The Spring of Second Chances
An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy
Tilly Tennant
Books by Tilly Tennant
The Summer of Secrets
The Summer Getaway
The Christmas Wish
The Mill on Magnolia Lane
Hattie’s Home for Broken Hearts
The Garden on Sparrow Street
The Break Up
The Waffle House on the Pier
Worth Waiting For
Cathy’s Christmas Kitchen
Once Upon a Winter
An Unforgettable Christmas Series
A Very Vintage Christmas
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas
From Italy with Love Series
Rome is Where the Heart is
A Wedding in Italy
Honeybourne Series
The Little Village Bakery
Christmas at the Little Village Bakery
The Spring of Second Chances
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn
Contents
PART 1: LITTLE ACTS OF LOVE
PART 2: JUST LIKE REBECCA
PART 3: THE PARENT TRAP
PART 4: AND BABY MAKES FOUR
EPILOGUE: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT
*
Mishaps and Mistletoe
The Mill on Magnolia Lane
Hear More from Tilly Tennant
Books by Tilly Tennant
A Letter from Tilly
The Summer Getaway
The Summer of Secrets
The Christmas Wish
The Mill on Magnolia Lane
Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts
The Garden on Sparrow Street
The Break Up
The Waffle House on the Pier
Worth Waiting For
Cathy's Christmas Kitchen
Once Upon a Winter
A Very Vintage Christmas
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas
Rome is Where the Heart is
A Wedding in Italy
The Spring of Second Chances
Acknowledgements
PART 1: LITTLE ACTS OF LOVE
The bunny ears slipped forward again. Maria puffed out her cheeks and reached up to straighten them. ‘They’re too big,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.
‘They are a little on the big side but that was the only size we had left. And your hair is so silky that everything slides around. What if I put some hairspray in to help make them a bit more secure?’
‘Hairspray?’
Phoebe rifled through her handbag and produced a small canister. ‘Turn around and cover your eyes.’
Maria clapped her hands over her face and hunched her shoulders up.
‘There’s no need to look so terrified,’ Phoebe laughed. ‘It won’t hurt!’
Maria’s shoulders shook as she let out a giggle from behind her hands. ‘I love you, Phoebe.’
‘And I love you too. Now stand still and let’s get these ears sorted or those Easter eggs will have melted by the time we find them.’
‘Or Daddy will eat them.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s probably eaten most of them while he was hiding them.’
Maria giggled again. ‘Why didn’t you hide them?’
‘But who would have put your ears on then?’
‘Daddy.’
‘Hmmmm.’ Phoebe spritzed a light coating of lacquer over Maria’s head. ‘I’d like to see your daddy handle a can of hairspray like this. He’d probably have stapled the ears to your head or something.’
‘I heard that.’ Jack’s voice came from the back door. A gust of fresh, crisp air followed in his wake as he closed it behind him. ‘You’d better get your coats on, girls; it’s bright but it’s still cold out there.’
‘You’re such a wuss,’ Phoebe laughed as she put away the hairspray and straightened her denim jacket. ‘It’s April.’
The smoothing down of her clothing was instinctive. Phoebe and Jack had been together for four months now, but they were still in that relationship phase where everything was new and shiny and Phoebe was always conscious of how she looked when he was around.
‘I’ve been crawling through the undergrowth,’ he replied cheerfully, ‘I’m bound to be cold.’
‘We’ve got bunny ears to keep us warm, haven’t we?’ Phoebe made a final adjustment to Maria’s headband and smiled down at her.
‘And bunny fur,’ Maria added, pulling at her pink fleece.
Jack stepped over and zipped it up for her. ‘Right up tight,’ he said.
‘Snug as a bug in a rug,’ Maria laughed. Phoebe smiled. She had discovered over the last few months that it was an oft-repeated mantra but one that Maria never got tired of. It was the little things that were so endearing, that made Jack and Maria so special to be around. It was like they were sprinkled in fairy dust, and everyone who came into contact with them caught a little of it too.
‘Ready to rock?’ Jack jumped up, his hand hovering over the back-door handle.
‘Ready!’ Maria cried, bouncing up and down and giggling.
‘Never been readier!’ Phoebe joined in.
‘Let’s go hunt some chocolate!’ Jack yanked open the door and they trouped out, Maria’s chat turning into a stream of words that tumbled over one another in her excitement. Phoebe could only catch the odd syllable and half-word, but she didn’t really need to follow the meaning at all. There was no sound lovelier on earth than the sound of that little girl’s excitement and she was happy just to let it wash over her.
It was funny, Phoebe mused as she watched Maria race across the lawn to the shelter of the trees at the bottom of the garden, that only a few months ago she really hadn’t cared for children at all. They were like an alien race, to be treated with suspicion and avoided unless absolutely necessary. Her stint working as an assistant to Hendry’s store janitor-cum-Santa-cum-resident alcoholic hadn’t done much to dispel those beliefs. After a day of trying to communicate with the strange little hordes that streamed through and laid waste to the grotto on an hourly basis in the manner of a Viking invasion, she had decided that in future she would do all she could to avoid them. Maria had wiped all those beliefs clean in one afternoon. But then, she was an exceptional little girl. The cure had been so profound that Phoebe had actually been excited when Steve, her boss, had asked her to stay on at Hendry’s after the Christmas job had ended. Phoebe Clements working in a toy shop – the centre of the kiddie universe? It was a strange turn of events indeed.
Almost as strange was how quickly she had found herself falling for Jack. After Vik’s death, she had locked her heart away and it had withered. She had believed that nothing or no one could bring her back from that point. But that was before Jack’s blue eyes had smiled at her, before those dimples that played at the corners of his mouth had worked their peculiar magic, before his soft voice and attentive nature had taken her by surprise with their power to charm and heal what she thought was forever broken. Some days she was frightened by it all. Sometimes, in her darker moments, the old pangs of guilt returned, and she clung onto the memory of Vik, forcing herself to remember his face and his voice for fear they would disappear for good. And in those darker moments were the conflicting emotions, the fear that by conjuring up Vik, she was somehow being unfaithful to Jack, and that karma or fate, or whatever strange and invisible power ruled the universe, would take him and Maria from her as punishment for her ingratitude. The only thing she ever knew for certain was
that when she was with Jack, everything felt right and good. She held onto those feelings and tried to cherish them while she could.
‘Come on!’ Jack called, shaking Phoebe from her musings. ‘Maria’s got two already!’
She realised, with some surprise, that she was standing in the middle of the still frosted lawn. She must have looked like a brain-addled loon, staring into space with the absent smile she could feel on her lips.
‘Three!’ Maria shouted from the depths of the Leylandi hedge.
Phoebe adjusted her own rabbit headband, waggled her bum to shake the bunny tail she had attached, and twitched her nose, sticking her teeth out and sniffing the air. ‘Bunny powers – activate!’ she cried as Maria, watching her, dissolved into a fit of new giggles. ‘All the chocolate will be mine!’
Racing over to the trees, she pretended to barge Maria aside and proceeded to snuffle around in the bedding plants like a deranged pig on a crack-fuelled truffle hunt. Maria’s giggles became shrieks of delight, all thoughts of her own search forgotten as she watched Phoebe’s larking about become more and more absurd. She glanced up to see that Jack was watching too, a huge grin spread across his face. Phoebe sent a radiant smile back, and then pulled Maria’s arm to join her.
‘We’re bunnies!’ Maria protested in between gales of laughter.
‘We’re bunny-pig mutants,’ Phoebe replied. ‘Go with it girl!’
‘Found another one!’ Maria suddenly squeaked, pulling a bright pink egg from the undergrowth and holding it aloft with a look of triumph.
‘You’re good…’ Phoebe held up her hand for a high five. ‘I need to get a move on or there’ll be nothing left.’
And that was when she saw it, glinting from within the thorny branches of a wild raspberry bush: a sliver of gold. ‘Aha!’ she cried, carefully reaching inside to retrieve it. She winked at Maria. ‘I do believe that’s now four: one. Never underestimate the Man United of Easter egg hunting; comebacks are always possible.’ As she dropped it into her basket, she noticed this particular egg gave a dull clunk, as if it was made of something harder than chocolate. Then she saw the label.
To Phoebe. A special egg.
With a glance at Maria, who was now scouring a patch of primula as if her life depended on it, Phoebe turned her attention back to the egg with a puzzled frown.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Jack asked from behind her.
‘You made me jump!’ Phoebe laughed, blushing without knowing why.
‘Well?’
‘It’s against the rules of the game, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t think anyone’s looking,’ he whispered.
Her hand was trembling a little now, but she did as she was asked, and carefully removed the gold wrapping. Beneath, was an enamel egg, decorated with intricate gold swirls and interlocking spring flowers. She held it up and gave him a brief kiss. ‘It’s lovely. Thank you.’
‘Open it.’
Now, her heart was beating like a steam engine. Fear of what she might find inside crept in. This was too soon, wasn’t it? How could she say no without ruining everything they had? But how could she say yes? They’d been together barely four months. She was happy now; why did he have to go and complicate things?
‘I haven’t put a bomb in there, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ he said with a playful nudge.
A bomb might feel less dangerous right now, Phoebe thought. Locating the seam, she took a deep breath, cracked it open and peered inside.
‘A key?’ She held it up, relief flooding through her. ‘What’s this for?’
‘For this place,’ Jack smiled. ‘I know you think it’s too soon to move in and I respect your decision, but I want you to feel as if you belong and that you can come and go as you please.’
‘Wouldn’t that be a bit weird and awkward?’
‘I don’t walk around the house in a gimp suit, you know. You won’t find me doing anything kinky if you call around unannounced.’
Phoebe giggled. ‘Now, there’s an idea…’
‘So, you’ll take it in the spirit in which it was intended?’
She reached to kiss him, that warm glow spreading through her again. ‘Thank you.’ As she pulled away and nuzzled into his embrace, a slow smile spread across her face. ‘I’ll call around tomorrow with the whips and chains,’ she whispered.
Midnight revved up the tiny car and watched it flirt across the shop floor as she let go. She turned to Phoebe with a grin.
‘You really couldn’t work anywhere else, could you?’ Phoebe asked with a wry smile.
‘Where else would I get paid for playing with toys all day long?’
‘You’re not actually supposed to play with them. Your job is to sell them so that other people – mainly the small people they were intended for – can play with them.’
‘Those funny little people who aren’t quite the right size and are always covered in sticky substances?’ Midnight asked.
‘Yes… commonly referred to as children.’ Phoebe made little speech marks in the air.
‘I’m testing. To make sure everything is play-worthy.’
‘Hmmm, I wonder if Steve would buy that.’
Midnight waved a dismissive hand. ‘What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’
Phoebe glanced up as a figure approached. ‘You’d better look sharp; otherwise he will know in the next few seconds!’
Midnight leapt to her feet. ‘That brain donor will have to get up early in the morning to catch me. In fact, he’d have to get up the night before and camp out.’
Phoebe stifled a giggle as he made his way over.
‘What are you two looking so cheerful about?’ Steve’s nostrils were flared in a way that suggested a permanent state of near-fatal high blood pressure. At first, Phoebe had been alarmed by this sight whenever she had the misfortune to witness it. But as the months progressed, she realised that this was actually her boss in a good mood. Steve in a bad mood looked like an atomic bomb ready to go off.
‘We love being here,’ Midnight replied with a cheeriness that Phoebe knew would set the Steve-bomb ticking. ‘We’re delirious as soon as we set foot in the door. In fact, when I say my prayers at night, I ask for an extra special favour from God. I ask him to please make sure nobody shoves a box of lit fireworks through the letterbox of Hendry’s toy store so that I can just have one more glorious day of working there.’
Steve’s jaw tightened. He seemed to be labouring for an appropriate reply but then abandoned the cause. ‘Is that doll display finished, as I asked you half an hour ago?’
‘Yup. I left Barbie and Ken doing a sixty-nine over the bonnet of a beach buggy.’
Steve snorted, his face transforming from crimson to a dangerous shade of puce. ‘You’d better not –’
‘The display looks great,’ Phoebe cut in, trying not to laugh. ‘Midnight has a real creative flair. You should give her the window dresser’s job.’
‘Her!’ Steve jabbed a finger in Midnight’s direction. ‘God only knows what gothic monstrosities we’d have in there. She’d have Frankenstein complete with bolts scaring the children half to death.’
‘The monster didn’t have bolts and he wasn’t called Frankenstein,’ Midnight fired back. ‘And I’m not a goth…’ she glared at him. ‘Ignoramus,’ she added under her breath.
‘What do you call that then?’ He flapped a dismissive hand at her purple hair. ‘Left to me we’d have a policy against that sort of weirdness in my shop.’
‘You’d be the first one to get sacked then,’ Midnight pouted. ‘And it’s not actually your shop. It’s owned by people who aren’t narrow-minded bigots with no concept of creativity or artistic expression.’
Steve opened his mouth to argue, hesitated for a moment, gaping like a basking shark waiting for a fishy feast, and then shut it, clearly deciding that, once again, he had no reply for Midnight’s assertions. Phoebe wondered whether he had even understood most of it. ‘Just get the place ready before th
e doors open.’
‘Chill… it’s a Wednesday in April. It’s not like we’re going to get mobbed, is it?’
‘Ten minutes!’ Steve called behind him as he marched away.
Phoebe glanced around the pristine shop floor and shrugged at Midnight. ‘You can’t help yourself can you?’ she asked. ‘It’s like catnip to Mr Tiddles… throw a Steve in your path and you have to wind him up.’
‘The man is a prize dick,’ Midnight replied as she watched his retreating figure.
‘Prize dick or not, I’ve got to keep on his good side for the next week. At least until this interview is done.’
‘Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that. Steve likes you.’
‘How do you figure that out? He’s vile to me.’
‘He hasn’t actively tried to get you sacked yet, though. Always a good sign.’
‘It won’t last if you keep riling him. I’ll be targeted by association.’
Midnight gave her a sideways look. ‘You don’t have to hang out with me.’
‘That’s true. But you’re about the only person working here who doesn’t have hair on their palms so I’ll take my chances.’
‘I won’t tell the others you said that.’
‘You don’t talk to the others.’
‘I do!’ Midnight said in a hurt voice. ‘I talk to Jeff.’
‘Only to see if he has a spare drop of whisky in his hip flask.’
‘And I talk to Sally in Pre-School.’
‘Only because she always has ciggies.’
‘You make me sound horrible.’
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 1
