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

by Tilly Tennant

  With only an hour before she had to be in work, movement was imperative, but it was one thing that her body really didn’t want. After dozing and almost dropping back off, she instinctively jerked herself awake and grabbed the clock again. Maybe she’d be able to get ten more minutes…

  With seconds to spare, Phoebe dashed into Hendry’s. She still felt distinctly drunk and it was taking a great deal of concentration for her to run in a straight line, let alone start a long shift being nice to the general public, particularly when the demographic she’d be dealing with contained the most demanding, whining members of it. Giving the elevator a wide berth, she dashed for the stairwell to take her up to the staff room on the second floor. She was only just in time to report for duty, but still didn’t have her elf costume or make-up on – no level of lateness would persuade her to wear that on the bus ride in.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, she bumped into a frowning Steve.

  ‘What time do you call this?’

  Phoebe looked up, trying hard to focus and decide which Steve of the two she could see she should answer. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘be right with you.’

  ‘If you’re not in that grotto in the next five minutes, grinning like Santa just stuck a feather duster up your arse, consider yourself fired.’

  The staff room was thankfully deserted – clearly everyone else was out and about on the shop floor or in the warehouse – wherever they were supposed to be at nine o’clock. Without even bothering to find somewhere private, Phoebe ripped off her jeans and t-shirt and threw them onto a chair, pulling on the elf costume as quickly as she could – buttons fastened all askew and tights crooked – before daubing bright red dots on her cheeks to match her bloodshot eyes. She dashed over to the mirror for one last check. Pretty much nothing was straight on her and she looked terrible from the wine binge the night before. Bloody hell, a real catch for someone, she mused, before remembering Steve’s threat and rushing out for another fun-packed day with Santa.

  The morning dragged as Phoebe swayed on the spot trying desperately to sober up, an unnatural grin fixed to her face as she watched the hordes come and go. By lunch she was feeling quite faint and unutterably grateful as Midnight offered to fetch her some coffee and a bagel when she went to get her own.

  Sitting in the drab staffroom – dirty and out-of-date décor completely at odds with the rest of the glittering shop – Phoebe listened to the banter of the other workers as they downed their lunch. Lunch break was taken in shifts, and it seemed that most of the others on this particular shift were seasonal workers like herself – only there to see Christmas through, after which it was time to be tossed onto the stormy sea of unemployment again, ready to cling to any passing job that would take them.

  ‘Penny for them?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Phoebe looked up to see Midnight with a bag and paper cup which she held out. ‘Oh, thanks. You’re an absolute angel.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t see you starve and you didn’t look capable of fending for yourself.’

  Phoebe gave her a weary grin. ‘You’re more right than you could possibly know. But thanks for taking pity on me.’

  Midnight waved away Phoebe’s gratitude. ‘I was going to the shop anyway.’ She sat next to Phoebe and pulled out a filled bagel from her own bag. ‘You looked like you were in your own little world then,’ she added.

  ‘I was just wondering what I was going to do after Christmas.’

  ‘You mean for a job?’

  Phoebe nodded.

  ‘Maybe you could stay on here?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much call for Santa’s elves in July.’

  ‘No, you daft cow,’ Midnight laughed. ‘They always keep one or two people on after Christmas for general sales.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be on top of Steve’s list of candidates to keep on.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’ Midnight took a bite of her bagel and continued through the side of her mouth as she ate. ‘Some of the morons that get taken on here, you’ve got to be a better prospect.’

  Phoebe shot her a wry sideways glance. ‘Thanks for that.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Maybe. But I won’t hold my breath that next year is going to be any better than the sorry pile of pants that this year has been. In fact, I might just cancel next year altogether and go and live in a cave.’

  ‘Even living in a cave won’t be far enough to get away from Jeff’s breath,’ Midnight replied carelessly.

  It was remarkable how the socially inappropriate and inept Jeff managed to morph into a half-decent Santa. The daily transformation filled Phoebe with awe. When alone with the other staff, he was a farting, belching, crotch-bothering degenerate but, suddenly, in the presence of his adoring public, he actually became Santa – complete with soothing, jolly voice and twinkly eyes. Phoebe found herself wondering whether he had some sort of Jekyll and Hyde type potion hidden in a hip flask under his seat that enabled him to transform completely into someone else.

  Just before lunch, the last family of the morning was ushered into the grotto – a man of about thirty and a little girl, sleek dark hair cut into a sweet bob and huge blue eyes. The similarity between the two of them was so uncanny that they could only be father and daughter. Phoebe guessed the girl must have been about four or five years old.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Santa asked the girl as she was led up to him by Midnight. The girl looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of awe.

  ‘Maria,’ she said in a tiny voice.

  ‘So… Maria,’ Santa said, lowering his voice too so that it was gently reassuring, ‘what would you like for Christmas this year?’

  Maria bit her lip thoughtfully for a moment. In her hand she clutched an envelope. Usually, the kids were primed and ready, armed with a list the length of the journey from John O’Groats to Lands End. But it seemed that Maria was having some sort of internal struggle. Eventually, she began.

  ‘I’d really like a toy pony, and a stable and brushes so that I can look after it. And I’d like a new pram for my doll because the wheel fell off the old one and daddy can’t fix it…’ She glanced up at the man who had come with her, now standing behind the rope, as if looking for approval. He smiled encouragingly at her and she continued. ‘And if it’s not too much extra I’d quite like… um… I’d like a girlfriend.’

  Jeff-AKA-Santa’s eyes widened. ‘You’d like a…’

  ‘Girlfriend,’ Maria repeated patiently, as though there was nothing strange in the request at all.

  ‘Is that a new toy?’ Santa asked in a bewildered voice.

  Maria shook her head firmly. ‘For my daddy,’ she elaborated.

  Santa looked slightly helplessly at Maria’s dad, whose smile was now replaced by an expression of great sadness, but also pride. ‘I’m not sure it’s the sort of thing that Santa can bring,’ Jeff said gently. ‘I think if your daddy wants a girlfriend, perhaps he has to find a lady he likes himself.’

  Maria’s gaze went to her feet. ‘Oh,’ she replied in a small voice. ‘But my daddy says he doesn’t have time… and you can do anything, can’t you?’

  Phoebe watched the little girl carefully. Maria had looked so hopeful as she arrived in the grotto, but now looked utterly downcast. What Phoebe wanted, more than anything, was to scoop this child up into her arms and hug all her sadness away. It was a new and strange emotion to her and she didn’t know what to do, except to watch the scene unfold with a growing sense of helplessness. Where was this little girl’s mother? Glancing across at the man behind the rope, it seemed from the love in his eyes that he was devoted to his daughter.

  ‘Santa will bring the pony for you, of course,’ Maria’s dad cut in, ‘but I think the elves are fresh out of girlfriends for daddies.’ He held out a hand to his daughter. ‘Shall we say thank you to Santa for agreeing to bring the other gifts and then go and look around the shop?’

  ‘I have to post the list first,’ Maria said, holding up the envelop
e as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

  ‘Come on then,’ Maria’s dad replied patiently.

  Maria took hold of his offered hand and he led her beyond Santa’s little greeting area to the glittering post box on the way through to the exit, out towards where Phoebe was also waiting with the obligatory cheap, cloned gift. She looked up expectantly and Phoebe handed her a package.

  ‘Thank you,’ Maria said politely, taking the present. ‘And, thank you too, Santa,’ Maria chirped as she suddenly remembered to express her gratitude. ‘I hope someone brings you nice presents on Christmas day,’ she added.

  Like mouthwash, Phoebe thought. But immediately she became aware of a whispered ‘ahhhh’, and saw that Midnight was watching Maria and her dad leave with a soppy look on her face.

  ‘She was adorable,’ Midnight whispered.

  She was. But there was something else that nagged at Phoebe, still shocked by the new emotion that Maria had dragged from deep within her. Without another moment’s thought, she bolted from the grotto.

  ‘Cover for me,’ she called to Midnight.

  Weaving her way down the busy toy aisle in the main shop, dodging harassed and indecisive shoppers anxiously scanning lists and checking boxes, Phoebe hunted for the thing that she knew would make Maria happy. Her gaze fell on the box – Country Girl Pony and Transporter. Yanking the box from the shelf, she scanned the crowds for a sign of the little girl and her dad.

  Just as she thought they had already left, she spotted them about to get on the escalator and raced over.

  ‘Wait!’ Phoebe panted. But her cry went unheard and they continued on their way, stepping onto the escalators. ‘Shit…’ Phoebe halted, glancing back towards the grotto where she was supposed to be on duty still, and then back at where the girl and her dad would soon disappear, never to cross her path again. Finally making a decision, she ran for the escalators, clutching the box tightly.

  She was almost there when a hand grabbed her by the arm. She spun around to see Steve glaring at her.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked, glancing at the box in Phoebe’s arms.

  ‘I’ll pay for it in a minute,’ Phoebe said, tugging herself free. ‘It’s for…’

  Without finishing her reply, she ran again. What could she tell Steve? That she suddenly felt the overwhelming and slightly nutty urge to hand out expensive toys to complete strangers? The vague idea that this might get her the sack also crossed her mind, but that didn’t seem to matter either right now. All she could think about was doing something, anything, for the little girl who had seemed so sad, like the weight of the whole universe was on her shoulders.

  Taking the moving stairs two at a time, dodging shoppers, Phoebe kept her sight trained on the gradually retreating figures of Maria and her dad. Just as they reached the doorway of the store, she caught them up.

  ‘Wait!’ Phoebe called, under the watchful eye of a security guard who looked suspiciously at the box she was carrying. ‘Maria!’ Phoebe called again.

  The little girl turned around with a puzzled frown and then tugged on her dad’s arm.

  ‘Look, it’s Santa’s elf.’

  Maria’s dad turned to see Phoebe hurrying to them. ‘You forgot this,’ she panted, holding out the box.

  ‘I don’t…’ Maria’s dad frowned. ‘We didn’t buy that.’

  ‘I know,’ Phoebe said, glancing at the security guard who seemed to be edging uncertainly towards them. ‘It’s… it’s a … it’s a gift,’ she said brightly. ‘For being our hundredth visitor today.’ She knelt down and handed the box to Maria. ‘Here you go.’

  Maria looked up at Phoebe and then her dad in complete bewilderment. ‘From Santa?’

  ‘Yep, sort of…’ Phoebe replied.

  Maria almost lost her grip on the box, which was nearly as big as she was, and her dad took it gently from her. ‘Let me hold that, honey.’

  Maria stared up at Phoebe for a moment. And then she grabbed her legs in a tight hug. ‘Thank you!’

  Phoebe noticed Steve approach the security guard, watching her carefully as he did so. They seemed to have a brief, tense conversation, still watching her all the time. Maria and her dad seemed oblivious to their exchange, however.

  ‘That’s an amazing gift,’ Maria’s dad said to a distracted Phoebe. ‘I didn’t know you had that promotion on today.’

  ‘Neither did I until ten minutes ago,’ she replied, now turning her full attention to him. For a moment, she was struck by how blue his eyes were, how thick and black his hair was, the dimples that formed at the corners of his mouth as he smiled at her reply. She tore her gaze from his and looked down at Maria, who was still hugging her legs. ‘You enjoy that toy. And now that you have what you put on your list, maybe Santa can bring you something else instead on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘Oh…’ Maria said, drawing away, her face downcast again. ‘I don’t know what else to ask for.’

  ‘Spud,’ her dad laughed, ‘it’s not the law that you ask for something else. Maybe you can wait and see what surprises he brings.’

  ‘I should ask him for something else for you,’ Maria suddenly seemed to decide. ‘Because you can’t have a girlfriend.’

  ‘She’s got this idea that I need a girlfriend…’ Maria’s dad started to explain awkwardly, ‘God only knows where from.’

  ‘Because Mummy died and you’re lonely,’ Maria replied simply. Phoebe’s heart jolted. If she had felt sorry for them before, now she felt like her heart would burst.

  Maria’s dad shrugged at Phoebe and began to blush. He knelt down to Maria, putting the box to one side and giving her a quick hug. ‘I have you… how could I be lonely?’

  ‘Yes,’ Maria said, now looking at him solemnly, ‘but when I go to bed you’re all alone downstairs.’

  ‘I don’t mind that as long as I know you’re upstairs.’

  Maria folded her arms stubbornly. ‘But who will you watch grown-up telly with?’

  ‘I can watch it by myself.’

  ‘It’s no fun by yourself. I like watching telly best when Jemima comes to watch it with me.’

  ‘Look…’ Phoebe interrupted, glancing across at Steve who was now glaring at her, although the fact that she was talking to customers clearly meant that he was saving the dressing down she was due until they had gone. ‘I’m sorry but I have to get back to work.’ She smiled down at Maria. ‘It was lovely meeting you, and I hope you enjoy the pony.’

  ‘I will,’ Maria replied.

  ‘Thanks,’ Maria’s dad said as Phoebe turned to head back into the store.

  ‘Elf lady…’ Maria called. Phoebe stopped and looked back. ‘Does Santa let you have Christmas day off?’

  ‘He does,’ Phoebe replied. ‘I get a nice quiet rest.’

  ‘Would you like to come to our house?’ Maria asked.

  Her dad looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or run and hide. ‘I think the lady has probably got her own plans for Christmas,’ he said, tucking the box under one arm and taking hold of Maria’s hand.

  ‘Yes, of course… I do,’ Phoebe said, thinking about her cold empty flat. She would be invited to her parents’ house, of course, for dinner, but there was only so much Christmas cheer you could take when the memory of what you had the Christmas before was still so raw. Somehow, the cold, empty flat seemed like the better option when faced with her mum and dad’s well-meaning but misguided attempts to cheer her up.

  He gave her a warm smile, Maria looking behind and waving as they left the shop.

  ‘Right…’ Steve’s voice came from behind her. ‘I think we’d better have a chat in my office.’

  Phoebe sighed. She might be unemployed again but at least she could ditch this itchy, sweaty elf costume.

  Leaving work after a long afternoon, Phoebe exited Hendry’s store amazed that she had managed to keep her job. After a garbled explanation to Steve – during which, quite early on, he had obviously decided he had no idea what she was
talking about – he had told her to pay for the toy and not to go fraternising (he seemed very proud of this word, accompanying it with exaggerated speech marks in the air with his fingers) with the customers in that way again. Phoebe looked suitably repentant and assured him that she wouldn’t (not on her wages anyway, she had nearly choked when she got to the till and discovered just how much her impromptu gift cost) and he had sent her back to work. She had spent the afternoon with a rumbling stomach and an increasingly frayed temper (being hungry never agreed with her mood) as her lecture from Steve had used up the entire lunch break. The only thing that had kept her from feeling completely wretched was remembering the look on Maria’s face as she’d left the shop. Maria’s dad’s face kept creeping into her thoughts too, but she diligently pushed it away. Phoebe wasn’t ready for a relationship – nothing and no one would ever heal the hole that losing Vik had made – and the way he’d reacted to his daughter’s suggestion that he needed a girlfriend made Phoebe think that he wasn’t ready for a new relationship either.

  After an evening spent quietly in front of the TV, Phoebe stretched and pushed herself up from the sofa. Going to the photo of Vik on the shelf, she picked it up and kissed the glass. ‘Time for bed, I suppose.’

  From nowhere, the image of Maria’s dad appeared in her mind, the guilt for thinking of him while she was supposed to be thinking of Vik suddenly making her feel sick to her stomach.

  Oh no you don’t, brain, we’re not going down that road. Not ever.

  Resolving to make more of an effort to be a model employee, which meant no more weird impulses to give expensive gifts to random children, Phoebe went into work early and was ready and waiting for the first kid to hit the grotto five minutes before the store opened.

  ‘You came back then,’ Midnight commented carelessly as Phoebe reported for duty. ‘I thought after Steve’s roasting yesterday you would have given the job a big up yours and quit.’

  Phoebe shrugged. ‘I’ve had worse tellings off than that.’