Читать книгу Love At Christmas, Actually - Jenny Oliver, A. L. Michael - Страница 16

Chapter Eight

August 2003

‘My parents will not give me a break!’ Megan ranted, stalking into Lucas’ room, smelling of booze and cigarettes.

‘Do they know you’re here?’ he said seriously, looking at the clock. It was eleven pm.

‘No, I just…I had to get out.’

Lucas rolled his eyes and went out to the landing, ‘Linda? Can you call Megan’s parents and tell them she’s here? And I’ll drive her back tomorrow?’

He walked back into the room and gave her a look that said “look what a position you’ve put me in”.

‘Why do you always do that? You’re meant to be on my side!’

‘I am. I also like seeing you. And if you keep acting like a kid, they’re not going to let you spend time with me,’ he said sensibly. ‘This way, it looks like I’m very responsible, and Linda knows what’s going on.’

‘She doesn’t!’

‘No, but it’s better that your parents think she does, isn’t it?’

‘Urgh!’ Megan threw herself on the bed. ‘Why are you the sensible one?’

Lucas lay down on the bed next to her, staring at the ceiling. ‘Because I don’t have parents on my case to make the most of my potential. Bless Linda, but she doesn’t think I have any potential. All I’ve got to do is get a job and stay out of prison.’

‘I think you’ve got potential,’ she said, lifting her head up.

‘I know,’ he laughed, ‘but the point is, Angel, your parents are the real deal. They have a good life, and that’s what they want for you.’

She raised an eyebrow, leaning her head on her hand as she lay there looking at him, her bright cherry-dyed hair hanging over her shoulder, and her black eyeliner smudged.

‘Heather and Jonathan have everything. They don’t hate their jobs, they’re married, they have a house, a family they love spending time with. They have hobbies and they’re still in love, all these years later. Nothing can ruin that oasis, can it?’

‘Except if their only daughter doesn’t get into Cambridge or whatever.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Matty never gets any of this.’

‘Matty isn’t as smart as you are,’ Lucas said sensibly. ‘One day you’ll see, when you’re missing one of the pieces of the puzzle, that they had it all.’

‘You were the one who told me to rebel, remember? You said all those years ago that it wasn’t really living!’ she argued.

‘That’s because I was trying to get into your knickers,’ he shrugged.

‘You were not!’

Lucas just raised an eyebrow and grinned at her as he started rolling a cigarette.

‘It wasn’t a life,’ Megan said simply, staring at the ceiling. ‘All I did was try to be what they wanted me to be. I’m still doing it now. Still studying and killing myself to go to a university I’m not even bothered about, just because it’s their dream. My rebellion is just playing in a band and seeing you.’

‘And apparently getting drunk by yourself on a Tuesday night.’

‘It’s the summer!’

‘I know, baby, but…’

Megan’s eyes widened. ‘What weird alternate reality is this? You’re Lucas Bright, remember? Rebel, bad boy, bringer of rock n roll?’

‘I’m the guy who wants my girlfriend to spend time with me. Which can’t happen if her parents lock her up for acting like a kid.’

‘I hate when you’re all sensible,’ Megan pouted.

‘Me too. I prefer it when you’re the stick in the mud and I’m the super fun one,’ he grinned, ‘so let’s return to our regularly scheduled programming, shall we?’

***

A little while later, Megan jumped up in shock, finding herself asleep in Lucas’ bed.

‘Shit!’ She started looked for her clothes. ‘My parents are going to kill me for being out this late!’

Lucas burst out laughing, watching her trying to untangle her underwear.

‘What?’ she asked, pulling them on and doing up her bra.

‘Just…nostalgia. Some things don’t change however old you are.’

‘Hey, their house, their rules,’ she grinned, moving back to kiss him. ‘This was really…something.’

He held her chin and kissed her again. ‘It really was. Up for a few more walks down memory lane before you go back to London?’

‘We never did that on memory lane!’ Megan pulled her dress over her head, turning around for Lucas to zip her up. ‘But yes, I would love to spend some more time with you.’

‘Good. I’d love to hang out with Skye too, sometime. If that’s okay…’

He watched as Megan pursed her lips, thoughtful, pulling up her leggings.

‘Don’t have to though, we can keep this just about us. I know trusting other people with your daughter is a big deal.’

‘I trust you,’ she shrugged, tailing off.

‘Either way, it sounds good to me,’ Lucas said softly, kissing her palm. ‘You going now?’

‘Well, as soon as you’re ready to drive me,’ she said primly, ‘I can’t be seen leaving Lucas Bright’s house at…two am! The scandal!’

He stood up wearily, reaching for his underwear. ‘Anything to keep your reputation intact, kid.’

***

September 2002

They were sitting in her room. She was lying on the bed, feet up against the wall, and he was across the room in her armchair, rolling a cigarette.

‘You can’t smoke that in here,’ she said for the hundredth time.

‘I know.’

‘So why bother?’

‘Something to do?’ Luke shrugged, examining his black painted fingernails.

They sat around, unsure of what to do any more. School was about to start again, and something had shifted over the summer. Megan had started dating Greg, the boy from the baker’s, and Luke was sort-of-almost-nearly seeing this girl who worked at Blockbusters. They’d pretty much spent their summer buying cakes and watching movies, each nudging the other forward in the quest to find someone to stick their tongue down your throat. Fliss was about eighteen, had tattoos and piercings, and looked permanently unimpressed with the world. But she did lend them certificate 18 movies with no questions asked, so Lucas thought it must be love. Greg was in their year at school, one of those rugby boys with the winning smile. They’d known him before his growth spurt, back when he’d been this normal shy sort of boy. Then suddenly he was six foot, the braces came off and he had abs. He was the dream scenario for all those Year nine boys just desperately hoping that they were the lucky duckling who was destined to be a swan. Even if it meant getting bashed in the head by a bunch of posh gits every Sunday.

‘We need to do something!’ Megan growled, bored out of her mind. Tomorrow there would be school and GCSEs, coursework and nothing else but ‘focus, Megan, focus’.

‘We do stuff!’

‘We listen to music and watch dumb movies, and talk about the same shit over and over! I want to do something that will change something.’

‘Write a book,’ he shrugged.

‘More work, no thanks.’

‘Paint? Collage? Macramé?’ Lucas listed the things his mother had picked up and dropped each month for the last year. ‘Pottery? Candle-making? Stamp collecting?’

Megan sat up. ‘Hey! How about you teach me to play guitar?’

Lucas looked up from underneath his dark eyelashes. ‘You can’t be serious.’

She shrugged.

‘Meg, I love ya, honestly mate, but…you think I could teach you something without us wanting to kill each other?’

She fluttered her eyelashes and trembled her bottom lip, thinking of her dad’s acoustic guitar downstairs. ‘It could be fun…’

‘It could be hell.’

‘All right, you play, I’ll sing,’ she compromised, ‘pick something.’

‘Megan, I’ve known you for almost ten years – when have you ever sung anything? Except belting out “Summer of ’69” when it comes on the radio? Which sounds terrible.’

Megan widened her eyes and just grinned. ‘Try me.’

***

The next couple of days passed quickly enough, with Heather doing at least three more ‘last minute’ shops for things that were apparently absolutely necessary. The girls for the most part read their books, went wandering around the village, baked gingerbread cookies, listened to music with Jonathan, or played guitar.

‘Is this right?’ Skye looked at her fingers, stretching across the frets. Megan adjusted them a little, then nodded.

‘Is it uncomfortable?’

Skye nodded.

‘Then it’s right.’

‘Wasn’t this painful when Trouble was teaching me,’ Skye said slyly, strumming a little with a leopard-print plectrum Megan had found in her jewellery box upstairs. ‘Is he going to show me any more?’

‘You want him to?’ Megan asked casually.

‘Sure, he was good.’

So Megan asked, and around Lucas came to sit in their living room with his acoustic guitar, and a pocket amp for Skye. Jonathan nodded, and shook his hand. ‘Good to have you back around, son. Sorry for all that messy business.’

That messy business being my daughter? Megan thought irritably, but Lucas had kissed her when she met him at the door, so she was in a good enough mood to let it go.

Heather walked in, dropped off gingerbread cookies in the shape of hearts, nodded at Megan with approval, and went back to polishing the silver, and ticking off her ‘To Do’ lists.

After half an hour with different chord progressions, Skye could play ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘Roll Over Beethoven’.

‘She’s a natural, isn’t she Meg?’ Lucas grinned at Skye as she strummed uncertainly, going a little bit red at the compliment. Must be the Bright effect, Megan thought, it targeted McAllister girls. Her daughter was usually busy working out what someone had done wrong, trying to unspool their secrets, not blushing when they gave out compliments. It made her feel a little better about her own weakness.

‘Meg, wanna play with me?’ He grinned, that boyish, charming grin and she wanted to kiss him and smack him.

‘I haven’t played in years.’

‘So sing.’

‘I haven’t sung in years either,’ she shrugged.

‘That’s not true,’ Skye frowned, ‘I’ve heard you in the shower, you’re really good. Why don’t you sing that one that was on the tape in the car, the one you wrote?’

Lucas brightened at this. ‘You’ve got one of my tapes?’

‘We were listening on the way down. Didn’t even realise it was there,’ Megan shrugged.

‘So, you remember the words?’

Of course she remembered the words, they were sewn into her like every other memory. But did she want to start all that again? Singing had felt like home. Or rather, singing with Lucas had felt like home.

Megan sighed. ‘Baby, pass it here.’ She gestured to the guitar, then slipped the strap over her head and ran through a few scales to warm up her fingers. ‘I’m a bit rusty,’ she warned them.

Lucas nodded at her as he started playing, taking the lead with his fancy finger work as she strummed in rhythm. She started singing, like birds taking flight, and though her voice seemed croaky and worn to her own ears, Skye smiled. She kept eye contact with Lucas, waiting for him to come in with the harmonies. She’d always loved how their voices merged together and made something better than either of them.

We keep making the same mistakes

Over and over and over again.

Travelled down one more lonely path

Where I couldn’t find a friend.

But something about you catches my eye

Makes my heartbeat wild.

And I’ll keep making that same mistake

Over and over again.

Her eyes were glued to his as they sang, and her chest threatened to split with the intensity of it. On one hand, it was all too much, singing with him, kissing him, laughing with him, but on the other it felt like home. And like the song said, maybe she was ready to make those mistakes again. Just for a little while.

‘I had no idea you were cool, Mum.’ Skye stuck out her tongue.

‘Thanks very much! Guess who’s not getting presents for Christmas?’ Megan grinned.

‘You’re joking, right?’ Skye said seriously. ‘Because I meant it as a compliment.’

‘I knew exactly what you meant it as, cheeky monkey.’ Megan rolled her eyes and passed the guitar back. They looked up to find Lucas staring at them, grin playing around his mouth.

‘What?’ they asked in unison.

‘You guys aren’t like other people, are you?’

‘Not a chance,’ Megan shrugged, looking at Skye.

‘Anna says we have no choice, living with eccentric artists as we do,’ Skye informed him, ‘although she says Mum’s innate need to be a good person gets in the way of a lot of creative energy.’

‘Anna says a lot of things.’ Megan rolled her eyes.

‘Are you going to stay for dinner with us, Trouble? We’re getting fish and chips!’ Skye said, trying to tempt him.

‘I-uh…don’t know?’ He looked to Megan, nodding his head at the kitchen door where her parents were currently stuffing the turkey. They’re fine, she mouthed at him. With you, at least.

‘You should stay,’ she added for Skye’s benefit, ‘if you want to?’

‘Yes, stay,’ Skye nodded, as she plucked the guitar, ‘we can play some more!’

After agreeing with her parents, the three of them bundled up to walk down to the fish and chip shop on the high street. Lucas was wearing his Where’s Wally scarf again, although it didn’t irritate Megan as much as it had before. He was walking along chatting to Skye who was insistently holding his hand. She’d really taken a liking to him, almost too quickly. She couldn’t work out if it was just that Lucas was Lucas, or if Skye was making a point that she did want a male in her life, that the dad thing did matter, and Lucas was just the closest available male. That said, Skye had followed Jeremy around all over the house when she was a toddler, constantly seeking him out.

They trundled down the hill, the smell of salt and vinegar tingling on her tongue before they’d even opened the door. The shop was busy, and they squashed in, suddenly too warm in their layers.

‘Oh my GOD. Megan McAllister!’

Megan would know that voice anywhere, simply from the way it set her teeth on edge. She screwed up her eyes but it didn’t go away. ‘Megan! Megan!’

She opened her eyes, and there was Belinda. She didn’t particularly look any different, except the make-up was applied with an even heavier hand. She noticed the cracks in her foundation as she widened her eyes. She pushed people out of the way to squeeze through.

‘Megan! I can’t believe you’re back!’ She turned to look at Lucas standing beside her. ‘And some things don’t change I guess.’

‘Hi, Belinda.’ Megan couldn’t even inject any fake enthusiasm into her voice, but was considering running out of the place and ordering a pizza instead. And soaking herself in a vat of wine. This was going to be awful, no doubt. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh great, great! I run the beauty salon in the village, “Bel’s Belles” have you seen it? It’s completely gorgeous.’

Maybe it would be okay if she could just keep Belinda talking about herself until her food arrived, Megan thought.

‘I’ll be sure to have a look, that’s really exci—’

‘Oh my god! This is her?’ Belinda pointed at Skye, other hand to her mouth. ‘This is your little mistake all grown up?’

‘Excuse me?’ Megan took a step forward, and Lucas seemed to step in front of Skye a little bit.

‘Oh don’t be sensitive, Megan, we can’t all do things the right way around.’ She put her hand up to her mouth, as if to keep a secret. ‘My first was born a couple of months after my wedding, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Of course, I didn’t run away and abandon my family…’

Don’t snap, don’t run, don’t…don’t be Megan about it all, Megan thought desperately to herself. But her options seemed to be leaving, or slapping the bitch.

‘We do what we need to, don’t we,’ Megan said with understanding, ‘which is why some of us end up with fantastic careers in the poshest part of London, and some of us are still stuck here, cutting the dead skin off people’s fingers.’ Megan smiled, watching as Belinda seemed to figure out that she was not going to get away with her usual games, not any more.

‘You should meet my husband, I’m sure you remember him,’ she yelled behind a family standing at the counter. ‘Honey, kids, come over here.’

Belinda’s smile told her something wasn’t right, and she looked over to Lucas, who shrugged, a hand resting on her back. Skye was looking up at him, sensing something was wrong, and he shrugged, twirled a finger by his temple and mouthed ‘crazy’.

Skye giggled, until Belinda looked straight at her, and she froze.

Belinda grinned at Megan. ‘Megan, you remember Joey?’

And Joey appeared, awkward and stuck to the spot. He raised a hand, and shrugged. ‘Hey Meg, how’s it going?’

He looked much as she’d expected, the strong athletic frame had disintegrated into general bulkiness, too many nights in a comfy chair drinking beers and eating burgers at the match on Saturdays. His hair was thinning out on top, and someone (probably Belinda) had convinced him it was a good idea to have a spray tan. His teeth were blindingly white, and the whole thing was an attempt at an Essex boy look that just didn’t work. Two kids poked their heads out from behind him, scowling at their mother for summoning them. They looked just like the demon spawn Megan would have expected.

‘What’s your name, honey?’ Belinda asked Skye, her voice saccharine.

‘Skye,’ the child mumbled, eyes narrowed as she decided that no, she did not like this woman.

‘Skye! What an interesting name!’ Belinda mocked. ‘Why did you choose that?’

‘It was what I was looking at when I was flat on my back bringing her into this world,’ Megan snapped.

‘Well, Skye,’ Belinda continued, ‘aren’t we lucky that we got to meet you? Such a coincidence!’

‘Why is it a coincidence?’ Skye frowned, and Megan sensed it coming in the same way everything seems to slow down in those war movies when you hear the high-pitched whine of a missile headed your way, or a grenade about to explode.

‘Well, otherwise you would never have got to meet your daddy!’ Belinda said proudly, teeth bared as she pointed at Joey. ‘Or your half-brother and sister!’ The demon children stared at her in disgust.

‘My…my daddy?’ Skye stared up at Joey in surprise, and he shrugged, lips pressed together, unsure of what to say.

‘Hey,’ he tried for a smile, with a little wave. Skye moved further behind Lucas.

‘Luke?’ Megan said calmly, her eyes never leaving Belinda’s. ‘Can you and Skye wait outside for me please? I’ll just be a second.’

‘But Mum –’

‘I’ll be one second baby, promise.’ Her voice was soft and friendly, and she smiled at Belinda, waiting until she heard the bell ring behind them as Lucas and Skye shuffled from the chip shop. She stepped closer, trying not to choke on Belinda’s musky perfume, a grim smile on her face.

‘Bel, you’ve always been a bitch, but if you think you can start messing around with my family, you are the dumbest bitch I’ve ever met. You even look at my daughter again, and I will end you.’

Belinda tilted her head to the side. ‘Well, what with me being married to her father, you could say she’s my daughter now too!’

Megan got closer and closer, until she was nose to nose with Belinda, and simply smiled. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes, as she looked at a stupid woman trying to cause trouble. She’d been the same at school. It was just pathetic.

‘I should pity you, with this sad little life you have, but I don’t. I don’t pity you one bit because you got exactly what you deserve. People always get exactly what they deserve, Bel.’ Megan stepped back, a nasty grin playing around her mouth as she turned to leave.

‘Slut!’ Belinda seemed to choke on the word, so desperate to say something. Megan’s smile didn’t waver as she whispered in her ear.

‘You had a part to play in what happened, Bel, and people don’t forget. Don’t mess with me, bitch. I’m a Londoner now.’

With that Megan strutted out of the chip shop, an imaginary crowd singing in her ears. Outside in the cold, her whole body started to shake with the shock of it, and Lucas watched her with worry, placing a kiss on her cheek.

‘So…’ she said cheerfully, taking Skye’s hand, ‘who fancies Chinese?’

***

September 2004

She knew she shouldn’t have lain on the floor. But the sun was out, they said it was the last good weekend of weather before autumn came. She’d been staying in Beanie’s house, which was sweet, but she didn’t like to be there too much during the day, what with her term time being over, and her tendency to smoke a lot of weed and have her bongo-wearing ‘activist’ friends around all the time.

Megan had been working in a local cafe until last week, when they’d declared that she was getting a little bit too big to be shuffling in between tables and lifting heavy trays of food. They were sweet, and friendly, a completely different feel to working in Vittorio’s all those years, with the penguin suits and the attitude. At the Railway cafe they wore their own clothes, gave Megan extra shifts if she wanted them, and kept trying to send her home with extra food, instead of just her one meal included in the work contract. They seemed to know that was the only meal she had a day. Not that it mattered, as she’d take the leftovers home and Beanie’s stoner friends would have annihilated it by the next day. But at least she felt like she was contributing something to the flat.

Sala and the other staff seemed to be genuinely sad to lose her, as she’d maintained a friendly demeanour and go get ’em attitude no matter what. Regardless of the irate customers needing a coffee fix, her hormones blazing all over the place and the fact that her feet always hurt. They were swollen and huge in the summer, even the straps of her flip flops strained against her massive feet.

They’d offered her a job when she came back, although she had no idea how she was going to swing that. What was she going to do with the baby? She’d been talking with a young mums’ charity, and was looking into getting housing when the kid arrived. She wasn’t ready. But there were nice moments, like the little kicks in the morning, and seeing the scans, the strange alien head becoming more and more prominent.

She lay back in the sunshine, starting at the sky, crossing her hands behind her head on the grass. It was a beautiful day. And even though she knew, any minute she was going to start sweating profusely, and she’d probably have to roll over like a sad turtle in order to get up again, probably gripping onto anything available for dear life, it was worth it, to just watch the clouds pass by and think of nothing. To be completely, contentedly pregnant, with no guilt, no coffee-guzzling strangers touching her stomach. No old women looking at her in the street and assessing her age. The clouds made unicorn shapes and she sighed, as relaxed as she could possibly be.

Then the pain started. It was a throb at first, then searing, splitting, ripping agony all through her mid-section. She tried to wobble herself upwards, trying to relieve the pain but she couldn’t get up. And suddenly there was a wetness, and a clamping, tense pain, and she thought ‘Dear God, please don’t let me have my daughter on the top of Primrose Hill.’

***

The walk down to the Chinese take-away was awkward. Lucas was trying to engage Skye in a chat about Elvis, but her heart wasn’t in it, answering in monosyllables. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, but she was still holding Lucas’ hand as they walked along, so Megan didn’t class it as a total defeat. Megan slipped her hand into Lucas’ free one, and whispered, ‘Thank you for trying.’

‘I can see why you kept that one a secret.’ He looked at her, suppressing a grin. ‘Didn’t want everyone to know how you moved down in the world?’

‘Everyone’s a step down from the great rock god Lucas Bright.’ She rolled her eyes, desperately trying to keep it together. He wasn’t judging her, wasn’t looking at her with derision or disgust. She wanted to cry with relief. But the true damage wasn’t with her, it was with Skye.

‘Baby, how you doing with everything?’ she asked softly.

Skye pursed her lips, thinking. ‘Well, I didn’t think I’d meet my biological father in a chip shop.’

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.’