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

by Tennant, Tilly

  Phoebe nodded. Invisible horses. On a space hopper. Now that she thought about it any old fool could see. She grinned. ‘Are you coming to talk to the grownups for a bit? You can join in while we all get to know each other.’

  ‘Ok.’

  Jack’s dad spoke. ‘She seems to like you.’ Phoebe looked around to see him smiling at her.

  ‘Children are very trusting,’ Jack’s mum remarked, crushing the sliver of hope that Phoebe might win them over after all with one concise and cutting observation. ‘Come and sit down, Maria,’ she added, patting her knee.

  Maria obediently skipped over and clambered onto her grandmother’s lap.

  Feeling awkward and unwanted, Phoebe took a seat at the table.

  ‘Jack tells us you work at the toy store in town,’ his dad said.

  ‘That’s right. I used to work on the shop floor but I’ve recently joined the PR team.’

  ‘Is that the scruffy place on the high street?’ Carol asked.

  Phoebe was a whisker away from reminding her that her own brother owned possibly the grubbiest looking fruit and veg shop she had ever seen, but simply gave a tense smile. ‘There are plans to modernise it. Mr Hendry’s son is training to take over and he has lots of ideas.’

  ‘Awww, it’s not that bad, Carol,’ Jack’s dad said. ‘You spent enough hours in there with Jack when he was young and you didn’t seem to mind it so much then. And just look at Fred’s place; nobody complains about that.’

  Phoebe wondered if he had somehow read her mind. She hoped Jack’s mum couldn’t do that too because her mind wasn’t filled with very complimentary thoughts at that moment.

  ‘Fred’s place has character,’ Carol replied coldly. ‘It’s an old world charm.’

  ‘I think Hendry’s has character too,’ Phoebe replied, struggling to keep the argumentative tone from her voice. She could see that perhaps, in the future, Jack’s dad was someone she could get along with. It was a shame he was married to a woman with all the charm of a rusty nail.

  To Phoebe’s immense relief, Jack appeared at the back door.

  ‘How’s it going?’ He eyed all three adults, his expression betraying a certain amount of anxiety.

  ‘Phoebe was just telling us about her work,’ Jack’s dad replied.

  ‘Is the chicken ready yet?’ Maria asked, her attention now drawn from the colouring book she had been leaning over while the adults were getting to know each other.

  ‘Just about. Are you hungry?’

  Maria nodded.

  ‘Good, because there’s tons.’ Jack grinned. ‘I know it was labelled in the shop as extra large but I think Jurassic Park might be missing one of its velociraptors.’

  ‘What’s one of those?’ Maria asked.

  ‘A dinosaur, spud. How do you like the idea of eating dinosaur?’

  ‘No way, José,’ Maria said, screwing her face up.

  Jack burst out laughing. ‘Where have you heard that saying?’

  ‘Archie.’

  Jack’s laughter died. He glanced at his mum and dad but said nothing.

  Jack’s mum stood up. ‘Let me come and help get everything to the table.’

  ‘I’m fine, mum, I’ve got it all under control.’

  ‘I insist. It’s the least I can do since you’ve cooked everything all by yourself.’

  The jibe was obviously aimed at Phoebe and it hit its mark. It also set the pattern for the rest of the afternoon. Wherever Carol could dig or snipe, or get one up on Phoebe, she grabbed the opportunity with both hands. Wherever she could squeeze in a comment about how wonderful Rebecca had been at this and that (great singing voice, lovely dress sense, A-levels coming out of her ears, Nobel peace prize, personal friend of the Dalai Lama) she made sure that the remark was delivered loud and clear. Phoebe had always been taught never to speak ill of the dead, but if Rebecca’s ghostly form had appeared to them, hovering above the table with beneficent light, Phoebe was pretty sure she’d have thrown a chicken leg at her and told her to sling her heavenly hook. No matter what Phoebe did or said, how complimentary she was, how helpful, how generous, how demure, none of it was enough to stem the onslaught. Lucretia Borgia could have turned up asking Jack on a date and Phoebe suspected that Carol would have danced a jig. The plain and simple truth was that Phoebe wasn’t Rebecca. She was only relieved that Jack’s dad seemed more tolerant and understanding of the fact that it was possible for other women to exist on earth who weren’t Rebecca and that was pretty much ok.

  When the time came for them to go, Carol stood at the front door waiting, as if she expected Phoebe to leave with them. Phoebe stood by Jack’s side, clearly with no intentions of going anywhere, and his mum let out a huge sigh. She seemed very reluctant to leave herself, until Jack’s dad led her gently but firmly to the dark blue Saab they had parked out on the road and made her get in.

  ‘Wow,’ Phoebe said as Jack closed the front door and Maria went to tidy her colouring crayons before bath time. ‘That was… interesting.’

  ‘It went ok.’

  Phoebe stared at him. He thought that had been ok? Had he been at a different meal with a different family? How could she say anything about it now? Turning over replies in her head, she realised nothing she wanted to say was remotely diplomatic enough. She was saved by Maria returning with crayons bundled in her hand and a huge flapping colouring book trying to escape from under her arm.

  ‘Can you manage that, spud?’ Jack asked. Maria nodded, her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth, and carried on up the stairs to her room. Jack turned to Phoebe. ‘I’d better get madam in the bath and settled before bedtime. You want to grab a coffee and a bit of TV and then we’ll talk more later?’

  Phoebe nodded as he gave her a quick kiss and followed Maria up the stairs, growling and calling out her name in a monster voice which was followed by squeals and raucous giggling and the thudding of footsteps across the upstairs landing. With a sigh, she took herself back to the kitchen and switched the kettle on.

  *

  With Maria tucked safely in bed, Jack came through from the kitchen with two colourful glasses.

  ‘Mojitos…’ he grinned. ‘I figured we’d earned them.’ He popped them down on a side-table before snuggling on the sofa next to Phoebe and reaching for the TV remote. He waggled it at Phoebe. ‘Want me to switch off so we can talk?’

  ‘She hates me,’ Phoebe sighed.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your mum. She detests me.’

  ‘She doesn’t.’ Jack switched off the television and pulled her close. ‘She just needs time to get used to you.’

  ‘How can she get used to me if she doesn’t even want to hear me speak? It’s obvious that she is determined to hate me no matter what I do.’

  ‘It’s not you… she’d be the same with any girl.’

  Phoebe looked up at him. ‘You told me you hadn’t had a girlfriend since Rebecca died so how do you know she’d hate anyone?’

  ‘It’s just… well, Rebecca was different… Special.’

  ‘And I’m not.’ She knew it was unreasonable, she knew she sounded like a whining child, but Phoebe couldn’t help the resentment in her voice.

  ‘Of course it’s not that,’ he replied patiently, not a bit phased by her tone. ‘But Rebecca and I… well, we’d been together since school. We started out as friends and she was always at our house from our early teens, and I suppose Mum already saw her as a daughter, even before we started dating. She had dreams of us getting married and getting, in her eyes, the perfect daughter-in-law. Losing her hit Mum hard.’

  ‘But she has gone. No matter how much she loved Rebecca, would she see you alone for the rest of your life?’

  He shrugged. ‘Like I said, she just needs time. She’ll come round.’

  ‘She wouldn’t even let Maria sit with me.’

  Jack bit back a grin. ‘I think you’re more upset about that than the fact that she doesn’t like you dating me.’

  ‘So you do admit tha
t she doesn’t like me!’

  ‘No… no. I didn’t mean that.’ He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her hair. ‘The first, and worst, meeting is over now – think of it that way. It’s got to be easier from now on, right?’

  ‘I don’t think I want to do it again.’

  ‘At least you didn’t get squished half to death by a giant in the middle of a crowded restaurant.’

  ‘I think that would have been less painful.’

  ‘Drama queen.’

  Phoebe couldn’t help a smile. But it was a grudging one. ‘Don’t make me do that again for at least six months.’

  ‘Dad loved you, if it’s any consolation.’

  ‘Dads always do. It’s the mums you have to do battle with. I suppose I’ll be the same when I have kids of my own.’

  ‘There’s no one here now…’ Jack said, sliding a hand to the nape of her neck. ‘You do look lovely in that dress and there’s no need to be respectable any more… how about we get up to something that my mother definitely would not approve of?’

  ‘Seriously?’ Phoebe raised her eyebrows. ‘After the day of torment I’ve endured?’

  ‘All the more reason to do something to take your mind off it…’ he kissed her, that special kiss that he knew did strange and wonderful things to her and she melted into it. It wouldn’t have mattered if Genghis Khan had come storming through the living room at that moment – she was Jack’s and his completely.

  *

  ‘We have totally got to have lunch at Pizza Express. And I’m ordering the biggest, most expensive pizza on the menu.’ Midnight leaned on the table between them and gave Phoebe a manic grin. Phoebe tried not to return it with a grin that was just as mad and turned her gaze to the landscape rushing past the train’s broad window. Much as she was going to enjoy today too, she had to be the voice of reason.

  ‘We get expenses for essential things. I think that means a sandwich deal from Subway and not a slap up lunch. If we take the piss we won’t be allowed out again.’

  ‘I can’t believe we’ve been let out this time,’ Midnight replied, her grin spreading, if it was anatomically possible, even wider than before. ‘Steve’s face was classic when Adam Hendry spoke to him about letting me out for the day, an absolute picture. I wish I’d had my camera with me; that was one memory I’ll treasure forever.’

  ‘You’re terrible,’ Phoebe laughed as she turned back to Midnight. ‘You know you could do a lot worse than Steve for a boss.’

  ‘Like Mr Hot-Lips Hendry?’

  ‘Ugh! What am I, a coffin botherer?’

  ‘Not the old dude, you simpleton! I mean Adam.’

  ‘He’s ok, I suppose… although he’s not technically our boss yet.’

  The sign for Manchester Piccadilly flashed by the window and the train began to slow. Around them other passengers collected phones, books and tablets from their tables, stuffing them into bags and backpacks.

  ‘He’s not far off,’ Midnight said. ‘I wouldn’t pick a fight with him anyway.’ She tilted an open packet of mints at Phoebe, who took one and popped it into her mouth.

  ‘I guess so…’

  ‘And you’re well in there for when he does take over.’

  ‘How do you work that out?’

  ‘Because he totally fancies you.’

  ‘He does not.’ Phoebe’s laugh was rather more awkward and forced now.

  ‘Oh. My. God! Wake up and smell the coffee! The way he looks at you it’s like he wants to gobble you up. And not in a Hans Christian Andersen way. Are you really that blind?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He could have his pick of posh girls – ones that daddy would approve of. Besides, I have a boyfriend.’

  ‘You’d really take Mr Stalker over Adam-hot-and-incredibly-rich-Hendry?’

  ‘I love Jack. Money has nothing to do with it. It doesn’t make you happy.’

  ‘No, but it bloody well makes you less miserable.’

  ‘Well, I don’t fancy Adam Hendry, so you can try to catch his attention if you like and you have my blessing.’

  ‘It must have been him that approved this research day and expenses. Old Mr H would never have done something like that.’

  ‘Maybe…’

  Phoebe had been troubled by this herself for a few days now. At first she’d been excited and happy that she was being trusted with the whole venture. But Midnight was right – nothing like today had been sanctioned at Hendry’s before, certainly not for anyone below senior management level. Much as she didn’t want to see any truth in what Midnight had teasingly remarked upon, she had to wonder how much influence Adam had brought to bear on the situation. And if it had been him, what were his motives?

  The train slowed to a halt.

  ‘This is us,’ Phoebe said. ‘Grab your stuff.’

  ‘We can do H&M before we head to the museum, right?’

  ‘No we can’t. Museum, toy store, sandwich, home. That’s it.’ Phoebe pulled on a denim jacket and smoothed it down.

  ‘Spoilsport.’ Midnight grinned.

  ‘I don’t want to be a party pooper but if there’s a sniff of us doing anything other than what we’ve been sent to do then we’ll never be trusted again and I need to do stuff like this for ideas. So you’ll just have to behave.’

  Midnight rolled her eyes. ‘I suppose it beats standing at the tills all day next to Veronica Small and her sinuses.’

  As they stepped onto the heaving platform, Phoebe caught sight of the giant ornate arches that led out onto the main station. Whenever she was here, she always felt like she’d been away from Manchester for too long. There was a cosmopolitan vibe in this city to match London but she never felt like a country mouse as she did whenever she visited the capital. The people here were friendly and cheerful with a wicked, stoic northern humour. And, of course, the shopping was amazing.

  Today, the weather was perfect too – fresh and sunny with a cool breeze that chased fluffy cotton clouds across a blue sky.

  ‘What, exactly, do you need to find out today?’ Midnight asked as they walked.

  ‘I want inspiration, you know?’

  ‘And you’re going to find it at the Museum of Science and Industry?’ Midnight’s tone held disbelief.

  ‘It might sound dull but, actually, it has some cracking reviews online. I think it’s a big hit with kids because the exhibits are fun and interactive. And then we’ll head to Hamley’s… well, that goes without saying really, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Ok… But how is all this going to help with the cosplay event you’re planning?’

  ‘It might not help with that, but it will give us ideas for other events.’

  ‘Ok. So you’ve got all the details sorted out now?’

  ‘God, no! I wish we had!’

  ‘What is it, about four weeks away?’

  ‘Don’t remind me. I would have given it more time but Adam is really keen to get this strand of the business up and running. He and Dixon are calling in favours to get council permission for the street space and Adam is getting town traders involved doing food and stuff. I think it’s doable if everything goes to plan.’

  ‘I can’t wait; it’ll be awesome if you pull it off.’

  ‘We have to. Jack’s got contacts and he’s going to help too. It’s going to be hectic, but weirdly fun.’

  ‘Fun? Bloody hell, you have a different idea of fun than the rest of the world.’

  ‘Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you.’ Phoebe held the door open for an old lady as they exited the station into the sunshine. ‘How do you fancy mingling in the crowds… you know, like a representative of the store?’

  ‘I said from the start I would. You’d have to lock me in a cupboard to stop me.’

  ‘I know, but this is in a more official capacity so you wouldn’t be quite as free to do what you liked as before. And you’d need to dress in something more recognisable, I’m afraid, a character that ordinary punters will know. So that means no obscure anime or debauched game
characters.’

  ‘For you, I think I can do that.’

  Phoebe smiled. ‘I was hoping you’d say that. You’re an absolute star.’

  They stopped at the Metro timetable outside the station. Phoebe squinted up at it while Midnight tapped on her phone.

  ‘Google Maps says the museum is close to the Coronation Street tour. Please, please, please, can we go there?’

  Phoebe gave her a sideways look. ‘You don’t watch Coronation Street.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because you’ve never mentioned it. And because it really isn’t you at all.’

  ‘Just because I have some unconventional tastes, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good bit of northern soap.’

  ‘It’s still a no,’ Phoebe said as she looked up at the board again.

  ‘Awww, come on…’

  ‘We can’t. I’ve already told you – work and nothing else.’

  ‘I’m sure we can make it about work.’

  ‘No we can’t.’

  ‘But we might not get a chance to come to Manchester again for ages.’

  Phoebe turned to her. ‘Look… I’ll treat you one weekend, I promise, my thank-you for all your help.’

  ‘I thought you spent every weekend with Mr Stalker.’

  ‘Not every weekend…’ Midnight raised her eyebrows. ‘Ok, every weekend. But I’m sure he won’t mind if I take one day off to spend it with you.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that!’

  Phoebe pointed to a bus stop across a short stretch of road. ‘That’s where we need to be for our bus.’

  ‘So, what do you think I should dress as?’ Midnight asked as they made their way to the stop.

  ‘Just think mainstream. And any other ideas you can bring to the table will be rewarded with a tall, cream-covered mocha later on.’

  ‘You need stunts!’ Midnight said with a yelp.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know, role play? That would be soooo cool! I’ve seen them at ’cons; they get proper actors to dress up and replay fight scenes and stuff for the crowds. The rest of the time they walk around and mingle in character.’

  Phoebe was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I suppose that could be fun.’

  ‘We’d have to do something really cool to make people sit up and take notice. Like have Spiderman climbing the side of the store or something.’