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

by Tennant, Tilly

  ‘Yes… I’ll let you get back to Jack.’ With that, Dixon wandered off.

  ‘Want some food?’ Jack asked as Phoebe rejoined him.

  Phoebe looked up at him and smiled. ‘You know what? I could actually murder a chicken drumstick!’

  For the next hour Phoebe and Jack made pleasant small talk with her colleagues. She couldn’t decide if it felt like Christmas as yuletide songs began to fill the room and increasingly drunken voices joined in, or something entirely different when she reflected on the reason they were really gathered here beyond their working day. But she felt good, like she was home, like she had finally been accepted by people who liked and respected her and believed that she was capable of making a difference. It was a nice feeling. Maybe what they all saw was the kind of person she wanted her baby to grow up seeing too. Maybe that was exactly who she ought to be from now on.

  Eventually, the gathering thinned as people began to leave, wishing Phoebe and Jack all the best for the baby and the impending wedding as they went home to start their own Christmases.

  Dixon grabbed a roll of black bin liners from a kitchen drawer and began to clear away the leftovers.

  ‘Here, let me help,’ Phoebe said as Midnight kept Jack busy across the room, regaling him with some lurid tale of a night out in a local rock club.

  ‘You’re the guest of honour; you shouldn’t be cleaning up.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. It’ll take half the time if we do it together and I won’t feel bad for leaving you with the mess.’

  Dixon smiled. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’

  ‘No, so you might as well give in.’

  He tore another bag from the roll and handed it to her. She was distracted from her task for a moment as the last of her other colleagues bid them goodbye and a merry Christmas, and when she returned to it Dixon had almost finished.

  ‘You’re a fast worker when you want to be,’ Phoebe exclaimed.

  ‘I told you I had it all under control.’ He glanced across at Midnight and Jack who were still deep in conversation. ‘Why don’t you open your envelope while no one is looking?’

  ‘Shouldn’t I take it home first?’

  ‘I said you shouldn’t let anyone see what was in there,’ Dixon grinned. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, though.’

  ‘You’re impossible!’ Phoebe smiled. ‘Hang on; it’s in my bag over there.’

  Dixon continued to clear up as Phoebe went to fetch the envelope he had given her earlier. As she rummaged through her bag, she looked up to see Jack was still holding Midnight’s attention. It was probably a good thing. If ever there was a person who shouldn’t see the contents of a mystery envelope, it was her. For a moment, Phoebe considered opening it by herself in a quiet corner. She wondered whether the contents would be embarrassing or incriminating, or even both. Did she really want anyone else to see? Why had the person entrusting it to Dixon not written on the envelope? Was it because people would recognise the handwriting? Two and two often made a lot more than four at Hendry’s (apart from where the accounts were concerned, which would have been a lot more productive). Phoebe was beginning to guess who had given Dixon the envelope, but what it contained was another matter entirely.

  She looked up to see Dixon coming towards her, still holding his rubbish sack.

  ‘Did you get sick of waiting for me?’ Phoebe asked.

  ‘I realised that you might want to open it in private after all. So I was going to say take it home with you for later.’

  ‘I’m thinking that might be best. Tell me one thing, though… did Adam give it to you to pass on?’

  ‘Bingo! I think it’s sort of a leaving gift, but he didn’t say and I’m only making an educated guess. He only said I should let you have it without making it part of the official presentation and he preferred to keep it quiet.’

  ‘I suppose that makes sense,’ Phoebe said. It was an unexpected turn of events and she was almost beginning to wish he hadn’t left it for her; it posed too many uncomfortable questions. ‘What the hell…’ she decided. ‘I may as well look now.’ Tearing open the flap she looked inside. ‘It’s a cheque.’ She pulled it from the envelope to take a closer look. ‘One hundred pounds.’

  Dixon gave a low whistle. ‘Anything else? A card?’

  ‘Just a note.’ Phoebe unfolded the slip of paper and read it out. ‘Thank you for everything.’ She looked up at Dixon. ‘What’s this? Is this like severance pay? Is this his way of saying don’t come back?’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Dixon smiled. ‘It’s his way of saying he appreciates what you’ve done for the store.’

  Phoebe read the note again before refolding it. She stared at the cheque. It was a generous gift, perhaps a bit too generous. Maybe Dixon was right, but she couldn’t help feeling there was more to it than that. Was it simply Adam acknowledging the feelings he may have had for her, and telling her that he had drawn a line under the episode and they could now return to a normal boss-employee relationship? It would be nice to think so. Phoebe thought she could be very happy with that. She hadn’t enjoyed his frosty silence, even though she hadn’t particularly been happy with his advances either, and a middle ground would be just fine.

  Dixon’s voice broke in on her thoughts. ‘If I were you I’d take it in the spirit it was intended and just enjoy it.’

  ‘There’s no doubt it will come in handy,’ Phoebe agreed. She folded the cheque and put it in her purse.

  At that moment, Midnight and Jack came to join them.

  ‘You two look very guilty about something,’ Midnight said.

  Phoebe and Dixon shared a knowing glance but remained silent. Jack put his arm around Phoebe. ‘You look shattered. Is it time for home?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I think I’m finally ready.’

  *

  Phoebe gazed out onto the snow covered lawn. Her breath misted the window and she wiped it clear, smiling to herself as she watched the flakes still falling softly. The garden looked as though it had been iced, like some giant living wedding cake especially for her and Jack. It would make transport a nightmare, but somehow the magical sight felt like a good omen for the day.

  ‘Haven’t you made a start on getting ready yet?’ Martha bustled into the room. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

  Phoebe turned to her. ‘Sorry. I was just thinking.’

  ‘There’s a time for thinking…’ Martha stepped forward, but her expression was suddenly apprehensive. ‘Unless you’re having second thoughts about today?’

  ‘No,’ Phoebe smiled. ‘Nothing like that.’

  ‘You’re ok? No baby worries?’

  ‘Not that either. Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about life… I mean, it’s hard to imagine where my own life was at this time last year. I can’t believe how much has changed. It all seems so fast and so good, like it’s somehow fake, like I’ll wake tomorrow morning and I’ll be back in my old flat alone and it will have been a dream.’

  ‘You couldn’t dream a bump like that.’ Martha angled her head at Phoebe’s belly.

  ‘I suppose not. It has grown rather a lot in the last few weeks, hasn’t it?’

  ‘I should say there’s a whale in there now.’

  Phoebe laughed. ‘Maria hasn’t exploded yet with excitement?’

  ‘She’s with May now, having the time of her life parading around in that dress… I bet you’re exhausted already, aren’t you?’

  ‘Four-thirty wake up calls don’t really agree with me but I’ll probably run on adrenaline today anyway.’

  ‘Josh just called, by the way.’

  ‘He did? He’s in England?’

  Martha beamed. ‘He is. Carla and the kids send their love too, he says, and she’s sorry she had to miss it but… well, we all know how expensive the air fare is, don’t we?’

  ‘Oh, that’s brilliant!’ Phoebe clapped her hands and bounced up and down just like Maria often did. She was possibly as excited about se
eing her brother as she was about the wedding.

  ‘Your dad’s gone to fetch him from the airport.’

  ‘It’s weird to think that Josh and Jack haven’t met each other yet and they’re going to be brothers in a few hours – well, sort of brothers anyway.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll get along just fine. It’s the other one I’m worried about.’

  ‘Archie?’ Phoebe smiled. ‘He’s not so bad these days. Not once you get to know him.’

  ‘I just hope he behaves.’

  ‘He will. Jack has given him a job to do so he’ll have to.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Chief Maria entertainer.’

  ‘Let’s hope it does the trick.’ Martha strode over to the wardrobe and removed the cover from Phoebe’s white silk dress. She stroked a loving hand down its length. Perhaps she was remembering her own wedding day. She seemed to shake herself before turning back to Phoebe. ‘Come on now, you need to get a move on.’

  ‘Mum, we’ve got ages yet. I could do with another drink actually.’

  ‘Did someone say drink?’ May appeared at the open bedroom door, flanked by Maria who wore enough layers of pink tulle to wrap around the world four times and still have enough left to clothe the population of China. Martha had been horrified when she had gone dress shopping with her and Phoebe, and Phoebe had readily agreed to Maria’s request to buy it. It didn’t match the winter colour scheme they had chosen for the wedding at all – not the blood red and white flowers, not the cake, not the décor at the venue – in fact, it clashed horribly with everything. But Maria looked so adorable and so very, very happy that Phoebe didn’t care about any of that. In fact, she almost felt that the whistles and bells of the day were for others and not for her. As long as she was marrying Jack, she’d do it in a bed sheet with the reception in a shed if she had to. And if Maria wanted to wear a pink monstrosity, then what the hell?

  ‘I can make drinks,’ May said. ‘I need to make myself useful.’

  ‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Phoebe said. ‘I’d love a cup of tea. How about you, Mum?’

  Martha shook her head. ‘Not for me, thanks.’

  May looked positively thrilled to be at their service. ‘Great! Give me a minute and I’ll bring one up.’

  She left, a pink cloud in her wake as Maria followed.

  ‘One thing I can’t understand is why she’s here again,’ Martha whispered.

  ‘Because I like her.’ Phoebe’s whispered reply was a little fiercer. ‘Besides, she’s Maria’s grandmother.’

  ‘Maria’s, but not yours. She isn’t anything to do with you, she’s her mother. Isn’t it a bit strange, all this involvement in your wedding day? Won’t she just be thinking about her own daughter, how this ought to be her wedding day and not yours? I know I would be.’

  The same notion had troubled Phoebe at first. But May had insisted that she was happy to be involved and she wanted to help. She thought of Jack as family, Maria was family, of course, and she felt that she couldn’t ask for a better person to share their lives now than Phoebe. She could keep an eye on Maria, leaving Phoebe free to get ready with minimal stress, she said, and she seemed so earnest about it that Phoebe hadn’t the heart to refuse. She knew May so well now and liked her so much that, at times, she almost forgot the fact that she was Rebecca’s mother. Perhaps today would make May a little sad, but Phoebe believed that she genuinely wanted to be a part of it despite that. And Jack had been delighted when Phoebe suggested they invite her to the ceremony as well.

  ‘May’s not like that,’ Phoebe said. ‘You’d really like her if you gave her a chance.’

  ‘I don’t dislike her. I don’t have any feelings either way. It’s just a little unconventional, that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘Maybe, but I don’t care.’

  Martha sniffed, a wordless communication that said she didn’t agree with Phoebe’s decision but could see that an argument would lead nowhere. Phoebe recognised the signal well and was content to leave it at that too. ‘Have you checked to see if the groom is up and about yet?’

  ‘He’ll be up. It’s gone ten and he’s not a late sleeper.’

  ‘He might be if he went drinking last night.’

  ‘He wasn’t planning to go far. It’s been hard, bringing up Maria alone, and it’s not exactly conducive to keeping drinking buddies. I think he met a couple of old friends for a quiet hour and took Archie and Edward with him.’

  Martha sniffed again. ‘He could have asked your dad.’

  ‘Mum, that’s a silly thing to say considering Dad was at a society meeting and he’d mentioned it ages ago. Anyway, they hardly know each other really –’

  ‘That’s another thing…’

  Here we go, thought Phoebe.

  ‘I can’t believe we don’t even get to meet his parents until today. Who does that?’

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry. We just seemed to run out of opportunities, somehow. But as I’ve said all along, it will be fine.’

  More than fine, Phoebe hoped. She and Jack had placed all their faith in both sets of parents being so drunk by the time they got past exchanging awkward pleasantries that they’d get on without even noticing they had nothing in common. The bigger plan was for them never to meet in a situation without a ready supply of alcohol on hand. Refereeing their parents might turn out to be a more demanding task than bringing up two children.

  ‘It’s silly,’ Martha pouted, reminding Phoebe very much of one of those children.

  ‘And it’s too late to change now so we’ll just have to make the best of it.’

  May appeared at the door again, but she wasn’t holding a mug of tea, she had Martha’s mobile phone in her hand. ‘It’s been ringing and ringing so I wondered if it might be important.’ She handed it over. ‘Is Josh your son who’s flying in?’

  ‘He ought to be at the airport; my husband has gone to get him.’ Martha took the phone and dialled the number to call Josh back. The colour drained from her face as she listened.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked sharply. ‘When did this happen? Where are they taking him?’

  Phoebe watched as Martha continued to listen, her frown deepening as the call progressed, and her face almost ashen by time it was over. She could tell that whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.

  Martha ended the call and turned to Phoebe. ‘It’s your dad. He took a funny turn at the airport. An ambulance is with them now.’

  ‘Funny? How funny?’

  ‘I don’t know. Josh says he had pains, they’re treating it as a suspected heart attack.’

  Phoebe’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh God!’

  ‘Josh says they’re taking him to A&E.’

  ‘Oh God… this can’t be happening…’ Phoebe ran to the wardrobe, brushing the wedding dress aside she started to rummage for clothes. ‘We have to go to him!’

  ‘Phoebe, you’re getting married this afternoon!’

  ‘Not without my dad, I’m not.’

  ‘We don’t know for sure whether things are that bad yet. He might be overexcited, you know how he gets. Josh says he’s still able to talk and even joke with the ambulance crew so –’

  ‘We can’t leave him in a hospital all alone!’

  ‘He won’t be alone – he’s got Josh. Phoebe, please calm down, getting in a state is not going to help anyone.’

  ‘What are we going to do? Sit here and pretend nothing is wrong? How can I get ready for a wedding when my dad could die?’

  ‘Nobody’s said anything about dying, have they?’

  Phoebe stared at her. How could she be so calm? This couldn’t be happening, today of all days. What had she ever done to deserve the terrible luck that hounded her? Whatever she tried to make good went bad, whatever she tried to make right went wrong.

  ‘Please sit down, Phoebe, you’re making me nervous. Josh says he will call us the minute he has anything new to report.’

  Phoebe halted with her hand on a shirt ready to tug it f
rom the hanger, and swayed on the spot for a moment before perching herself on the edge of the bed.

  May’s voice cut through the silence. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Martha replied, ‘but I don’t really know that there is.’ She glanced at Maria, who was now watching with eyes too solemn for a little girl. ‘Perhaps you ought to take our princess downstairs, though.’ Martha looked back at May who nodded and then held out a hand.

  ‘Come on, Maria. Let’s watch one of your DVDs for a while and let Phoebe sort things out here.’

  ‘Is Phoebe’s daddy going to die?’ Phoebe heard Maria whisper as they walked away. May’s reply and the sound of more questions grew fainter as they went down the stairs.

  ‘Oh, Mum, what are we going to do?’

  ‘You’re going to do nothing but stay here and get ready for your wedding. Knowing your dad this is something and nothing and he’s got everyone in a flap about it.’

  ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  Phoebe knew she was lying. But she realised it was the only way her mother could stay strong. That fortitude in a crisis was a quality she often felt she lacked, but sometimes she wondered if it came with age. The amount Phoebe had been through over the last two years, surely she would have acquired some of that stoicism by now? ‘I can’t get ready,’ she said. ‘If Dad is having a heart attack then we can’t possibly have the wedding.’

  ‘He won’t be pleased if you call it off. You know he’d feel terrible if he thought he was the cause of that.’

  ‘Am I supposed to pretend it’s not happening?’

  ‘No. But you are supposed to carry on with your plans until we know there’s a good reason to call them off.’

  ‘It’ll be an awful day…’

  ‘No, it won’t. May will help you for now –’

  ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  ‘To find out what’s going on. Josh needs to be picked up too.’