The Not So Perfect Plan to Save Friendship House: An uplifting romantic comedy

by Lilly Bartlett

  He lights Dad’s candles. ‘Ready? I’ll open the door.’

  Neither of us mentions his work again. He leaves on Saturday to go straight to the office. And now, knowing why, I can’t even give him a hard time about it, like I normally would. That puts me in a bad mood. On top of worrying about what Nick and Tamsyn might be up to.

  I ring June. She always talks sense into me. ‘Are you in the office?’ I ask when she picks up.

  ‘No, I’m in an echoey part of the flat.’

  ‘There are no echoey parts in your flat,’ I remind her. ‘June, you promised.’ I’m surrounded by workaholics.

  ‘Don’t have a go at me. I only came in for a few minutes to make sure the new residents are okay. The women have put “Reserved” signs on the dining tables, you know. They’ve hung them all over the living rooms too. The free chairs are miles away from the TVs.’

  ‘I saw Rosemary making the signs in art club,’ I admit.

  ‘Isolating the men isn’t going to help,’ she goes on. ‘Look at Terence. He needs to be around people more, not less. He’s a menace when he’s bored.’

  The man actually took a sledgehammer to his bedroom wall yesterday. We thought the house was coming down. By the time Nick and June got up there, he’d broken through the plaster into the next room. He said he’d always meant to turn his bedroom into a suite. It was a good thing there wasn’t anyone living next door to him.

  Now June’s had to move him into another room until the builders can figure out what to do about it. I think Max is crackers to let him get away with that. I’d brick up that wall and make Terence pay for it. Unfortunately, as Terence keeps reminding everyone, it’s his wall, in his house, so he really can do whatever he likes. Max panics every time he threatens to cut him out of the will.

  ‘I’m glad you rang,’ she says.

  ‘Even though I’m bollocking you for being in the office?’

  ‘Even so. Would you like to go out with me and Callum for dinner?’

  I’m sure she can hear the smile in my voice when I ask when.

  ‘Tomorrow night. Nick is coming too. And don’t say no, or that you want more notice or anything ridiculous like that. If I give you too long to get worked up about going out with Nick, you’ll only be a basket case when the time comes.’

  ‘I won’t.’ I would. ‘There’s nothing between me and Nick,’ I remind her for the thousandth time. She wants me and Callum to get to know each other, and she thinks she’s doing me a favour by having Nick there. Why would she let a little thing like his girlfriend – or as good as – get in the way of my love life?

  ‘If there’s nothing between you then there’s no reason to be nervous,’ she says. ‘Nick’s looking forward to it.’

  ‘You’ve asked him already?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘You know you’re a scheming cow,’ I say.

  ‘And you love me for it. I’m so excited, Phoebe, honestly this feels like a real relationship now.’

  ‘June, you’ve been seeing Callum for months. It has gone way beyond a casual hook-up. As much as you tried to make him think it was.’

  She laughs. ‘I mean it feels like he’s really here. With me. He wants to be with me. Like a real relationship. I’m so excited for tomorrow!’ she says again.

  Actually, so am I. Only it’s not because I’ll finally get to know Callum better.

  Chapter 15

  My tummy could be on Great Britain’s Olympic gymnastics team. Its double backflip is a gold medal winner, for sure. I’m still on the motorway when my phone rings. Nick’s name lights up as it vibrates across the passenger seat. Tempting, but I’d hate for my obituary to read: Sadly, it was the first time she’d ever used her phone while driving.

  ‘Any chance you want to meet early for a drink?’ he says when I ring him back from the parking spot in front of my flat. I haven’t even unbuckled my seatbelt.

  My heart soars. Yes yes yes yes yes. Then I yank it back down to earth with a thump. Get over yourself, Phoebe. This is a friendly invitation, not a romantic one. ‘If you want. I’m just back from my dad’s.’ It’s nearly six already, and we’re meeting June at seven-thirty.

  ‘Do you need to go home first or…?’

  No need to mention that I am home. I should go inside, throw in a load of laundry so I don’t have to wear my swimsuit bottoms to work, and calmly meet him at the restaurant as planned. Or at the very least, unpack from the weekend. Dad sent me home with about half a dozen half-eaten cheeses. They should go into the fridge, not stink up my car while I go drinking with my hopeless crush. Even if it weren’t for the cheeses or the swimsuit bottoms, I shouldn’t drop everything just because he’s asked me. I could probably learn something from June. Cool is definitely better.

  ‘Nope, I can meet now,’ I say, digging around in my bag for my hairbrush. I might have an ancient eyeliner in there too. What else are rear-view mirrors for? I’ll worry later about sounding like a desperate Sally no-mates. ‘I just need to ring my brother quickly. See you soon.’

  My brother oozes his typical warmth and kindness when he answers my call. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just checking in to see that you’re all right.’

  ‘I’m busy, Phoebes. We’re in the middle of something.’

  ‘You’re in the office?’ I’m surprised he picked up.

  ‘I told you it’s crazy right now.’

  ‘Right, well, just making sure you’re all right.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he says.

  He means to be sarcastic, but that makes me smile. ‘Play nice with the other boys,’ I say, then hang up on him.

  The pub where June and I usually go isn’t far from the restaurant, though it’s not till I’m walking towards the door to meet Nick that I wonder whether suggesting it was a good idea. Someone I know might start talking to me, and then I’ll have to introduce Nick and there’ll be three of us in the conversation when I really really want Nick to myself. Or the local friendly train spotter could be there. What if he gets his logbook out to show me? It does happen, and I’d be happy to talk to him any other time. Just not tonight.

  ‘You look nice!’ Nick says, jumping up from one of the barstools when he sees me.

  I wouldn’t normally have fancy clothes with me when I go to Dad’s, but being his birthday and all, Mum was in my head as I packed. Do try to make an effort, Phoebe! It’s an occasion. As it happened, Dad and I slobbed out all weekend without leaving the house.

  The car’s gearstick didn’t make it easy to get my tights on, and I couldn’t zip my dress till I got out, but Mum would be happy seeing me make the unusual effort tonight. She wouldn’t like my ponytail, though. I did try taking it down, but having it up in a hair tie the entire weekend meant my hair had a ridge along the back that gave it a very White Cliffs of Dover effect.

  ‘I don’t usually get to see you without your chef clothes on,’ he says. His eyes catch mine.

  How does he want me to take that? He’s still watching me. I have to say something. ‘Play your cards right.’ I murmur this. If he didn’t mean anything, then I will absolutely pretend I didn’t say it.

  ‘I’m hoping for a lucky hand,’ he practically whispers.

  I’m not imagining things. Nick is flirting with me! He could have just laughed it off or changed the subject or pretended he’s deaf in one ear. My breath hitches in my throat as I grin at him. We are, finally, truly back to the way things were before the secret supper club.

  When we get our drinks and move to one of the small tables, our chat is as relaxed as it ever was. I tell him about my weekend at Dad’s, and how hard it is to be sure he’s really all right. I’ve got this gnawing fear that he’s sadder than he lets on, that I’m not doing enough for him.

  Nick is nodding. ‘I thought Mum was a rock when my dad passed away,’ he says. ‘But she was broken inside. She was just too worried about me to show it. We didn’t talk about that until years later.’

  ‘That doesn’t make me fee
l any better, you know, but thanks.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m sure it’s different with your dad. You’re older than I was. Plus, he’s not responsible for you. What I mean is, I was still a child. Mum wanted to keep everything normal at home. My dad passed away the week before my fourteenth birthday. Poor Mum went ahead with a party for me and my friends, even though it was in the middle of her having to make funeral arrangements too.’

  ‘That sucks,’ I say. When I reach out to squeeze his hand, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to do.

  Nick turns his palm to mine and grips my fingers. At first, I’m sure my feelings can’t possibly measure up to all that I’ve imagined for so long about this moment. But then I realise that they do. I never want to let go of his hand. I can always learn to feed myself with the other one, and trade in my car for an automatic.

  ‘It does suck,’ he says. ‘But at least it wasn’t a heart attack. Sorry. I mean that it wasn’t sudden with Dad. He got cancer, so we had time to say goodbye. On the other hand, we had to watch him go. So, it still sucked.’ He sips his pint.

  ‘My mum seemed perfectly fine the last time I saw her. I mean, she was in hospital and had monitors on… reluctantly, but she was just as—’ I almost say difficult. ‘Just as strong as ever. It was hard to believe she died. It still is sometimes. I forget, you know? I’ll see or hear something and forget that I can’t tell Mum.’

  And then there’s the small matter of her still talking to me in my head.

  He understands exactly what I mean, and while I’m sad that he’s lost a parent, because I’d never wish that on a friend, I’m comforted that he’s lost one too. Chances are his dad didn’t criticise him at every turn, though, so I’m keeping further thoughts about Mum to myself.

  Our fingers have unwound by the time we finish our drinks, but I don’t mind now that I know Nick feels the same way I do. ‘What did you get up to this weekend?’ I ask him when we’re nearly ready to go meet June and Callum.

  I thought a lot about that question later. Did I want to be hit with a reality check? Because I must have known, or at least suspected, the answer. I should have been braced for it, boarded up and waiting for Hurricane Tamsyn to make landfall.

  His eyes slide away from mine. That’s most unlike him. ‘Just some errands and stuff, nothing much,’ he mumbles. ‘It was a quiet one.’

  He was with her.

  June is already at the table when we arrive, but Callum is late. She looks nervy. ‘He’s just making a big entrance,’ I tell her.

  She laughs, but the worry is still there underneath. I hadn’t thought about Callum not showing up tonight. He’d better not be playing games with her. It has taken long enough for her to trust that he won’t do a runner. If he dares break her heart now, I will kill him.

  Besides, I’ve had enough game-playing tonight. I glance again at Nick. The worst part might be the disappointment in him. I really, really didn’t think he was a player. Yet he couldn’t even look at me while he evaded my question. In all the months we’ve been friends, he’s never been dishonest. At least I don’t think he has.

  I push those thoughts aside. It’s about June now.

  ‘Are you worried?’ I murmur to her as Nick gives the waiter his drink order.

  ‘Uh-huh.’ She bouffs up her curls. She’s smiling, though, so she doesn’t want to bring up any concerns in front of Nick.

  He leans into the table. ‘All right, June, before he gets here, let’s dish on Callum.’

  ‘Dish?’ I say. ‘While it’s just us girls, you mean?’

  He doesn’t have to be so damn amusing.

  As June goes into forensic detail about their relationship so far, I watch Nick absorb it all. If he’s not fascinated, then he’s doing an excellent acting job. His face is alive as June talks. His dark eyes dance, his smile is quick and warm and even his too-thick eyebrows are cute when they bounce up and down. Which just makes me feel worse.

  ‘He sounds like the perfect man.’ Nick raises his beer bottle. ‘Seriously, June, he does, and he sounds perfect for you too. I haven’t known you that long, but I feel like I do know you a bit.’ He straightens up. ‘He’d better turn up soon or he’ll have to answer to me.’

  June and I both snort at the thought of Nick fighting. He’s more likely to hug a person to death. ‘Luckily he’s off the hook. See for yourself,’ she says, looking over our shoulders. Her grin couldn’t get any bigger. ‘Here he is.’

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ says Callum, hauling June from her chair. Then he envelops her in his arms and they kiss with swoon-making passion. Oh my. To be kissed like that.

  His hair is down tonight, and I was right, it falls in shiny waves just to his shoulders. With the tan, he looks even more like a surfer than he does when it’s up in a bun. ‘Phoebe, hi!’ He pulls me into a bear hug. ‘It’s great to see you. And you’re Nick? I’ve heard a lot about you. The man of many talents.’ He sticks out his hand. ‘June says the home wouldn’t run without you.’

  Nick shrugs. ‘It’d just be weedier, that’s all.’

  June can’t keep her eyes off Callum as he talks to us. She practically shoots off sparks every time he touches her. But she’s not saying much, which isn’t like her. Normally I can barely shut her up. Nerves, maybe, about him being with us.

  She’s practically mute all the way through dinner. And June’s not really June if she’s not wading in with her opinions. She might be measured at work, but out in the wild she usually likes to let loose.

  ‘Where’d you study?’ Callum asks Nick when he explains his job.

  ‘Brunel.’ He’s talking into his beer bottle.

  When Nick doesn’t elaborate, Callum shakes his head. ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘In London. Near London. Uxbridge. What about you? Where’d you go?’

  ‘Warwick,’ says Callum. ‘The coursework was intense but aside from that, I loved being there. It’s so much better than the real world, isn’t it?’

  He’s looking at me. ‘I didn’t go to uni, so I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘You went to catering college, though,’ June says. ‘It’s kind of the same thing. Callum, Phoebe is the most amazing chef.’

  She doesn’t want me to feel left out. No matter how many times I’ve told her I wasn’t interested in university – about a million – she never quite believes me. I guess it’s hard not to judge someone else by what you want for yourself.

  It’s really true, though. Even Mum at her judgey worst couldn’t make me wish I’d gone. I don’t feel like I’ve missed out. I would have missed out on the bistro if I’d gone to uni.

  But that’s a serious answer for a friendly Sunday night meal, so instead I say, ‘Except I didn’t have to spend three years in classes and the library, and I was already making a living while you were searching down the back of the sofa cushions for beer money.’

  June raises her wine glass to mine. ‘You always were the smart one.’

  Nick smiles at me too. ‘Cheers to the road less travelled.’

  It’s tempting to be excited by this small attention. Everything inside me craves it. But I know it’s not real. Yes, at this very moment I’m having a great time, and Nick might even be thinking the same thing. But as soon as he goes home tonight, he’ll be back in the real world where he’s seeing Tamsyn. And I’ll be… what? Tragically lusting after him. I wish hearts were as easy to change as minds are.

  Nick’s mood weirdly shifts when June announces, ‘Callum owns a yurt company!’

  ‘… Yurts?’ Nick says.

  ‘You know, tents,’ June says.

  ‘Thanks, I know what a yurt is.’

  Callum takes a last swig of his beer. ‘Yeah, we set them up for festivals and weddings, any event really. And it’s my parents’ business, not mine,’ he gently chides June. ‘I’m the day-to-day manager. I usually get to swing tickets to the festivals. It’s important to be on-site, you know.’ He laughs.

  But Nick’s not laughing.
Maybe he hates glamping. He gets up and feels his jeans pocket, where I can see the outline of his phone. ‘’Scuse me. Just need the… I’ll be right back.’

  Callum gets up too. ‘Relax,’ he says, laughing at Nick’s surprised look, ‘I’m not going in with you.’ He takes his vape from his pocket. ‘I swapped one bad habit for another. Do you mind?’ he asks June. ‘I’ll be quick.’

  ‘No, go ahead, and take your time. Phoebe and I want to talk about you anyway.’

  He gives her a devastating smile.

  ‘Is he not amazing?’ she whispers when he’s barely left the table. ‘This is it, Phoebe, the real thing. I can’t even start to explain how it feels.’ She lets out a huge sigh.

  ‘He’s really nice,’ I say carefully. ‘Though is everything okay? You do seem a lot quieter than usual tonight.’

  ‘Of course everything is okay. It’s perfect.’

  ‘Are you just nervous? It seems like you’re holding back or something.’

  ‘Not at all.’ There’s an edge to her voice now.

  But she definitely is. Maybe this isn’t the right time to say anything, but I’ve started. ‘I’ve never seen you so demure.’

  ‘Demure? You’ve been reading too much Jane Austen.’ She laughs.

  ‘Yeah, probably. As long as you’re being completely yourself with him.’

  ‘What do you mean by that? Who else would I be?’

  ‘You tell me. You’re acting different. It’s noticeable. I wouldn’t want you not to be yourself, that’s all. He will like you for you.’ Even though I’m not a hundred per cent sure this is true. She’s fought every instinct to be herself since they started going out. What if he only likes the false June?

  ‘So, I’ve tricked him into liking me.’ She crosses her arms. ‘That’s what you’re saying.’

  This is going downhill. ‘I’ve only said what you already know: you’ve been playing games so far, but you don’t need to.’

  ‘Stop it, Phoebe. Just stop. I’m happy, that’s all. If I’m letting Callum talk more than me, it’s because you already know me. You’ve heard all my nonsense.’