Lucas guffawed, turning it into a cough. ‘Excuse me.’
‘And that woman…’ Skye made a face. ‘Vile.’
Megan couldn’t help but laugh,. Skye looked exactly like Anna, passing judgement on a younger actress who wasn’t up to par.
‘She always has been, and she always will be,’ Lucas said gravely.
‘Yeah, well we should have a conversation about your bad taste as well, later on,’ Megan told him pointedly.
Lucas looked confused, but shrugged. ‘So Skye, any thoughts on your dad?’
Skye shrugged. ‘I’ve never really needed one. And he didn’t seem very interesting. And I definitely don’t want to be around that creepy lady ever again. Let’s try and stay away from them next time we visit.’
She looked up at Megan, all bundled up with her massive knitted purple scarf, her nose red from the cold, and said, ‘Is that okay, Mum?’
Megan stopped walking, and threw her arms around her daughter, warm and solid and hers. ‘That is most definitely okay, baby.’
‘Smart kid!’ Lucas exclaimed, shaking his head.
‘I don’t mind if you stick around though,’ Skye told him, ‘you’re not boring.’
‘Trouble never is,’ he laughed, taking her hand again.
By the time they’d retrieved the food and walked back to Whittleby Cottage, Skye was enjoying herself immensely. Megan had ordered way too much food in a frenzy, both on an adrenaline rush from seeing Belinda, and because the idea of feeding Skye lots of food somehow equated to making her happy. She ordered banana fritters and ice cream for dessert.
Skye was having a whale of a time, enjoying walking in and using the ‘met my father in a chip shop’ line again, although this time it was met with guarded curiosity instead of guffaws.
After everyone had eaten more than they thought they could have, they sat sleepy and satiated on the sofa. Jonathan dozed in the armchair, sighing along to the strains of Bob Dylan in the background. Heather heaved herself up and declared she was going to bed because she had an early start tomorrow. Christmas Eve. That left Lucas, Megan and Skye slumped on the sofa. They turned on the television, settling on Miracle on 34th Street. Lucas sat in the middle and slowly became aware of being encroached upon from both sides. Megan nuzzled against his right side, so he lifted up his arm so she could rest her head against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, comfortable and content. Then Skye shuffled further down, her back against his side until he was again forced to lift his arm, and find he’d become a glorified cushion for two tired girls. Something about it made him feel complete.
When the movie ended, he looked down and saw Megan was asleep on him. Her dark hair had fallen across her face, and she was frowning into his jumper. He looked to his left and Skye was looking up at him, and across to her mother.
‘Mum’s asleep?’ she whispered.
Lucas nodded slowly.
‘This has been nice,’ Skye told him, looking across at her mother tenderly. ‘I don’t think you’re Trouble any more.’
Lucas grinned. ‘Why thank you, Miss Skye.’
She paused a moment, then looked up at him, her eyes so much like her mother’s. ‘I wish you were my dad.’
His breath hitched in his throat, and he squeezed her shoulder. ‘That makes two of us, kid.’
Chapter Nine
‘You did what? ’ Jeremy’s excited voice floated down the telephone. ‘With whom? ’
‘Stop sounding so scandalised, you heard what I said.’ Megan rolled her eyes, nibbling on a gingerbread biscuit, one of her mother’s stained-glass ones which Skye had presented to her proudly, before disappearing.
‘And how was it?’
Megan surrounded herself in the memory of Lucas, hard against her, nibbling her neck, making her lose her breath.
‘Addictive. Dangerous,’ she sighed, ‘wonderful.’
‘Well, that’s my Christmas wish come true!’ Jeremy said. ‘At least one of us should get laid this holiday. As it is I’m hiding in my cupboard because none of them can see clearly in the dark of the office.’
‘You’re playing hide and seek with a bunch of pensioners?’ Megan laughed. ‘Way to be infused with the Christmas spirit.’
‘Unless the Christmas spirit is tequila, I want none of it,’ he said seriously. ‘How’s Skye with everything?’
‘A trouper who’s too good for me, as usual. We bumped into her…father.’ She sounded out the word. That wasn’t what Joey was. Joey was a man who had happened to knock her up ten years ago. And he was a father now, to kids he had with the She-Devil. He wasn’t Skye’s father. She didn’t need a father, she’d said so.
‘And how’d she take it?’
‘Wasn’t massively impressed by him, and turned it into a joke. Said she’d rather not see him again, and then ate her weight in ice cream. You think that’s normal?’
‘Nothing about that kid is normal, and that’s why I love her. When are you back?’ Jeremy whined. ‘I need support.’
‘A couple of days after Christmas. You need back-up against the biddie brigade?’
Jeremy paused, and a knot appeared in Megan’s stomach. ‘Anna’s not very well, and she’s a bit low on energy. That’s all.’ He was sing-songing, and Jeremy didn’t do sing-song.
‘Jez…’
‘She collapsed a few days ago, so we took her to A and E. She said she’s just a little run down from the excitement of the holiday, but…’ He took a deep breath. ‘She didn’t seem surprised at whatever test results they gave her. And she won’t talk to me about it.’
‘Shit,’ Megan said.
‘Yeah, but the truth is, if Anna was in serious trouble, you think she’d handle it like a martyr? Nope. She’d be singing songs on her death bed and calling for speeches and champagne. I’m sure she’s fine. Really.’
‘Do you think I should come home?’ Megan asked him, biting her thumb. Part of her would be relieved to get out of there, but still…they hadn’t really aired everything out. And there was Lucas. And Skye was still dealing with everything.
‘Don’t you dare! You stay there and you make up for your last ten virginal years. Anna said she’ll call tomorrow.’
‘Right.’ Megan hovered. ‘Well, make sure she does.’
They said their goodbyes, and as Megan put the phone down, she tried to talk herself out of worrying. But Anna had been their rock for the last ten years. She’d protected them, taken them in, made them a family. For all her dry humour and minor alcoholism, Anna loved them being around. And if she was sick, and they were away for the first Christmas ever…well, something about it seemed wrong, and selfish.
She asked her mother later on, who was a one-woman Christmas machine, constantly stuffing, cooking, basting, glazing or baking something. Or making lists. Heather McAllister was a list-maker. She glanced up at Megan, with one pair of glasses sitting on her nose, the other pair on her head, pen desperately scribbling away.
‘What’s up?’
‘Anna’s not very well. Jeremy said she fainted, and they’ve been doing tests. Has she said anything to you?
Heather sighed, and put the glasses she was looking through onto the table, putting the list away. ‘She never tells me anything. In truth, all we talk about is Skye. The one good thing about everything that happened was that it opened a channel between me and Anna. We had something to talk about again.’
‘Why did you guys never talk when we were kids?’ Megan asked, pulling up a chair.
Heather tensed. ‘Families have secrets, darling, and when they’re revealed, people get hurt.’
‘Anna has secrets? Well, she had a pretty crazy career as an actress, things were always going to happen.’
‘This was before that, it was because of it that she went off to become an actress. Running off to London, making a life in the big city full of strangers, instead of staying home where people could talk.’
Heather looked tired, and worn, and Megan put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Sha
ll I make us some tea?’
Her mother nodded, and when Megan brought two strong teas back to the table, in bright red Santa mugs, Heather exhaled strongly. She’d made a decision to talk about everything, clearly. She reached across the table and put thirty minutes on the egg timer.
‘I can’t burn another turkey,’ she laughed, ‘but we need to talk about some things.’
Megan nodded. ‘I’m listening.’
Heather tucked her dark hair behind her ears, tapped her fingers on the table. ‘I’d always adored my big sister. She was the pretty one with those big eyes, and perfect dark hair. She was so glamorous. When I was a kid she played with me, held me close and cuddled me. And then she was gone, off to London at nineteen, and she forgot about me. Sure, she came back for Christmas, Easter, brought beautiful presents, and told me all her stories, but it was like she was distancing herself from us, like she was ashamed.
‘There was a big age gap between us. Sixteen years. Your grandparents were good people, but they’d never expected to have another young one around, they were preparing to have a relaxing life. I was expected to entertain myself, and I did. I was happy enough.’
Megan frowned, not really knowing what this had to do with Anna. She was annoyed because her older sister had gone off to live her life?
‘Anna came back for my wedding to your dad. I was in my mid-twenties. I’d wanted her to be my Matron of Honour. She’d married her first husband, Ralph. Awful man, all about money, all airs and graces. I hated him.’
Megan shrugged. ‘I don’t remember him.’
‘Oh, he was long gone before you were born. Only lasted a few years. If I’m not mistaken he revealed himself to be gay only recently. Anna loved that. A good story.’
Heather rolled her eyes, and Megan suddenly noticed how much she looked like her mother, and how much Skye looked like both of them.
‘Anyway, on the morning of my wedding, Anna comes in, all emotional and over the top. I think she’d had a few drinks. And she tells me she has a secret to share with me, something about our family. And it’s only right, going forward to my own family, that I know the truth.’
Heather pressed her lips together, shaking her head. ‘Of all the times, a few hours before I’m due to get married, she wants to drop a bombshell. Drama and tears, Anna all over. She’s a drama shark, attracted to it like blood. She seeks it out…’
Heather stopped herself, realising she was ranting, and moaning, which wasn’t what she’d planned. She took a deep breath and looked at Megan.
‘Anna told me she was my mother.’
Megan felt her jaw drop. ‘What?’
‘She’d got pregnant at sixteen, and Mum – I mean, well, her mother had convinced her to let them raise me as a sibling. That way she could still go on with her life, avoid the scandal, the responsibility. It all made sense really, how much she’d loved me when we were younger, how she pushed me away as she grew up.’
Heather stared off into the distance. ‘I banned her from my wedding, can you believe that?’ She shook her head. ‘I regret it now, but I was so angry. It was meant to be the happiest day of my life, and it was suddenly all about how my family had lied to me, and betrayed me.
‘And I think I was most annoyed about her wanting to tell me. It didn’t make a difference. I wasn’t suddenly going to call her my mother. In my head she just wanted the drama, wanted a good story at my expense.’
‘She told you because she wanted to tell you, not because it was what you needed to hear,’ Megan said quietly, and Heather’s eyes snapped to hers, nodding.
‘Exactly,’ she sighed, ‘and then when you came home that day…’
Megan stilled. They were going to do this now? Her aunt was actually her grandmother, and her mother had been holding it all in for years, and now she wanted to deal with their relationship too.
‘Mum, you don’t have to. We’re fine now.’
Heather took her hand, tears in her eyes. ‘No love, I was so wrong. I just, I saw it happening all over again. The lies and the messiness, people talking and… I’d spent so much time since that day trying to create this perfect family, trying to cover up. And all the years before that I spent trying to make you into this perfect automaton. I never even asked you what you wanted. I was more worried about what people thought than I was about my own daughter. And I’m so sorry.’
The last words were squeaked out through tears as Heather bowed her head.
‘It’s okay, Mum. It all worked out okay. And here we are.’
‘I thought you’d come back. We kept trying to find you. I thought, “eventually she’ll realise, she’ll know we’ll be here” but you never did. And then I got the call from Anna…’ Heather hiccuped, working herself up, ‘and I thought, “there she is again, breaking up my family, thriving on drama”…how awful is that?’
‘It’s not, Mum, it makes sense,’ Megan shushed her, unsure of how to deal with such an emotional outpouring from a woman who had always been loving, but firm, distant. In control.
‘I’m so proud of you, you know. The way you’ve raised Skye, with so little support…you’ve just…you did it all by yourself…’
‘I didn’t, really,’ Megan shrugged, ‘I had Anna, I had Jeremy. A bunch of crazy old ex-actresses who kept trying to get me to do Kegel exercises all the time…’
‘They’re not wrong, you know,’ her mother laughed, wiping away her tears.
‘I wanted to show you I could do this, that I knew what I was doing…but I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue. But I wanted you to meet my daughter one day and love her as much as I do.’ Megan sniffed a little, trying not to give in to the overwhelming desire to throw her arms around her mother.
‘I do, we all do. It’s pretty impossible not to, isn’t it?’ Heather smiled, patting her daughter’s hand. ‘You did good, kid.’
‘I know,’ Megan nodded, ‘but we’ll do even better now.’
They sat quietly, sipping their tea for a while, letting the emotions sap away into the Earl Grey and silence.
‘So Lucas has been around a lot lately…’ Heather said slyly, raising an eyebrow at her daughter.
‘Some things don’t change,’ Megan laughed.
***
Megan had escaped to Lucas’ for a while after talking to her mum. It was like a great outpouring of everything that she’d felt and known and wondered about for most of her lifetime, and she was exhausted. But more than that, it was like the floodgates had opened. If she was going to be open with her mother, maybe she needed to do that with everyone. The problem was, Lucas was a calming presence, he always had been. She’d always loved to just sit there in the corner of his room whilst he fiddled on his guitar, or wrote down lyrics, half-humming to himself. She was safe in the quiet with him. Which was why she was currently curled up with him on his sofa, quietly enjoying the feel of him holding her and not expecting anything else.
‘You’re different now, you know,’ Lucas said suddenly, head tilted like he was trying to figure out exactly what it was that had changed.
Megan shrugged. ‘The whole “being a mother” thing might be a clue. She has to come first, always. I was pretty good at being selfish before.’ Still am, she thought to herself, somehow still guilty that she could be curled up with Lucas, pretending nothing was different, when her daughter was at home. Skye was fine, she was happy to spend time with her grandparents. But there was some little part of Megan telling her that she was selfish for having fun, that she shouldn’t be here at all. She tried to stamp it down, smiling at Lucas.
‘No, it’s not that, you were always terrible at putting yourself first anyway. You’re just less…angry now. You’re okay with who you are, and who they are,’ Lucas didn’t have to say he meant her parents, ‘you haven’t got that chip on your shoulder any more.’
‘Nothing to prove,’ Megan shrugged. ‘I disappointed them in the biggest way possible, threw away every dream they’d been trying to grow in me since I was a kid. After that,
I was free.’
Lucas smiled sadly, pulling her in closer to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘And that’s why you never would have stayed with me.’
Megan looked up and nodded. ‘It’s why I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. In many ways, Skye gave me a reason to get out, to take the path I wanted. If I’d stayed with you, they would have controlled me in the same way they always did.’
‘I knew you loved me,’ Lucas said, ‘I knew it couldn’t have been that. I thought maybe you didn’t trust me. That you couldn’t trust me to look after you.’
She shook her head against his chest. ‘You did have a lot of contempt for those girls in the village who got knocked up, you said they’d never do anything with their lives.’
‘A lot of people never do anything with their lives. They lose it in a plodding circle of TV, food, work and sleep.’
‘Sounds nice,’ Megan yawned against him.
‘I could have come with you, you know. We could have started somewhere new together.’
Megan thought back to that night, when he asked her to stay, and she’d never felt so truly loved by someone in her entire life. She felt safe, like she wasn’t a disappointment or a disgrace.
‘I lay there for hours thinking through every alternative, you know. I thought about that. And then I thought about Clare, and what would happen if you weren’t there. That your mum never signed with her, and she’d be alone and isolated, and you’d never get the chance to play in a band, or make it big. I wanted that for you. And I couldn’t do that to Clare.’
Lucas huffed. ‘Wow, you really thought of everything.’
Megan nodded.
‘You could have put some of that in the note so that I didn’t have to spend the last ten years thinking you left me behind because I was a failure.’
‘Why on earth would you think you were a failure?’
‘Because you couldn’t trust me to take care of you.’
Megan sighed. ‘You took care of me for most of our lives. I knew you could take care of me, take care of us. But I didn’t know whether I could do it, and I needed to know. I could speak advanced French, and paint beautifully and write sonnets, but I didn’t know how to use a washing machine. I needed to know I could do something for myself, that I could be a mum and be decent and good. Not an angel, or a fallen angel, just a person.’
Driving Home for Christmas Page 15
