Sure enough, shortly after Phoebe had dialled the number, a sleepy voice answered.
‘Have you no respect? Seriously, Clements, it’s not even midday yet.’
‘Everyone knows about me and Adam,’ Phoebe hissed. She hadn’t planned to take Midnight to task in quite this way, but the morning’s events had soured her mood and addled her logic.
‘You and Adam?’ Midnight asked carelessly. ‘I thought there was no you and Adam… that’s what you keep telling me anyway.’
‘You know what I mean!’
‘The kissy kissy moment?’
‘It wasn’t a kiss!’
‘It looked like one from where I was standing. It probably looked like that to the rest of the town too.’
‘I was conned! Did you tell everyone?’
‘I didn’t need to. Or have you forgotten that you were on a roof at the time with a rather large audience?’
‘Very funny. No one knew it was us other than you.’
‘Gareth Parker did.’
‘He knew about Adam.’
‘He knew about you too. I bumped into him on the way to get changed. When I asked him why he was in his normal clothes he told me that Hendry had given him fifty quid to swap and keep his mouth shut. I told him I’d have done it for twenty. Anyway, he wanted to know why I wasn’t on the roof so I told him you wanted to do it… I didn’t think it was a secret.’
‘Yeah, but I was only doing it because you were too scared. Now it looks like Adam and I both decided we wanted to be up there together!’
‘I was hardly going to tell him that I was too chicken, was I? And Gareth is too thick to have come to that conclusion anyway.’
‘Other people will have done though.’
‘Okay… I’ll concede that might be true…’
‘Shit,’ Phoebe muttered. ‘Jack knows too,’ she added.
‘Jack? That sucks.’
‘It does more than suck. He got it from his mother, of all people, who told him she got it from Jack’s uncle Fred.’
‘The Applejack’s guy?’
‘How did he find out?’
Phoebe could almost hear Midnight’s nonchalant shrug. ‘I dunno. News just gets around this town.’
‘So nobody was blabbing about it… say… in the Bounty when they went to get their lunch?’
‘Is that what this phone call is really about? You think I blabbed to everyone?’
‘Not everyone. But you do tend to tell Stav things… And if that Linda woman who works for Fred was there…’
‘So you think it’s my fault?’
‘I didn’t say –’
‘I’m tired of being your hapless and amusing sidekick, Clements, and I’m tired of your dramas. You’re pregnant, Adam Hendry fancies you, your new job is so tough… deal with it like other people do because I don’t want to hear you whine anymore. Now if you don’t mind I want to go back to sleep.’
Before Phoebe had time to reply, Midnight ended the call. Phoebe stared at the phone screen as it faded to black. What had just happened? Somehow, she was now to blame for all the stuff that was Midnight’s fault. How could Midnight simply absolve herself of all responsibility like that? Phoebe knew her so well now – how much she loved to gossip, how easily she lost any sense of discretion when she had a juicy titbit to share. Even if Gareth Parker did know (or thought he knew the truth, which he didn’t) there was no way that rumour reaching Applejack’s could be down to him. It had to have been Midnight. How dare she cut Phoebe’s call short without so much as an apology? Phoebe was the injured party here and she had every right to be angry.
So why, as the townsfolk of Millrise hurried past beneath umbrellas and hoods and folded newspapers, did Phoebe feel so hollow about the whole thing? Why had her initial rage now turned to an uncomfortable niggle in the pit of her stomach? In a subconscious movement, her hand fluttered to her belly. She and Jack had agreed that they wouldn’t tell anyone yet, but perhaps if she made it public at Hendry’s, the news would be enough to put Adam off. The rumours certainly hadn’t been.
The more she thought about it, the more miserable Phoebe felt. Perhaps Midnight was right after all: perhaps this mess was of her own making and she was wrong to blame everyone else. If she grew a spine and told Adam straight then he’d have to leave her alone. If she’d been honest with Jack from the start he wouldn’t have been so shocked at the news his mother had so gleefully delivered and then she would have been able to tell him about the pregnancy under much better and kinder circumstances. And perhaps Phoebe would still have the support of a friend who had quickly become her rock, someone who brightened even the darkest days. Hendry’s without Midnight would be a much lonelier place.
Phoebe redialled her number. Unsurprisingly, it went straight to answerphone.
‘Midnight…’ Phoebe swallowed hard, fought to keep her voice from cracking. ‘It’s me… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have blamed you…’
There was nothing else to say. She ended the call and rubbed her eyes, head down so that nobody passing by would see her tears. Taking deep breaths she tried to get herself together. She couldn’t stay out here all morning but she couldn’t go back into the shop in this state.
‘Are you alright?’
Phoebe looked up to see Sue Bunce, water dripping off her hood, balancing a tray of take-out coffees as she held an umbrella over them, a look of concern on her face.
‘Having one of those days?’ Sue asked.
Phoebe gave her a watery smile, still too choked to speak. She hated it when people were kind, it always made her want to cry more.
‘I know those well,’ Sue said. ‘When you’ve worked here as long as I have they come around with every full moon. Anything a coffee and a chat would help with?’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she managed to utter in a strangled voice.
Sue gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Well my door is always open if you change your mind.’
‘Thanks…’
With an encouraging nod, Sue continued on her way. Phoebe stared out onto the street again. She took a deep breath. There were a million things on her desk that needed sorting and feeling sorry for herself would achieve nothing.
Every time Phoebe was there around bath time, Maria now insisted that Phoebe did it. Sometimes Jack protested, saying that Maria shouldn’t keep nagging Phoebe who was a guest and shouldn’t be asked to do chores. Sometimes he relented. Tonight was one of those nights, after much cajoling from both Maria and Phoebe (who insisted privately she now needed the practise).
So Phoebe found herself perched on the side of the bath, staring into space as Maria collected all the suds she could find into a giant bubble island, chattering through some imaginary scenario to herself as she went about her task with solemn concentration.
Midnight had returned to work and whilst she’d greeted Phoebe civilly enough as they’d passed on the stairs, there was a new frostiness that told Phoebe she was far from forgiven. Phoebe took her to one side and apologised again and Midnight told her not to worry and that the spat was forgotten, but it wasn’t true. For the rest of the day Midnight had been conveniently missing or too busy to talk whenever Phoebe went to look for her.
‘You’re sad,’ Maria said.
Phoebe shook away her melancholy thoughts to see that Maria had paused in her game and was watching her with a look of uncanny comprehension. Phoebe gave her an absent smile. ‘What makes you say that?’
Maria shrugged. ‘I just know.’
‘I’m okay.’
‘Daddy has been sad too.’
‘Has he? What makes you think that?’
Maria shrugged again. ‘His face.’
Phoebe couldn’t help a little laugh. ‘Has he told you he’s sad?’
Maria shook her head. ‘I haven’t told him I know about it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Um… I don’t know. But Archie did.’
‘What did Archie say?’
‘He said daddy was a miserable sod.’
‘Oh… perhaps you shouldn’t repeat that last bit to anyone else.’
‘Is it rude?’
‘A little bit.’
‘Okay…’ Maria hummed to herself as she went back to her bubbles. ‘Archie shouldn’t say that because he’s sad too.’
‘He is?’ Phoebe had never seen evidence of this but, on reflection, she didn’t doubt that he had plenty to be sad about. Maria nodded.
‘Yesterday he was sad at the table with Daddy.’
Phoebe was silent as she mulled this over. But when Maria didn’t offer further explanation she probed a little more. ‘Do you know why he was sad?’
‘No. But Daddy said he would talk to granny again and he would go with Archie to the college to talk to them too.’
‘What about?’
‘About Archie’s lessons, I think.’
‘How did you hear all this? Were you at the table with them?’
‘No. But I heard it when I came in to get some milk. Archie pretended he wasn’t crying and he started being funny but I could tell.’
‘What else did you hear?’
‘Not much. Daddy gave Archie a piece of paper and said he had to phone someone.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Was it the college?’
‘No. Daddy said he’d go there with Archie and not to worry about it. Someone else.’
Phoebe stared into the water as she turned this information over in her mind. Jack had told Archie to phone someone? Perhaps it was the gambling support group. Phoebe sincerely hoped so, although they had been down this road before and there was nothing to say that Archie would take Jack’s advice this time. She could only hope that eventually Jack would wear him down. She might not always see eye to eye with Archie but he was still a vulnerable young man working through a lot of problems right now, despite the front he always presented.
Maria had also said Jack was going to see someone at Archie’s college. Archie had missed a lot of lectures at college and he made no secret of the fact that the course choice – something Carol had apparently pushed him towards – was not one that made him happy. He was already a year behind too, after failing many of his modules. Perhaps the situation there now felt untenable to him? She would have to try and talk to Jack later, find out what was going on.
‘Why are you sad?’ Maria asked.
‘Me? I’m not sad.’
‘You look sad,’ Maria insisted.
Phoebe paused before she answered. She could deny it, of course, and that would be the easiest thing to do. But somehow, she felt that Maria, as young as she was, deserved a little bit of the truth. After all, she was being lied to enough right now and clearly, she had some inkling of that.
‘Lots of things are hard for me right now.’
‘What things?’ Maria looked up from her bubbles again.
‘Well… some people at work are making things a bit tricky.’
‘Have you broke friends with them?’
‘Um… yes… I suppose I have.’
‘I broke friends with Grace once.’
‘Oh dear. Were you upset?’
‘I cried to Miss Latham and she helped me make a sorry card for Grace because I’d shouted at her.’
‘And then Grace was friends with you again?’
‘Yup.’
‘So I should make a sorry card for Midnight?
Maria nodded. ‘Or you could buy her some sweets if you can’t draw.’
‘We all know I can’t draw.’ Phoebe laughed. ‘Did you think of that yourself?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘It’s a good idea.’
‘I know.’ Maria prodded a hole in her bubble island. It was obviously a deliberate design feature and, judging by the concentration on her face, served an important purpose in her game.
‘So you think we’ll be friends again after that?’ Phoebe asked.
‘Yes.’
Phoebe smiled down at her. A child’s logic was so black and white. It was a pity that adults didn’t view the world with as much pragmatism; it would make life a lot simpler. To make Jack’s mother like her, get Midnight talking to her again, persuade Archie to sort his life out, stop her parents lecturing her, convince Jack that everything would be okay once the baby was born, all she would need was a box of sweets.
The trick was getting Midnight alone, especially as she had been so careful to avoid Phoebe whenever possible over the last few days. In fact, not only was it difficult to get her alone, it was difficult to get her at all.
Phoebe had been struck by the simplicity of Maria’s solution. A peace offering, something from the heart, in this case a box of Midnight’s favourite jelly beans was what Phoebe had decided on to apologise. And she wanted to apologise, because she was truly sorry. Whether Midnight had been the source of the gossip or not, it would eventually have got out and, besides, Phoebe missed her friend like crazy. Midnight could be infuriating, irreverent, uncontrollable and scary, but she was always fun and she had a heart as big as Millrise itself.
In the end Phoebe had been forced to resort to drastic measures, lying in wait outside the shop doors to ambush her as she left to get her daily sandwich.
‘Boo!’ Phoebe leapt from behind a pillar. After planning on such a military scale – covertly checking Steve’s rota and then ensuring she got across the shop floor and outside before Midnight spotted her – it was not her most inspired moment, but it did the job.
Midnight spun around, hand to her chest. She didn’t look pleased.
‘Sorry…’ Phoebe said. ‘Did I make you jump?’
‘What do you want?’
‘A word –’
‘I’ve already told you I’m not bothered about your stupid phone call so you don’t need to keep apologising.’
‘I want us to be friends again.’
‘We are friends.’
‘No we’re not. We’re acquaintances who happen to work in the same store. Friends don’t avoid each other.’
‘Friends don’t phone and blame the other one for the fact that people have found out that the boss, who is making no secret of it anyway, fancies them.’
‘Ah! So it is still bothering you! I knew it.’
Midnight hunched her shoulders in a shrug that looked casual but was loaded with meaning. ‘Whatever.’
‘Come on,’ Phoebe pleaded. ‘Don’t let’s be like this. I’m miserable without you.’
‘You should have thought about that before.’
‘I know. I didn’t think. My head is a sea of not thinking with a tiny little raft drifting about on it holding my brain. There is so much not thinking that my brain doesn’t stand a chance.’
‘You’re so weird…’
‘You have every right to be angry,’ Phoebe continued.
‘Damn straight I do.’
‘So what can I do to make it up?’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Apart from that.’ Phoebe gave a hopeful smile as she pulled the box of jelly beans from behind her back. She’d tied a black bow around it and covered the box in glitter. Midnight’s frown cracked into a slow smile as Phoebe held the box out to her.
‘That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘A little bit,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘I’m crap at arts and crafts. But the sweets will taste okay.’
Midnight took the box. ‘Okay…’ she sighed, ‘you win. You’re forgiven this time.’
Phoebe pulled her into a hug. ‘There won’t be a next time, I promise.’
‘And don’t think I’m sharing these with you either,’ Midnight continued, shaking the box at Phoebe, who simply gave a delighted grin.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ She knew she would later, though.
Everywhere she looked, there were bumps of varying sizes. Women who looked tired, radiant, nervous, and some as though they were waiting at the supermarket checkout. A couple were with friends or female relat
ives, others with what seemed to be the expectant father, and one or two on their own. A box of toys in the corner of the room had drawn a crowd of hustling toddlers, negotiating in that strange toddler language for their playthings of choice. There was a cloying mix of scents – different deodorants and perfumes mixed with hospital cleaning fluid, and Phoebe was quite certain she detected the whiff of freshly filled nappy too – all of which wasn’t helping her nausea.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall again. Dixon had given her the morning off without any questions but his patience would only stretch so far and Phoebe didn’t want to push her luck.
‘Looking at it won’t make it go any faster,’ her mum said.
‘I know. It’s just so bloody hot in here it’s making me feel sick.’
‘It must be your turn soon,’ Martha replied in a reasonable tone that made Phoebe want to throw something at her. ‘I think most of the people here now came in after us.’
‘God, I hope so,’ Phoebe said, savagely fanning herself with a tattered magazine swiped from a pile on a nearby coffee table. ‘I don’t want to whine about it but I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out if I have to wait much longer.’
Martha let out a heavy sigh. ‘It is a bit warm,’ she agreed in a rather less dramatic voice. ‘I could get you some water.’
‘Mum, I’ve already drunk what they suggested for the scan. Any more and I will pee myself with such force that I’ll wash away everyone here.’
‘I’m just trying to help,’ Martha replied tartly.
Phoebe dropped the magazine to her lap. ‘I know… I’m sorry.’
‘You seem tense.’
‘Do I?’ Phoebe said, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.
‘It should be me that’s tense. I might have known this would happen.’
‘What?’
‘You getting into trouble.’
Phoebe rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not the fifties, Mum. No one says that any more.’
‘It’s a bit soon for a baby. Even you agree with that.’
‘True…’
‘And why isn’t your partner in crime here instead of me? He should be mopping your fevered brow and listening to you complain. After all, it is his fault.’
The Spring of Second Chances : An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy Page 23
