Mishaps in Millrise: Parts 1-4 in one book – plus a little extra…

by Tennant, Tilly

  There was a squeal of delight from the doorway and Maria raced through waving a sheet of paper in the air.

  ‘Phoebe!’ She threw herself at Phoebe, who pulled her up onto her lap and gave her a hug.

  ‘How’s it going little girlfriend?’

  ‘Good!’ Maria squeaked. She shoved the piece of paper in her hand up to Phoebe’s face again.

  ‘What’s this?’ Phoebe asked, taking it from her.

  ‘It’s my drawing from school. I had to draw a special memory so I did you and me playing Twister.’

  ‘Wow, it’s fab,’ Phoebe replied, holding it up to inspect. ‘Who’s that?’ She pointed to a third figure. ‘Is that your dad?’

  ‘Yes. He’s laughing at us.’

  ‘He’s always laughing at us. One of these days we’ll get our own back. Are you having a good time at school?’

  Maria nodded enthusiastically. ‘Mrs Poxon says I’m a good drawer.’

  ‘She’s right about that. When you’re a famous artist I don’t want you to forget my invitation to all the posh art parties.’

  Maria took the sketch back and placed it with great care on the table. She studied it for a moment, before moving it again so that the edge of the page ran parallel to the table edge. She looked thoughtfully at it again, and then finally seemed satisfied. Phoebe smiled as she watched. For such an exuberant and energetic little girl Maria could be impossibly neat and meticulous at times, almost beyond her years. Sometimes she reminded Phoebe of herself as a child. Phoebe had always been the one who worried about the other kids at school, the first to offer comfort at the scene of a scraped knee or banged head, always afraid that a spat between her parents over an open milk carton or other such nonsense would snowball into divorce, and most likely to win ‘caring friend’ awards at school. It wasn’t a bad thing, she reflected, but it made her soft and she felt it had held her back in life. And then, the one moment she had stopped caring had ended in tragedy. If she had pushed Vik under that bus herself she couldn’t have felt any more responsible for his death. They had been drunk, he was messing about on the edge of the pavement and she should have stopped him, not stood there laughing like an idiot. If she had cared more in that one second, she would have seen the dangers, but she hadn’t.

  ‘Hungry?’ Jack asked as he brought two glasses over to the table. ‘I’ve made far too much, as usual.’

  ‘I put the pineapple on!’ Maria said. ‘I made a face on yours!’

  ‘What about yours?’ Phoebe asked.

  Maria shook her head. ‘Not so much on mine. Daddy’s looks like a car.’

  ‘A pineapple car? This I have to see.’

  ‘You’re about to,’ Jack said, wafting scorching air away as he opened the oven door. The aromas of sweet bread and tomato and rich herbs that had subtly hung in the air on Phoebe’s arrival now burst upon the kitchen with force. She realised just how hungry she was as her mouth began to water.

  ‘That smells amazing!’ Phoebe gave an exaggerated sniff of the air, suddenly aware that she looked like the Bisto kid and probably a bit silly.

  Jack smiled. He loved to cook for anyone who would let him and the obvious pride he showed when anyone complimented his food was second only to the pride he showed in Maria. Phoebe had asked him once why he hadn’t become a chef and he said that doing it for a living would suck all the joy out of it. He loved the ritual of cooking, being able to take his time and absorbing himself in the scents and flavours of culinary invention. Tonight’s meal was only a quick tea by his standards, but would have taken Phoebe three times as long to prepare and produced a lot more stress. At the end of all that it still wouldn’t have been anywhere near as good.

  ‘Want me to help with anything?’ Phoebe asked as she watched him pull three perfect pizzas from the oven, one after the other.

  ‘Only to eat them.’

  ‘Oh, you know I can do that, and make a pretty fine job of it too.’

  Jack placed the smallest pizza in front of an empty chair and Maria obediently hopped from Phoebe’s lap and took her place at the table.

  ‘Want me to cut it?’ Phoebe asked as Jack went to fetch the other two. Maria nodded and Phoebe quickly scored it and separated into manageable slices.

  ‘So…’ Jack began as he slid their pizzas onto plates and sat down. ‘Tell me what happened at the interview.’ He poured a glass of white wine and pushed it towards her.

  ‘It was awful.’

  Jack stared at her for a moment. ‘It can’t have been that bad, surely?’

  ‘It was, trust me. I don’t think I want to talk about it and I certainly don’t want tomorrow to come. I’ll have to go through the humiliation all over again when they tell me exactly why I didn’t get the job.’

  Jack gave an encouraging smile. ‘People always assume they’ve performed worse than they have. It’s natural to have doubts when it’s something that important.’

  ‘It’s not about doubts or anxiety on my part; it’s a cold hard fact. First of all I messed up on the presentation…’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a presentation.’

  ‘Neither did I until I got to work.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘I wrote a quick one with Midnight.’

  ‘It didn’t go well?’

  ‘It was a rap.’

  Jack bit back a grin. ‘Sorry… It’s just that I can’t imagine you rapping somehow.’

  ‘That’s a good thing. I think the interview panel are signing up for hypnotherapy as we speak so that they can forget they’ve seen me rapping too. It wasn’t pretty.’

  ‘But it wasn’t just a presentation. How did you get on with the interview questions?’ He spread some rocket on his slice of pizza and bit into it. Maria watched him before examining her own slice and then copying him. She screwed up her nose and fished the sprig of rocket from her mouth again.

  ‘I suppose I answered some of the questions ok. I was just such a mess after the rapping fiasco,’ Phoebe continued. ‘I think I overdid some too but it was all a bit of a blur to be honest.’

  Jack swallowed his mouthful. ‘They’d be crazy not to give you the job. I would.’

  ‘Unfortunately, you don’t own Hendry’s.’ Her mind went back to the granite-featured Mr Hendry. ‘There’ll be jobs coming up all the time, I suppose,’ she mused as she sipped her drink. As always, Jack had managed to chill it to precisely the right temperature.

  ‘That’s a good way of looking at it. Stay positive. And the next one will be easier because you’ll have more of an idea what to expect.’ He found some more rocket in his side-salad and laid it over another slice of pizza. ‘Honestly, you’re braver than me. I go to pieces in situations like that. It’s lucky I don’t have to do things like job interviews because I’m sure we’d be poverty stricken if I did.’

  Phoebe sighed. ‘It would be great to be self-employed. I just wouldn’t know what to do.’

  ‘You could always look at web design like me. There’s a huge market for it.’

  ‘I couldn’t even upload some photos onto Facebook the other day. I don’t think anything remotely IT-related is for me. As it is I would have had to rely on a crash course in social media to do the promotions job, which I was kind of hoping you’d help me with. Besides, I quite like working at Hendry’s. And yes, I know that sounds weird as I’m always moaning about it.’

  ‘I’d like to work at Hendry’s,’ Maria chipped in. They both turned to her and she beamed across the table at them.

  ‘It’s a lot of fun,’ Phoebe replied, ‘but it’s still work and not playing. You can’t always do what you want. Although…’ she paused and nibbled at a carrot baton, ‘Midnight seems to get away with doing what she wants…’

  ‘Is she behaving?’ Jack asked with a chuckle.

  ‘For the moment. And she was great today, really helped me out with the rap. It’s just sometimes I wish she’d be a little less…’

  ‘I know,’ Jack said, glancing at Maria who had turne
d her attention back to her meal. ‘So, they’re going to tell you about the job tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes. But I won’t hold my breath.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. I’m terrible at CPR.’ Jack smiled. He looked at Maria. ‘You want some more?’ he asked. Phoebe looked across to see that while they had been talking Maria had cleared her plate.

  ‘I’m full now.’ Maria rubbed her tummy with a grin.

  ‘Too full for cake?’

  Maria’s grin spread. ‘Not that full, Daddy!’

  ‘Me neither,’ Phoebe added. ‘If I leave any pizza do I still get some? I’m worried about running out of room for your amazing cake.’

  ‘What kind of example is that?’ Jack laughed. ‘Of course you have to eat all your pizza before you get any pudding.’

  Phoebe gave him an exaggerated pout and Maria giggled.

  ‘Granny came today,’ she squeaked suddenly.

  ‘She did?’ Phoebe asked, wondering at the speed with which Maria’s thoughts seemed to lurch from one subject to another. ‘Did you have fun?’

  ‘Granny doesn’t play,’ Maria returned sagely. ‘She only drinks tea and talks.’

  ‘A lot,’ Jack added.

  ‘Which granny?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘Granny Carol,’ Maria said.

  ‘My mum,’ Jack clarified as Phoebe looked to him.

  Phoebe still hadn’t met Jack’s parents. Neither had he met hers. She had her own reasons for avoiding that event for as long as possible and she suspected that Jack was doing the same. He always seemed to arrange visits for times when she wouldn’t be there, or to make certain that there was no chance of overlap. She didn’t really mind; it would be another awkward hurdle that she could do without and she liked things just as they were right now – no approval to seek, no stilted conversations with prospective in-laws who were really hoping you wouldn’t make it that far – just an easy time with Jack and Maria that got more comfortable and familiar every day. She was just beginning to feel that she knew them and everything else could wait, at least for now. Vik’s mother had always been the epitome of courteous tolerance, but Phoebe could tell that she was disappointed that Vik hadn’t brought home a nice Sikh girl instead of this non-denomination disaster. The first time he had met Phoebe’s parents hadn’t been much better. They weren’t racist, they said, they just hadn’t expected her to date anyone but English men. Phoebe had patiently explained that Vik was probably more English than they were and although they had smiled and nodded in the right places she knew that they were going to be shell-shocked for some time to come by the culture clash. She and Vik had put off getting both sets of parents together for as long as possible, but had eventually decided that Christmas would be as good a time as any. At least there would be plenty of booze around to soften the ordeal. But it had never happened.

  As she looked at Jack now, smiling over at Maria, she thought there was no way her parents could fail to love him. She just hoped that when the time came, his parents would feel the same way about her.

  ‘She wanted to stay for tea but Daddy said we were going out,’ Maria said.

  Phoebe looked sharply at Jack. He gave an awkward shrug.

  ‘I thought we were going to Pizza Hut,’ Maria added, ‘but I didn’t mind when Daddy changed his mind after Granny left because I liked putting the pineapple on.’

  ‘It’s… just not a great time…’ Jack began a hasty explanation. ‘You know… there’s stuff going on and she’s not in the best of moods… but it’s totally not about you… before you start thinking that.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain. I know that it’s early days for us.’ Phoebe thought back to the times during the past few months when she had wondered whether to introduce Jack to her own parents. But she had decided it was too soon, just like he seemed to have done. In fact, she hadn’t even told her parents she was seeing someone, although she suspected they had worked it out. But how long should she and Jack wait before too soon became too late? Might it seem as though they had something to hide, something to be ashamed of? At what point would one or both of them feel that the other was withholding the meeting because they were embarrassed or because they felt their parents wouldn’t approve?

  ‘We’ll do it soon, I promise,’ Jack said, as if reading her thoughts. ‘I mean, I really want them to meet you. Maria’s talked about you non-stop this afternoon. I just want the timing to be better… you know?’

  What Phoebe felt he wasn’t adding, was so I can prepare them, make sure they don’t have any reason to disapprove of you. But she said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention to her salad and began to dig around in it with her fork.

  ‘Phoebe…?’

  She looked up at Jack.

  ‘It’s ok, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She pushed the corners of her mouth up in a bright smile. ‘Of course it is. The same goes for me too.’

  ‘Granny says she can’t wait to see what Granny May has to say about it all,’ Maria said into the ensuing silence. If Jack had looked awkward before he now looked as though he wanted the foundations of the house to swallow him up.

  Phoebe looked at Jack. ‘Granny May? As in…’

  ‘Rebecca’s mother,’ Jack confirmed.

  Of course Phoebe had always known that Rebecca’s mother would have more than a vested interest in the girls that Jack was bringing into her granddaughter’s life.

  ‘They’re very good friends,’ Jack continued, ‘they see each other every week.’

  ‘I imagine that’s lovely for you and Maria,’ Phoebe said, wondering why a sudden spike of jealousy had lodged in her heart. Rebecca was dead and it was only natural that those left behind would want to stay close, if only for Maria’s sake.

  ‘Sometimes they take me to the park together,’ Maria said, nodding her little head. ‘And they take me for cake at the coffee shop too.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’ Phoebe forced another smile. She seemed to be doing a lot of that this evening. ‘What a lucky spud you are.’

  ‘Uh huh…’ Maria crammed a carrot baton into her mouth and chewed solemnly.

  ‘Maybe we should do it,’ Jack said suddenly. Phoebe shot him a questioning glance. ‘Do the parent thing,’ he elaborated. ‘Get it over and done with. What do you think?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Phoebe replied slowly. ‘But how about we hang on for just a little while longer though?’

  Jack looked relieved at this suggestion. ‘Ok,’ he nodded. ‘Let’s give it a bit longer.’

  *

  ‘Steve’s been after you.’ Midnight handed Phoebe a mug.

  Phoebe’s night had been disturbed and restless. When she had managed to sleep her dreams had been full of Vik and photos of a dead woman she’d never met. And in her periods of wakefulness her thoughts had been preoccupied by worries about what the morning at work would bring. When the alarm had gone off, Phoebe had only been asleep for about half an hour and now, two hours later, she still felt groggy.

  ‘Did he say why?’

  ‘No. Just wanted to know what time you’d be in.’

  ‘And did you tell him if he hung on I’d be here any minute?’ Phoebe asked, panicking that he’d assume she was late. Today was definitely not the day to sow that little seed...

  ‘I told the lazy sod to go and check his rota. I don’t get paid enough to do his bloody job for him.’

  Phoebe groaned inwardly. She handed the mug back. ‘I’d better go and find him.’

  ‘Chill… he’ll come looking again if it’s important.’

  ‘That’s just it…’ Phoebe called as she left the staffroom, ‘it might be really important and I don’t think my nerves can take it this morning.’

  She met The Office Lady on the stairs. Out of context and away from her natural habitat she looked paler than ever and rather like a vampire from a fifties horror film.

  ‘I was just coming to get you,’ Office Lady said. ‘Sue asked Steve if you were in yet and he was supposed to be checking but he hasn
’t come back.’

  ‘Oh,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘Could you come up to the office with me now?’

  ‘Yeah, no worries.’ Phoebe followed as Office Lady turned back up the stairs, her stomach doing back flips, front flips, triple pikes with half turns – any manoeuvre that could make her feel sick. This was the hour. Part of her didn’t want to hear what they had to say so that, just for a short while, she could carry on pretending there might be the tiniest chance of success. But she also wanted to get the ordeal out of the way so she could put it behind her and move on.

  The unique smell of damp, of old lunches, dusty stationery and an overheating printer assailed her as she followed Office Lady in.

  ‘Dixon will be up in a minute,’ Office Lady said before taking a seat at her cluttered desk and then promptly ignoring Phoebe as she returned to her computer monitor. Phoebe stood for a moment before deciding she’d feel less conspicuous sitting down. Her gaze travelled the room. There were placards and posters taped everywhere bearing slogans like ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps’ and ‘Too bad the people who know it all can’t do it all’, along with photos of kittens falling off washing lines and penguins with photoshopped umbrellas and briefcases. There was a wad of newspaper stuffed under one leg of the desk, and the PC Office Lady worked on looked like an old Commodore 64.

  Still, she mused, Office Lady looked as though she was right at home amongst the mayhem and decay. Her range of mugs bearing more humorous legends took pride of place on a shelf where she had also stacked boxes of cornflakes, tins of biscuits, overripe fruit and a twelve-pack of cheap cola. If there was ever a three minute warning whilst she was at work, Phoebe knew where she was heading. While the rest of the staff were busy eating each other downstairs, she’d be dining out on peach slices and Garibaldi biscuits.

  Her musings were interrupted by Dixon’s entrance.

  ‘Phoebe…’ he smiled broadly at her. ‘How are you this morning?

  ‘Apprehensive,’ Phoebe replied automatically, cursing herself even as she said it for not processing her thoughts before she expressed them. It was something she never seemed to master no matter how much trouble it got her into.