‘It does rush by,’ Martha agreed.
‘Hugh!’ A voice thundered across the restaurant, making them all snap their heads round in surprise.
Phoebe’s dad broke into a broad grin. ‘Geraint! You big lump, what are you doing here?’
Geraint ambled over. Looking at his plate, groaning with a teetering pile of meat and potatoes and not a ghost of a vegetable to be seen, it was pretty obvious what he was doing. A plan to single-handedly exacerbate third world hunger, break the world record for most gravy sucked up in one go, embarrass Phoebe by making some inappropriate comment that would reveal how much he fancied her, possibly introduce Maria to some choice new swearwords… any of the above would probably fit the bill. As Jack stared wonderingly at the human mountain before him, Phoebe wanted to slide under the table and hide until he was gone. She prayed that her dad wouldn’t do anything stupid like invite Geraint to–
‘Come on, lad,’ Hugh said, ‘pull up a chair and join us!’
Phoebe swallowed the groan in her throat. She wanted to throw the salt cellar at her dad’s head.
Geraint’s gaze ran over the party. He seemed to do a little mental calculation as it rested on Phoebe for a moment, and then on Jack, and then back again.
‘I wouldn’t want to intrude,’ he said. For once, Phoebe was impressed by his gallantry and perception of the situation. Maybe he wasn’t such a big Muppet after all. Geraint continued, ‘I just wanted to say hello. Didn’t think it would be right not to.’
‘Quite right, lad. After all, you’ll be shooting me next time I see you.’ Hugh let out a huge roar of a laugh and Geraint joined in.
‘I thought I might disembowel you or something this time. I’m a bit bored of gunning folks down.’
Just as Hugh was about to throw a witty remark back, there was a splutter from across the table and Jack started to choke. Phoebe looked around in alarm as Maria leapt up on her chair and hammered on his back. Phoebe poured a glass of water and shoved it into his hand as he became redder. It was all Jack could do to get any of the water to stay in his mouth with the force of Maria’s blows, and he couldn’t speak to communicate that she should stop.
The next moments were a blur. Geraint dropped his enormous plate to the table and hauled Jack from his chair. Martha let out a squeal of horror as Geraint flung Jack around, wrapped two gargantuan arms around his midriff and began to squeeze the life from him in violent bursts. It was possible that he was performing the Heimlich manoeuvre but it was a pretty safe bet that nobody present in the restaurant that day had ever seen it done with such misguided zeal. Jack’s arms flailed madly as Geraint pummelled him. Maria wailed as she watched; Hugh was open-mouthed and dumbstruck, while Phoebe and her mother bellowed instructions to put Jack down that Geraint completely ignored. Other diners were now staring at the commotion and wondering what to do as Jack gasped and Geraint squeezed. Some dialled for ambulances while others took surreptitious photos. At some point during the next twenty-four hours, it was likely that a video featuring what looked like violent man-love would be going viral. A chef from the carvery hotplate came hurrying over, at which point, a particularly gristly chunk of beef flew from Jack’s mouth and hit the unfortunate chef square in the eye.
‘That’s got it!’ Geraint said, releasing his grip on Jack and wiping sweat from his brow. ‘Better?’
Jack nodded mutely, a hand to his throat. The chef stared at each of Phoebe’s party in turn, shook his head in wonderment, and made his escape. Geraint, meanwhile, tipped an imaginary hat to Phoebe and Martha, retrieved his plate and sauntered through the crowd to his own table as if nothing had happened. ‘See you next month for a bit of blood and gore!’ he called as he went.
Hugh gave a tiny nod while Jack took his seat with a slight whimper.
‘One of your re-enactors?’ he asked in a hoarse voice.
‘He is,’ Hugh replied, taking a huge glug of ale.
‘I don’t think he needs weapons. He could tear a man limb from limb.’
By this point Maria had thrown her arms around Jack, her face buried in his shoulder and sobbing noisily.
‘Daddy’s alright,’ Jack said, stroking her hair and pulling her into his arms. ‘There’s no need to get upset.’
‘Oh my God, Jack!’ Phoebe squeaked. ‘What on earth happened?’
‘Went down the wrong hole. It would have come up, I’m sure.’
‘It came up alright,’ Hugh said, taking another massive swig of his drink.
‘I really thought you were going to get carted off in an ambulance,’ Phoebe said.
‘That was all a bit embarrassing really, wasn’t it? Talk about an introduction we won’t forget in a hurry.’ Jack gave a rueful smile.
Hugh suddenly erupted into hearty laughter. ‘Aye lad, this is one Sunday lunch we won’t forget for a long time to come!’
Maria seemed back to her normal self as Jack closed the front door and she raced upstairs to stow away the new pink pony Martha had given her. Phoebe thought it a lovely gesture on her mum’s part. Martha Clements seemed to disapprove of many things and voiced her opinions rather too vociferously at times, but underneath it all, she was kind and sweet. That she had been out and bought Maria a gift for their first meeting (and had even chosen a moment when Phoebe was not in work so that the question of the staff discount would not arise) had touched her and made her very proud of her mum. The fact that Martha had behaved herself too and not aired any embarrassing views was an added bonus. One thing was certain, as far as Maria was concerned, the new toy and the half gallon of ice-cream she had consumed in place of any actual food meant that Jack’s choking drama was well and truly forgotten.
Jack draped an arm around Phoebe’s shoulder as they stood in the hallway and watched her go. ‘It wasn’t too bad in the end, was it?’
‘Apart from the fact that you nearly choked to death? I suppose it wasn’t. All those weeks of worrying for nothing, eh?’
‘Do you think they approve of me?’
‘I do…’ Phoebe smiled. ‘I knew they would.’
‘I thought… you know… with me having a child… well… some people can be funny about it, can’t they?’
‘In your circumstances I don’t know how anyone could hold that against you.’ Phoebe put her mother’s initial reservations firmly out of her mind and resolved never to mention them to Jack.
‘So, they like us?’
‘Definitely. Although I’m sure the thing with Geraint helped.’
‘Really?’
‘You’d have to love a man who endured an assault like that and didn’t press charges.’
‘A man that size?’ Jack rubbed absently at his throat as if reliving the event. ‘I wouldn’t dare press charges in case I met him afterwards in a dark alley. I’d have to go into a witness protection programme just for sneezing in his direction…’
‘Ah, he’s just a big, cuddly grizzly bear really. Dad’s known him for years. Besides… I have a lot to thank him for right now. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d properly choked.’
In a swift movement, Jack pressed her up against the wall, his nose touching hers as he gazed into her eyes. ‘Are you saying you’d miss me?’
‘Maybe… only a little bit… for getting rid of spiders and stuff…’
‘Is that all?’ He gave her a kiss that took her breath away.
‘You make good cakes too.’
He smiled and kissed her again. ‘I feel as though we’ve reached a milestone today… y’know?’
‘Kiss me again while I think about that,’ Phoebe whispered.
He obliged, the delicate skill of his touch setting her nerve ends alight. It was all she could do to stop herself dragging him through to the sofa and ripping his clothes off. ‘You’re going to save me some of that for when we’re alone later?’ she asked.
‘What the lady wants the lady gets.’ He kissed her lightly on the nose.
‘What the lady wants right now she can’t have. But
I’ll settle for a cup of coffee until later.’
‘Come on, bossy.’ Jack laughed and took her hand to lead her to the kitchen. She flopped into a chair at the table while he filled the kettle.
‘Seriously, though, I’m glad that’s over.’ Phoebe leaned on the table as she watched him spoon instant coffee into two mugs, chin resting on her fist. ‘We just need to do your parents now and then we can relax.’
‘Yeah…’ Jack’s reply trailed to nothing.
‘So…’ Phoebe continued, ‘when shall we do it?’
‘Do you want something with this? I mean, I have syrup if you want it flavouring or anything.’
‘No, I’m good. Plain coffee is fine.’ She waited for him to reply.
‘When shall we do your parents?’ she asked again.
‘Soon…’ He hesitated, ‘there’s stuff going on at the moment…’
‘But they know about me. Even your uncle does. Don’t they want to meet me? Aren’t they a bit interested?’ Phoebe frowned. ‘My parents wanted to meet you right away. It was the first thing they asked when I told them I was seeing someone.’
‘The difference is that you didn’t mention me to them at all for months. I hardly think you can have a go at me.’
‘I’m not… of course I’m not. Jack… I didn’t mean…’
‘I know.’ He let out a heavy sigh. ‘We’ll do it. I want them to meet you and love you just like I do, it’s just…’
‘What?’
‘Mum’s kinda protective.’
‘Of Maria?’
‘Partly. And of Rebecca too.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘It’s hard to understand, I know. My mum adored her. She was devastated when Rebecca died. It was like she’d lost her own daughter, and she’s still very close to Rebecca’s mum too. I think she has this weird idea that she’d be betraying her or something, if she let someone else into her heart.’
Phoebe wondered about a woman who didn’t want her son to move on and be happy rather than spend his whole life mourning. ‘But Rebecca died five years ago…’
‘I know. I’m sure it feels odd to you that I’ve learned how to deal with it and my mother hasn’t. I just don’t know if she’s ready to accept a replacement.’
‘I’m not trying to replace her.’
‘I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I know you’re not. Listen… I’m being an idiot. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
‘Archie will have told them bits about me, won’t he?’ Phoebe mused. ‘So I won’t be a complete shock?’
Jack’s expression darkened. Phoebe felt the ground shift uncomfortably beneath her. If the conversation about his mum was difficult enough, further discussion of his brother promised to be a minefield. Perhaps it was best avoided at this point.
But fate had other ideas. Jack’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glowered at the screen.
‘Alright?’ he asked as he swiped the screen and took the call. It didn’t sound as if he cared much about the welfare of the caller.
Phoebe could hear the distant murmur of another voice at the other end of the line but couldn’t make out the words. Jack’s were clear enough though.
‘No, absolutely not! If mum finds out… this is not funny anymore…’ Jack glanced at Phoebe. ‘Hang on…’ He made his way to the kitchen door. ‘Sorry,’ he said to Phoebe, ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
She heard the living room door slam and then his voice instantly muffled.
With a feeling somewhere between anxiety and irritation, Phoebe made a snap decision. She hurried through to the hallway and pressed her ear to the living room door.
Jack’s voice was low and tense. ‘This can’t keep happening. You’re going to break mum’s heart when she finds out.’ Phoebe listened, her brow contracted into an involuntary frown. ‘No!’ Jack continued. ‘That’s absolutely not going to happen…’
She was distracted by a noise from the stairs. Maria stood on the third step looking down at her.
‘Shhh.’ Phoebe raced up with a finger to her lips, embarrassed that she’d been caught, even though Maria probably didn’t understand that anything untoward was going on. ‘What do you need, sweetie?’
‘Where’s Daddy?’
‘He’s on the phone… Do you want a drink? I can make you a hot chocolate.’
Maria shook her head.
‘Want to play a game?’
‘Tag?’
‘I’m a bit too full to play tag. How about I Spy?’
Maria nodded and followed Phoebe to the kitchen.
‘Right then…’ Phoebe said as they sat down, ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with… T.’
Whilst Maria went through a list of everything in the kitchen, regardless of what letter it began with, Phoebe’s thoughts whirled. She only half listened, more concerned with the drama unfolding in the living room and frustrated that she still couldn’t get to the bottom of it.
‘Table!’ Maria yelled, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Sorry?’
‘Table!’ Maria repeated with a sigh. ‘I said it three times.’
‘I’m sorry; I was in my own little dream world.’ Phoebe smiled. ‘Table is right. You’re too good for me at this game.’
‘My turn now… I spy with my little eye, something beginning with… um… light!’
‘Hmmmm, is it light?’ Phoebe laughed.
Maria giggled. Then Jack appeared at the kitchen door.
‘Sorry about that. Everything okay?’
Phoebe nodded silently, trying to gauge his mood. He looked about as far from relaxed and happy as it was possible to look. Phoebe had never seen a man cry but she was afraid she was about to. She glanced at Maria, who seemed to sense the tension too as her giggles evaporated.
‘Are you feeling poorly, daddy?’
‘I’m fine, spud.’
Phoebe couldn’t agree less, but knew that now wasn’t the time. In fact, she wondered whether she ought to get Maria out of the way for a while and let him pull himself together. She didn’t have children of her own, but she had learned pretty quickly over the last few months that they sensed with unsettling ease when something was really wrong and could be affected by it too.
‘Hey, Maria…’ she said. ‘How do you fancy a go on the swings in the park?’
Maria’s troubled expression brightened. ‘Yes! Now?’
‘Sure, why not now? Get your coat and shoes on and we’ll go.’
Maria raced out to get ready.
‘There’s no need…’ Jack began, but Phoebe held a hand up.
‘I think there is. Besides, I could do with some air.’
He looked as though he might argue for a moment, and then gave her a strained smile. ‘Thanks. Don’t be out too long; Maria needs a bath ready for school tomorrow.’
‘An hour, tops. If you need me I have my phone.’
‘I don’t deserve you,’ Jack said.
‘Damn right,’ Phoebe smiled. ‘There is one thing though…’
‘Yeah?’
‘When you’ve pulled yourself together I want to know what’s going on.’
‘There’s no point in dragging you into it.’
‘I’m already in it. We’re together now; you shouldn’t have to muddle through everything alone.’
He let out a long sigh. ‘You’re right. I’ve been single for so long that I’ve forgotten how to share my life with someone else.’
‘So I get to hear it?’
‘Yes. Although you might wish you hadn’t asked when you do.’
Like a whippet on race day, Maria tore across the playground. Apart from the two of them, there were only three other families making use of the facilities and a small gang of sullen looking teens showing off to each other on skateboards across the far end. Phoebe was a little surprised to see it so empty on a Sunday afternoon, but there was a newer, bigger playground across the other side of town and perhaps people who had transport preferred to take the
ir children there. She watched Maria clamber up the steps to the slide as she jogged to catch up. ‘Be careful!’ she shouted. ‘Your dad won’t let me bring you again if you end up like Humpty Dumpty!’
‘I’m okay,’ Maria replied. In her haste to get to the top of the steps her arms and legs flailed madly; she looked like a stranded octopus trying to get back to the sea. ‘Look at me!’ she cried at the top before throwing herself down the slide at terrifying speed. She arrived safely at the bottom, but Phoebe didn’t think her heart would take another round of that. Maria simply grinned with manic glee and ran for the steps again.
‘How about I push you on the swings?’ Phoebe called, stopping Maria in her tracks.
‘Okay!’ Maria raced off again, this time her head narrowly missed by the feet of a kid on the big swings, his legs outstretched as he swooped back and forth.
‘Jesus!’ Phoebe muttered with her heart in her mouth. It was the first time Jack had given her sole charge of his daughter and Phoebe wasn’t sure she ever wanted the responsibility again. It was a lot scarier than she’d thought it would be. In fact, she’d seen less scary brawls in the pub she used to work in as barmaid.
At the smaller swings, Maria grasped a chain and tried to haul herself up into the seat as Phoebe made a panicked dash to assist her. ‘If you’d waited I could have helped,’ she said as she eased Maria into the safety seat.
‘I was okay,’ Maria squeaked. ‘High, Phoebe; I want to go high!’
‘I bet you do. Not too high or you’ll fly up into the clouds and get carried off by a bird.’
Maria giggled. ‘Silly!’
‘No I’m not. It’s a true thing that can happen.’
Maria’s eyes widened for a moment as she looked back at Phoebe. But then she grinned as she saw that Phoebe was unable to keep her face straight.
‘Higher, Phoebe!’
‘You are demanding, aren’t you? I bet you wear your daddy out every day.’
‘Mostly I’m at school.’
‘True. But when you’re at home.’
‘The grannies help him.’
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 11
