‘Sorry, sorry!’ Skye gasped, laughing, ‘but, I mean, I’m guessing you had an argument with Grandma and Granddad, and that’s why Grandma’s all friendly and silly until you come in, and then she’s all awkward and weird. And then Granddad keeps getting all teary when he sees you walking around the house.’
Megan smiled at her daughter, brushing her hand across her cheek. ‘Very clever girl. You’re an excellent detective already.’
She thought about her parents, about how hard they were trying. But ten years of upset and hurt wasn’t about to be solved over one Christmas. Although they weren’t doing badly…
‘And then, of course, there’s Troublemaker,’ Skye said solidly, and Megan snapped back to attention.
‘What about Luke?’
‘Well, Mum, you’re a bit of a wreck.’ Skye shrugged awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable at constantly having to explain everything to everyone. Adults were kinda dumb. ‘You keep looking at him, and getting all sappy, and when he played that song today, the one after Elvis, you just stood there, all…frozen.’
Even my daughter thinks I’m acting like a love-sick teenager, Megan thought, kill me now.
‘Mum?’ Skye waited for Megan to give her her complete attention, hazel eyes meeting and locked. ‘Is Troublemaker…is he my dad?’
Skye had only used the ‘d-word’ once before, but even then had never asked about it, never wondered. Megan had worried about it, but Anna said she was clearly so happy she’d never wanted for a father. And that was the only answer Megan was willing to take.
She pressed her lips together, and brushed a strand of Skye’s dark hair back. ‘No, baby, he’s not. Is that okay?’
‘Yeah, just wondered,’ Skye shrugged, looking at the floor.
‘Do you wonder about your dad a lot?’ Megan asked gently, trying not to wince.
‘Not really.’ Skye swung her legs back and forth, staring at her bright purple trainers.
Megan wasn’t really sure how to deal with this. ‘Because I’d always thought we were enough, me and Anna, and Jeremy. And now you have grandparents, an uncle and auntie and cousin. Your family has just doubled! All these people who love you.’
You’re laying it on too thick, she thought desperately, shut up or she’ll never ask anything again.
‘I know…I just wonder sometimes if some of the things I do are because of him. My dad, I mean.’
‘Honey, your dad was a nice enough man, but…he was a kid, he didn’t know me very well. I didn’t know him very well.’
‘Well,’ Skye’s brow furrowed, ‘you knew him well enough to make a baby with him.’
Touché, kid.
‘Yes, and that was a mistake.’ She paused, smiling. ‘But I am so grateful for that mistake, because here you are, the best thing in my life. So I’m really thankful to your dad, you know? But, I don’t necessarily think he’d make our lives better.’
Megan tried to think of what she’d do if Skye insisted, if she wanted to know him, to know more. There wasn’t really more to know, anyway, was there? He was just Joey. Nice enough guy from school. Got around the girls well enough. He’d had his eye on her from the beginning, but she’d been with Lucas. And when Lucas was with Belinda…there Joey was. He was kind, and dopey and made her laugh. But…there was nothing there. And she felt so sick with the betrayal of it afterwards, like somehow she’d sullied everything she had with Lucas, for something that meant nothing.
She wondered about Joey sometimes, about whether she was denying him the chance to have an amazing daughter, if she was being unfair. Perhaps he’d spent the last ten years thinking about her, about this mystery kid he had off somewhere, if he’d even done the maths on her disappearance. Maybe he hadn’t even worked it out. She knew, if she’d been a grown-up, she would have got in touch with him, let him decide whether he wanted to be a part of their lives. But she just didn’t want him to. It was her and Skye against the world, and she didn’t want to share.
‘I get it Mum, I do…’ Skye trailed off. ‘Does he live here, though?’
‘He used to. I don’t know where he is now, love. I’m sorry.’
A male voice suddenly asked, ‘Where who is?’, and there was Lucas, smiling at them, guitar in a case slung across his back.
‘No one,’ Megan said, at the same time that Skye said ‘My dad.’
‘Well, that’s a question I’m quite interested in as well,’ Lucas said, looking at Megan.
‘You’re interested in everything to do with my mum, aren’t you, Troublemaker?’ Skye said pointedly.
‘Troublemaker?’ Lucas pointed at himself. ‘Me? All I do is try to keep out of trouble!’
‘You seemed to be causing it the other day,’ Skye said, eyebrows raised.
‘You’re in town ten minutes and your kid has me analysed. You sure you never talked about me?’ Lucas laughed at Megan, then turned to Skye. ‘I never mean to cause trouble, Skye, but I do tend to do that. That’s why I live by myself on the edge of the village, and try not to ruin anyone’s day.’
He paused, blue eyes seeking hers out, taken aback by how much like Megan’s they were. ‘I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble.’
‘Not yet,’ Skye said, but Megan could tell she was softening, because she was swaying side to side, her hands twisted behind her back.
‘I liked your playing,’ she said suddenly, ‘Mum did too.’
‘Did she?’ Lucas sent a look her way.
‘She liked the wild one. I prefer Elvis.’ Skye held her head high, waiting for derision.
‘A fan of the King, huh? How did you end up with a kid with good taste, Megs? Yours was always terrible.’
Megan rolled her eyes. ‘We disagreed about The Smashing Pumpkins. Give me a break, would you?’
‘You changed your mind?’
‘Nope.’
‘Then no breaks for you. How about you, Skye, can you see the light where your mother has failed?’
Skye shrugged. ‘Dunno. Never heard them.’
‘I’ll make you a mix CD,’ Lucas said determinedly. ‘Does Jeremy have good taste in music?’
‘Well…he really likes Gloria Gaynor,’ Skye said thoughtfully, ‘and Dolly Parton.’
‘And Britney Spears,’ Megan added, watching Lucas, waiting for him to get it.
‘He does a really great routine to Tina Turner, too,’ Skye added.
Lucas’ mouth made a small ‘o’ and he gave Megan a significant look. She nodded, small smile in place. ‘Riiight, well, variety is important.’
‘And Anna loves songs from musicals.’ Skye jumped up, pulling on Megan’s hand. ‘Can we go look at the grotto thing?’
‘Sure,’ Megan shrugged, getting up.
‘Would you like to come too, Trouble?’ Skye asked shyly, offering her hand. Megan rolled her eyes. The Lucas Bright effect.
Lucas grinned and took it. ‘I would be honoured, Inspector Skye.’
‘It’s just Skye,’ she said, and led the way, the two adults laughing over her head.
The grotto was an institution – it got grander every year. This year it seemed to be a maze of huge trees, each decorated with glittery snow, leading around to the Santa’s House in the middle, a huge gingerbread-style house. They wandered through slowly, the sound of Christmas music tinkling gently from the speakers, the smell of pine and snow making them cheery. Megan watched her daughter carefully. Skye was holding Lucas’ hand; why was she doing that? Was it just that she liked him? She was pretty sure he was a troublemaker up until a few moments ago. Was she playing one of her detective games, keeping him close until she figured it all out? Or was it simply that he’d won her over with his love of Elvis? Megan had to admit, it was hard to guess when your daughter was sort of an evil genius. Or just a genius. She usually used her powers for good. Like figuring out who ate the last biscuit.
‘So Trouble, what are you doing for Christmas?’ Skye asked, staring at the trees with interest.
‘Hun, his name is Lucas,’ Mega
n said with irritation.
‘It’s fine. I quite like it,’ Luke said, ‘it’s appropriate. This Christmas I will be watching lots of rubbish TV and excellent movies, eating pancakes for breakfast, and Chinese takeaway for lunch, and drinking champagne all day. It’s going to be wonderful!’
‘Who with?’ Skye asked.
Yeah, who with? Megan thought.
‘Just me. My mum’s off in Spain, and my sister’s off in some far-flung place, and…well, I’m taking a Christmas off this year.’
‘That’s sad,’ Skye said. ‘Do you not have presents then?’
‘I’ve got a couple, and I bought myself a few. I’m looking forward to it,’ he shrugged.
‘I guess we’re taking the Christmas off too. This isn’t what we usually do,’ Skye informed him.
‘I gathered. What’s your usual Christmas like?’
‘Well, me and Mum will wake up early and I’ll go into her room, and we’ll cuddle up in our beds and open our stockings. Then we’ll go downstairs and look at the tree, all lit up and lovely. Mum will put the champagne for Anna on ice, and I get elderflower fizz, and we put the bacon in the oven, until Anna and Jeremy are woken up by the smell. Then we do breakfast.’ Skye paused. ‘Wow, we do a lot, don’t we?’
‘Sounds busy,’ Lucas added, ‘and lovely.’
‘It really is,’ Megan smiled. ‘Anna’s my aunt. We went to live with her when Skye was a baby.’ She was missing stuff out, Lucas was sure. He’d only heard about Anna in passing. Anna was on the outs herself, as far as he knew. He remembered Megan talking about her mother having an argument with Anna years ago. If it was the same Anna. Their life was a bit of a mystery. Which was what happened when someone didn’t talk to you for ten years.
They stopped when they got to the middle of the grotto, where the gingerbread house sat, squat and proud. A couple of morose teenage elves in green lycra looked at Skye. ‘Did you want to see Santa?’
Skye shrugged, clearly torn.
‘Go, baby. Here.’ Megan handed her two pounds from her purse to give to the elf, who sighed, clearly hoping for a break.
‘I don’t really want to see Santa,’ Skye said defiantly, ‘I just want to see what the inside of the gingerbread house looks like.’ She strutted off, which Megan knew meant she was nervous. She couldn’t figure out why, but she guessed they’d been having some pretty big conversations, and Skye, whilst being unlike every other eleven-year-old usually, probably needed some time to process things too.
Lucas watched her go. ‘That kid of yours…’ He shook his head, turning to look at her. ‘How lucky are you? She’s wonderful.’
‘I tried my best. She makes it easy though,’ Megan shrugged, ‘for now. I’m sure she’s going to have to cause trouble as a teenager or something.’
‘Speaking of Trouble…’ he grinned, the dimple within his smile appearing again.
‘I am so sorry, I have no idea where she got that from.’
‘Because she’s not an idiot. I turn up, and suddenly things get complicated. She’s a smart cookie. And she’s protecting you.’
‘She asked me if you were her dad,’ Megan said quickly, and then wished she hadn’t, watching Lucas’ face fall.
‘Maybe in another life, eh?’ he shrugged, trying to keep the smile in place.
***
November 2004
‘I’m really glad you decided to come out,’ Joey said, hand stroking her arm through her cardigan. She was sitting on his lap at a house party where she knew no one. All she could think about was Belinda, all dressed up after college, declaring today the day she had her date with Lucas. And she knew she shouldn’t have cared. She knew she let Lucas go, but…Belinda? Of all people? He couldn’t have chosen someone…nice? There were loads of nice girls in their year who would have killed to be with him. Why did he have to pick her? Boys were so obvious.
And so when Joey had asked her to come to some party, she’d put on her smile and her make-up, and gone with. She’d had a few beers, nothing crazy, but she’d loosened up. It was nice to sit with his arms around her, lean back against his strong chest, feel his breath against her neck. It was nice to be held. She missed Lucas so badly she could feel the tears welling up, so she did the only thing she could to stop them- she turned around and kissed Joey, soft but determined. After that it was dark bedrooms and awkward talks about protection, tangled underwear and not much else. Megan had felt distinctly separate whilst it was happening, like she didn’t have to be there at all, and she’d rather not. Afterwards she called a cab, and waited outside in the cold for it. Joey kissed her cheek and thanked her for an amazing night. She made it into the cab before she started to cry.
Chapter Seven
The holiday was becoming decidedly long. Megan tried to think of what they did at home, why it seemed to be taking ages for Christmas to arrive, for them to get it over and get back to their lives. At home they’d be fussing about with all of Anna’s plans for dinner. Occasionally that meant Megan figuring out how to cook the turkey, as she had one disastrous year when Skye was five, and almost burning the house down. Since then she’d stopped complaining when Anna spent a fortune on caterers for her holiday bash. Most of the time it was all about decorations. ‘More! More, darling, we’re going for spellbinding here!’ she’d say, champagne glass in hand whilst Megan and Skye were halfway up a ladder trying to hang more diamante icicles from the ceiling.
One year she bought this huge frosted chandelier to hang in the foyer, the first thing you noticed when you walked it. It even outshone the tree. She had rented it for the season, but when January came she declared she couldn’t bear to let the sparkle leave, and paid a shameful amount to keep it up there. As far as Megan knew, Anna had never been particularly rich herself, though her acting career had been successful. But her husband, Richard, who Megan had no recollection of, beyond a couple of pictures when she was a baby, had made money and invested wisely. Anna was a strange one. Spending vast amounts on extravagant champagne, but having a lodger like Jeremy. Buying a chandelier, but using coupons when she found them in the paper. ‘Nothing lasts forever, darlings,’ she said, waving the coupons about, ‘might as well save on the stuff that doesn’t matter, and spend on the stuff that does.’
Megan was curled up in the living room with a book, Skye leaning into her side, also reading. She stroked Skye’s hair gently, letting the smell of cinnamon, and the sound of Minnie’s snores as she lay by the fire, engulf her. It was comfortable. They weren’t bored, exactly, but it wasn’t home, and it wasn’t interesting enough to be a holiday.
The doorbell rang and Skye jumped up immediately, eager to do something.
‘I’ll get it!’ she yelled, running to the front door. Megan followed slowly, sure it must be Matty, or more carol singers.
They pulled open the door, and there was Lucas, carrying a large, messily wrapped present.
‘Hi!’ he waved, ‘I just wanted to drop this off for Skye.’
‘For me?’ Her eyes widened at the mystery gift.
‘Yeah, it’s yours. I’ve been looking after it for a while,’ he shrugged, looking at Megan, and suddenly she knew what it was. Her eyes watered and she smiled at him, grateful.
‘Come in for a coffee?’ she asked him, holding the door open wide. Skye looked between the two of them, wondering why her mother was so tearful around this guy all the time. He hadn’t done anything bad, as far as she could tell. And he’d bought her a present.
Lucas nodded and walked in, laying the box on the sofa, and gesturing to Skye. She narrowed her eyes. ‘If I accept this do I have to stop calling you Trouble?’
‘Darling, you can call me anything you like. Trouble is pretty appropriate,’ Lucas shrugged. ‘Open it.’
‘Now? I thought it was a Christmas present?’ Skye looked to her mother uncertainly.
Megan nodded. ‘It’ll be good to have something to keep you occupied until Christmas, won’t it? Go ahead.’
Skye didn’t need to
be told twice, launching herself at the wrapping paper.
‘This is really good of you,’ Megan said quietly to Lucas as they watched Skye tear the wrapping apart.
‘It was never mine to keep. Your parents let me keep it, or they forgot about it, I don’t know. It made me feel closer to you.’ He kept his eyes straight ahead, focused on Skye. ‘But here you are. Don’t need it any more.’
Megan wasn’t quite sure how to take that, whether it was a sign of connection, or a sign of closure. But it was a lovely thing to do.
Skye opened the rectangular cardboard box, and as she lifted the last flap, there sat Megan’s cherry red electric guitar. It shone at them in the soft lighting. It still had the leopard-print guitar strap attached, threadbare with wear, badges pinned to it. One said ‘fuck the police’ and Megan blinked, going over to remove it before Skye saw it.
‘A guitar?’ she lilted, surprised and delighted.
‘It was your mum’s,’ Lucas told her. ‘It’s only right that you should have it. I could teach you some Elvis tunes sometime, if you want?’
Skye turned to look at him with such a look of adoration that Megan wasn’t sure what to do. Skye was always composed. Sure, she’d do a little happy dance here and there, she expressed her feelings. But somehow, British politeness always won out. This time that was not the case, and she launched herself at Lucas.
‘Thank you, Trouble! Thank you, thank you! It’s perfect!’ She stayed with her arms clamped around his waist, Lucas blushing and awkward, until he offered to teach her something right then.
Megan left them to it, returning with coffees and watching from across the room as Lucas Bright taught her daughter to play guitar. He’d glance up every now and then and grin at her, and she felt her heart melt a little every time. Maybe this could have been her life if she’d stayed. Maybe she would have stayed with him, and he’d have taught Skye to play guitar, and she would have been happy. They might have had another kid, got married. Made everything simple again.
She shook the thought away like the fantasy it was, but every time she looked over, Skye so happy, and he so earnest as he leaned in to talk to her daughter, her chest hurt a little more.
Driving Home for Christmas Page 11
