‘I’m pretty sure you do,’ Skye said sternly, ‘look at the evidence. All of these people were perfectly calm until you turned up. And now my mum’s shouting, and she never shouts.’
Lucas looked at Megan with surprise. ‘Is that true? Because when I knew her she could give as good as she got.’
‘Wasn’t that what got her into this situation in the first place?’ Claudia said, checking her nails. Four pairs of eyes zeroed in on her, and a faint blush appeared on her porcelain cheeks as she realised what she’d said out loud.
‘Well this has been delightful, but–’
‘Lucas, lad.’ Jonathan reached for his hand. ‘I’m so sorry son, we didn’t know, you should have said…’
Lucas shrugged, half-smiled at Megan. ‘I should probably catch up with the kids. They’re teenagers so they’re probably spending the charity money on booze or graffiti-ing something.’
‘Well, that’s an assumption.’ Skye returned to her power stance, hands on hips, guarding Megan. ‘And you know what they say about assumptions…’
‘Skye!’ Megan raised her eyebrows. ‘How do you know what they say about assumptions?’
‘Jeremy,’ Skye shrugged, and then returned her gaze to Lucas. ‘But the point is that it’s not nice, or fair to blame people for something before you know they’ve actually done it.’
‘That’s actually been the theme of this whole conversation.’ Lucas grinned and reached out a hand. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Skye. I’d always wondered what you’d be like.’ And with that he was gone, down the path, around the corner, leaving Megan free to have a nervous breakdown.
***
August 2004
They were lying in the park at the top of the hill, sunglasses on, listening to music from a tinny portable speaker.
‘All right, Angel?’ Lucas nudged her shoulder, squeezing her fingers.
‘Why do you call me that?’
‘Angel?’ Lucas grinned. ‘Because you are! You’re the good girl in the big house, and I’m the boy who sold his soul to the devil for rock and roll.’
‘If you’d sold your soul you’d play a lot better than you do,’ Megan laughed, ‘and I don’t know where you got this idea about me.’
‘It’s your halo, baby. Shining bright as always. It’s just the way it is; I break, you fix. I sin, you save.’
Megan sat up and took off her sunglasses so he could see the face she was making.
‘You have heard of the Madonna-Whore Complex?’
‘Is that her latest album?’ He laughed, still lying back against the grass.
‘Why do you think you’re the bad guy?’
‘Because the truth is that you’re going to go off and have this big exciting life. And as much as I want to make music, I’m gonna end up here. I’m going to look after my mum every time another fella leaves, and I’m gonna get a job in the mechanic’s or driving a tractor or something, and that’s it for me.’ He stretched briefly, catlike, before resting his hands behind his head again. His face didn’t change.
‘That doesn’t make you a bad guy,’ Megan said, stroking his cheek.
‘No, it doesn’t. But when the time comes for you to leave, I’m not going to be selfless. I’m not going to want to let you go. Even when it’s best for you. And that makes me a bad guy.’
Megan shook her head, but didn’t really know what to say, so she just lay down next to him and said nothing.
‘Don’t let me stop you, okay Angel? You’ve got big, important things to do. Don’t make me that person that stops you,’ Lucas said softly, kissing her cheek and turning the music up.
***
That night Megan escaped the family games night, and said she had some errands to run. She paused in the hallway, watching her daughter laughing at Matty, helping Jasper move the little pieces around the board on the coffee table. It was a picture-perfect tableau and she was glad to witness it. She was also glad not to be part of it. Somehow every time she was happy, it felt fake. And now there was one question gnawing at her that had to be answered. She was going to start putting stuff right, and it was going to start with Lucas.
After getting the address from Estelle, she jumped in the 2CV and trundled down the hill, out past the farms and the new-build flats, and then up higher and higher until she reached his house. The Foxhole, she noted the hand-carved sign. Cute. She turned off the engine and got out of the car, wavering about whether to knock.
It was a sweet bungalow, old fashioned, with a double barn door at the side, where she could see light escaping around the edges. Suddenly the top part of the door swung open, and there was Lucas, lighting up a cigarette and leaning on the door.
His eyes met hers in the darkness and he jumped.
‘Holy shit, woman! Did you come here to kill me?’ He clutched his chest, throwing the barely-lit cigarette out into a little tin bucket on the floor.
‘It’s not my fault you have no lights out here!’ she argued, moving forward.
‘Don’t have many visitors,’ he breathed, still sounding irritated. ‘I’m the town hermit.’
‘Know many hermits who play on stage and ferry around the choir from door to door?’ Megan rolled her eyes.
‘Saintly ones. I’m atoning for my sins in this village,’ Lucas said lightly, starting to roll another cigarette. His hands appeared to be shaking a little, and he rubbed them together. ‘Damn it’s cold out.’
‘What sins?’ Megan already knew.
‘Well…it’s hard to live here when you’ve done wrong by the great Megan McAllister.’
She could believe that, all too easily.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said helplessly, ‘but why didn’t you tell the truth?’
‘I didn’t know the truth.’ Lucas stared into the darkness, eyes briefly illuminated by the flame of the lighter.
‘You knew she wasn’t yours.’
Lucas took a deep breath and looked at her, that same silly smile. He looked good. He’d always been gorgeous, first in that poseur rock way, then simply because when he smiled he made her stomach flip. Now he looked like a man. Someone real, and warm and strong. And still just a little bit broken.
‘I wanted to protect you, Angel. I still do.’
Megan sighed, stamped her foot a little. ‘Haven’t got a spare cigarette, have you?’
‘You can share mine. I don’t really smoke any more anyway. It’s just…that kind of night. And here you are on my doorstep, wanting to drag it all out.’
‘I don’t want to drag it out, I want to apologise.’ She toked on the cigarette he offered her, trying not to cough as she breathed out. ‘I want to explain.’
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, stretching. ‘Meg, you think we could just ignore all that stuff tonight? Why don’t you just come in, have a cuppa, and tell me about your life?’
His house wasn’t what she’d expected. It was an adult abode. Sure there were music posters, but they were in posh frames, and everything had a very fitted look about it. He had sofa cushions, for Christ’s sake. She had to wonder if Estelle had it wrong, if there was a woman in his life to make this all look so…complete. Not that she cared, of course. It had been a long time. She’d expected him to move on, she wanted it. She just didn’t want to see it.
Megan picked at her nail varnish, hovering in the living room as he disappeared into the corner of the open-plan kitchen to put the kettle on.
‘This isn’t what I expected,’ she told him, unwinding her scarf.
‘Thinking more black walls and neon signs?’ he called back, grin in place.
‘Was thinking more bachelor pad. Technology and smooth lines, massive TV, all that bloke stuff.’
Lucas raised an eyebrow. ‘Was I ever your average bloke?’
She twitched her mouth in assent. ‘Nope.’
Lucas shrugged and got two mugs from the cupboard. ‘To be fair, a lot of this stuff’s Mum’s. She left it to me.’
‘Your mum’s…gone?’ Her chest contrac
ted a little. This was what happened when you didn’t talk. His mum was good woman, always about with tea and cake, let them get away with murder up in his room, never complained about the music, came to every gig she could. Her life was a mess, but she was a good person…
‘Calm down, Meg, she’s gone to Spain. Living with this bloke out there who sells time shares or something. I’m sure she’ll come running back when it all falls apart.’
Meg shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. As lovely as Linda Bright was, things never seemed to stick for her.
‘How’s Clare?’
‘Really well.’ He smiled at the thought of his sister, as he pushed a bright blue ceramic mug over towards her. ‘She’s on a year studying abroad with university, she’s in Tanzania now, I think. Geographical something…something. She wants to save the world, anyway.’
‘Did she find a community at the university?’ Megan knew all too well just how brilliant deaf kids could become at interacting, but surely university was a different thing altogether.
‘God, I forgot you didn’t know.’ Lucas’ eyes lit up, smiling at the kitchen counter as he tapped his fingers. ‘Clare got a cochlear implant. She can hear a fairly decent amount now. Put her off her balance quite a bit at the beginning, but…’
‘That’s amazing, Luke! That’s…it’s just so great! ’ Megan thought back to the shy little girl with the reddish brown hair who always used to look up at her with those massive eyes, lipreading and gesturing.
‘I’m sad I couldn’t see her,’ Megan said, ‘I’ve missed her. And Skye’s an ace with sign language, she would have loved to have a proper conversation.’
‘Your daughter knows how to sign,’ Lucas said, ‘but you don’t have any deaf people in your family. Is your partner deaf?’
‘Partner?’
‘Jeremy? Isn’t that what Skye said? The guy who told her what making assumptions made you?’ His face was inscrutable, but there was such an air of nonchalance in his voice that she might have believed he cared.
‘Jeremy is a lodger who lives with us,’ Megan explained, ‘he’s been a good friend, and bad influence for years.’
‘So you’re not married then.’
‘Why would I be married?’
Lucas shrugged, not looking at her. ‘Dunno. Just what people do, isn’t it?’
‘You married?’
He looked around him at his flat. ‘Does it look like I’m married?’
She followed his gaze, taking in the throw cushions, the kaftan arranged on the edge of the sofa, the candles burning on the mantlepiece. ‘Well, kinda.’
‘I was. For a bit,’ he offered, blue eyes waiting for her to make a judgement.
‘What happened?’
‘We were young, we met on the road. Musicians aren’t meant to marry. At least not while you’re touring. We broke up. I wrote a song called “One Month Divorced”. She wrote a song called “My Bastard Guitarist Love”. She got a top twenty hit, and I moved back here. End of.’
Megan suspected there was more to it than that, but she wasn’t in any position to start digging for information. She picked up her mug and moved over to the sofa, relaxing into it. She felt the give as he sat down next to her, close enough to feel his warmth, but not close enough to touch. Her heart started rattling a little in her chest, and she tapped her fingertips together in a steady rhythm.
‘Am I making you nervous, Meg?’ Lucas asked with a smile in his voice.
‘No, why?’
‘Because you’re doing that fingertip thing you always used to do.’
She looked down at her hands, and balled them into fists.
‘Remember you did that before we had sex for the first time? It made me laugh.’
‘Well, you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking, so I wasn’t the only one who was scared,’ Megan huffed.
‘Very true.’ Lucas leaned back, surveyed his room, trying to see it through her eyes. Did he look successful, interesting? Lonely? Or did he look like a sad old git with his papers to mark, his guitars sitting in the corner as if screaming out to the world that he never really played in that same way any more?
‘So….you’re a music teacher,’ Megan stated, pointing at the papers on the coffee table.
‘I know, right? I spend years trying to get out of that place and now I’m walking the halls again.’
‘Do you like it?’ Megan pulled her legs up underneath her, curling into the sofa. She liked to watch him, soaking in every detail of this new, grown up Lucas. Did he still pre-roll all his cigarettes and have them sitting in a little case? Did he still wake up at six am no matter what, before mumbling and falling asleep again? His eyes seemed bluer, and his face seemed hardened, that stubble that he never managed to fully remove still smudging around his jawline. He looked as dangerous as he had back then. He was the sinner, he said; she was the angel. And look how that turned out.
‘It’s fine. I can do it. It’s better than working in a factory,’ he shrugged.
‘But not as good as being a rock star.’
He grinned lazily, and she noticed that one dimple he always got on his left cheek, and felt a painful nostalgia. She felt like she was missing him, even though he was sitting there with her, looking at her, his arm reaching along the length of the sofa, his fingertips almost brushing her shoulder.
‘Did you not see me the other night? I’m still a rock star.’
‘Just three nights a week. Perfect compromise,’ Megan smiled, looking at his hand as his thumb gently reached her wrist, stroking the material of her jumper. She looked at him, questioning, but he just shrugged and smiled softly.
‘What about you? What did the great Megan McAllister go off and do to change the world? Besides creating a pretty special kid.’
‘I work with deaf kids,’ she smiled at him, ‘and I love it. I loved learning about it, I love working with these kids, creating programmes for them. Helping them through the implant process.’
‘That’s why Skye knows how to sign. You taught her?’ he asked, blinking.
‘Yeah. When I was pregnant I spent so much time trying to figure out what it was I wanted to do, and I didn’t have any time to waste. And then I remembered that time that Clare taught me how to say “horse”,’ Megan looped her fingers from her forehead down, as if making the shape of a horse’s head, ‘and how much she loved it, that I got it, that I got her…’ Megan shook her head, ‘and I guess I thought one day I would come back here and talk to her properly, and really know her. Like you did.’
Lucas breathed out, eyebrows raised. ‘Jesus, Meg. You come back after ten years without a word, and…all that?’
‘All what? She inspired me, that’s all.’
‘So you’d always planned to come back one day. Because you wanted to see my sister. Because you missed her. ’
‘It’s not like that, I’ve missed you too, but we’re…complicated. ’
‘Only because you made it that way, babe.’
She was looking at the floor when he said it, and it was as if she was seventeen again. As if he was just Lucas, asking why she was being difficult again. Why she hadn’t told her parents about the gig in Camden, and now his Mum was phoning him. Why she insisted on going down into the crowds during gigs when she knew the mic lead wouldn’t stretch that far. Why she had to go away to change the world, and she couldn’t do it from their shitty little village.
‘Do you think maybe I did this for you? To stop your life being ruined and your dreams being smashed?’ She put her cup down on the table, back straight, ready to fight.
‘Oh, how selfless of you to run off on Christmas morning after I’d asked you to spend your life with me. How kind of you to wait for me to tell you I loved you before you disappeared for ten years!’ Lucas made a face. ‘Grow up, would you? You weren’t protecting me.’
‘Well I thought you were going to leave this place and make something of yourself! If I’d have known you were going to throw it all away anyway, I might have stayed!’
she heard herself shout.
‘Megan…’ Lucas’s jaw was locked, and she knew he was holding back his anger. He’d never shouted at her, ever. But, she sort of wanted him to. ‘I’m here because I have a life here. I have family, friends. A steady career. I get to play music when I want. Do what I want. What part of that is failing to you? Should I have just run off and started a new life because I didn’t give a fuck about the people I left behind?’
‘I cared. I cared too much to see us both stuck here. You think I would have trained in what I trained in if I’d stayed here? You think I would have been able to raise my daughter how I wanted? You wouldn’t have been able to train as a teacher. We wouldn’t be here now.’
‘No, we wouldn’t,’ he conceded, the light coming back into his eyes a little. He twitched his mouth.
She took a deep breath, expelling the words she knew she needed to say. At least to start with.
‘It is good to see you, you know. As angry and sad as I’ve been, it’s good to see you.’
‘It’s good to see you too.’
They sat briefly in silence, staring at the wall.
‘You really think we could have raised a kid together?’ Megan asked suddenly.
‘No doubt whatsoever,’ Lucas said seriously, but she watched as the corners of his mouth turned up. ‘I mean, you’d have killed me, and it would have been stressful and your mother would have been around all the time, and we would have had the local oldies making snarky comments and we would have hated each other, but…seventeen-year-old me was a genius.’
‘Adult you isn’t bad either,’ Megan grinned to herself, shaking her head.
She looked across at him, his hair no longer flopping over those bright eyes, his smile warm, and he looked so stable. So safe, and loving and wonderful. And she knew it was time to go.
‘Well, I’ve avoided the family game of Monopoly too long. Skye’s probably bought up all their real estate and is making them work it off as indentured slaves.’ She stood up. ‘But it’s been good to see you, really good.’
He walked her to the door, hand resting briefly on her lower back.
Driving Home for Christmas Page 9
