catch Jack. According to Jack’s later report when everyone had gone home, he had clapped his son-in-law on the back and given him a wide grin. ‘Alright lad,’ he’d said, ‘I don’t suppose I can really stop you getting stuck in as it’s your place.’
Phoebe, meanwhile, had kept herself busy with the children, her mind wandering. While she was glad of the break, she also wanted to be part of the team. Sitting out didn’t suit her, and it gave her too much time to think about things that were really none of her business, not to mention unproductive. Eventually though, as he came down to the caravan to say goodbye at the end of the day, Phoebe plucked up the courage to ask her dad about Geraint. More specifically, his absence.
Plucked up the courage perhaps was
n’t quite the right phrase. It wasn’t as if her dad was scary or anything, but for some reason it made her nervous. Perhaps it was because Jack kept telling her that she was best staying out of it – and he was probably right. Perhaps it was also because Midnight herself would disapprove of what she’d see as meddling. But Phoebe could stand it no longer: the question wouldn’t leave her head until it got asked. But the problem was, once it had been, it only led to more questions.
‘Geraint?’ Hugh said, scratching his beard. ‘Aye, that’s a funny one. I don’t know what’s got into him. Happen he’s having an early mid-life crisis or something; always sneaking off, not answering his phone, not telling folk where he’s been. Not that we need to know, of course, but he doesn’t usually go about things like this. Missed quite a few meetings now too. There’s a big battle next month – council expo – I just hope he’s going to turn up for that one; it’d be a shame for him to miss it.’
This was bad. This meant he was already too close to Midnight, didn’t it? It wasn’t wise for him to forsake the rest of his life and friends for someone as flighty and unpredictable as her. Phoebe resolved to have a quiet word with him when she could. Midnight wouldn’t like it if she got to find out, and neither would Jack, but she couldn’t rest until she’d at least tried to make Geraint understand what he was getting into or, failing that, had at least persuaded him to hang on to the other important things in his life. It was easy when you were in the first flush of love to forget everything else that had once mattered, but Phoebe couldn’t help thinking that Geraint was going to need all those things again once this affair was over.
Better even than one weekend of help from the Millrise Historical Battle Re-enactment Society, was that it became two. The majority of them turned out to be quite skilled workers in one area or another, and to Phoebe and Jack’s delight (and more than a little guilt) the help returned the following weekend, bringing different people with different skills. The house was barely recognisable by the time they left that Sunday night and for the first time Phoebe could see that the end was almost in sight. They owed a huge debt to her dad and his friends, one that they wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 40