Читать книгу Love At Christmas, Actually: The Little Christmas Kitchen / Driving Home for Christmas / Winter's Fairytale - Jenny Oliver, A. Michael L. - Страница 14
ОглавлениеMegan had phoned Jeremy that morning, eager for a catch up before Skye started demanding that she speak to Anna.
‘So what’s going on in Casa Anna?’ She curled up on her old bed, and it could have been any weeknight when she’d been on the phone to Lucas, or any of them. She rubbed the corner of her old blanket against her cheek.
‘The biddie army arrived yesterday, with food orders and demands about decorations. They’ve decided they want a Gatsby-themed Christmas. I’m sure most of them can remember the 1920s firsthand,’ he bitched. She could imagine him there, filing his nails, or putting on his make-up. Or maybe he was scratching away in his notebook, sitting with a glass of Sangria in the Ideas Cupboard.
‘How’s Anna finding all that?’
‘Loves it, as always. She’s been a bit more worn out though, sleeping in a lot more. I told her I’d take over things.’ She heard the grin in his voice.
‘Oh sweet Jesus, please don’t tell me you’ve replaced their Gatsby with drag chic?’
‘Just a few changes for my own amusement,’ he laughed, ‘like they’re even going to notice that the silver confetti is penis-shaped instead of diamonds. Really. Half of them can’t see themselves in a mirror. Which explains the eyeliner.’
‘Don’t be mean!’
‘I’m not! I’m thinking of starting a biddie make-up service. When your hands start to shake and the liquid eyeliner goes everywhere – who ya gonna call? You know how many rich, proud old ladies are out there? I’d be rich!’
‘Yeah, but rich, proud ladies don’t tend to want a little bitch judging them about their make-up capabilities.’
‘They adore me, they don’t know I’m bitchy,’ Jeremy said pointedly, ‘plus most of them can’t hear much.’
‘Incorrigible.’
‘Exactly. So tell me more about being home?’
Megan paused, unsure of what to say, how to sum up this weird feeling of familiarity, with the sadness of loss. She loved being back, but it wasn’t home any more.
‘I bumped into Lucas.’
‘The Lucas?’
Megan sighed, ‘Uhuh.’
‘How’d it go?’
‘It was fine, after my brother punched him, and my father tried to do the same. Apparently he’s been letting them think he’s the father all these years. They’ve been randomly punching him for ages.’
‘That’s…insane. But also kind of sweet,’ Jeremy said. ‘Are the sparks still there?’
Megan swallowed, thinking of his fingers stroking the sleeve of her jumper, the way his eyes lit up when he tilted his head to the side and laughed. The way her chest seemed to throb just thinking about it. Shit.
‘Still there on my side. I doubt he’s interested in the girl who’s made him a target all these years. But he did invite me for coffee,’ she said with hope in her voice.
‘That sounds promising,’ Jeremy said.
‘Well, we were friends for a long time, he probably just wants to catch up. It’s natural to be curious about people’s lives.’
‘It’s natural to stay the heck away from everyone and not get involved,’ Jeremy corrected.
‘You’re a Londoner, you don’t understand.’
‘You’re a Londoner too now, love, you have been for years. Don’t be going back to the country and start saying hello to strangers on the street now, I may have to disown you.’
‘And a merry bloody Christmas to you too, Scrooge!’ she laughed, watching as her bedroom door squeaked open, and Skye poked her head in.
She pointed at the phone. ‘Is that Anna?’
Jeremy, Megan mouthed. Wanna say hi?
She handed the phone over, and said she’d be downstairs getting breakfast, whilst her daughter occupied the space she vacated. She watched for a moment. Her daughter would be a teenager before too long. She’d grow up, and go off to uni and get a career, start her own family. And where would Megan be? Back at Anna’s with Jeremy, getting wasted on G and Ts each night and wondering why she’d never made a relationship work. She smiled at her daughter and padded down the stairs.
Heather was dishing up pancakes. ‘That girl of yours can eat. Reminds me of Matty.’
‘It’s that big brain, needs a lot of feeding,’ Megan replied, sitting down and helping herself.
‘So…not so much like Matty,’ Heather quipped and they grinned at each other, the gaze fading into a sort of sadness as they realised how long it had been since they’d been relaxed.
‘I…I was wondering,’ Heather started, ‘if you and Skye would like to come shopping with me today. Nothing stressful, just maybe a nice outfit for Christmas Day, pick up a few last-minute things if you see them? Damien’s done up the book shop beautifully, I’m sure Skye would love it, and there’s some more live music in the square today…’
‘We’d love to, Mum.’ She smiled, and Heather took a deep, steadying breath, looking relieved.
‘Good,’ she nodded, smiling to herself as she continued scrubbing the frying pan.
***
September 2004
They were sitting practising in the school music room. No one else tended to use it, and they could dance around, play loudly, sing to each other. That day, Lucas stood on the table in the empty room, reverb turned up on the amp, sunglasses on as he serenaded her with ‘Wild Thing’. ‘I think I love ya,’ he slurred, wiggling his hips and pointing at her.
At first she’d laughed, so crazy in love with him as he strutted and played and sang. But slowly, as the song carried on, she realised that being a wild thing meant leaving, meant being free, meant not being trapped. And as much as she loved Lucas, she wanted that escape. He’d told her not to make him that person, right? He’d told her to make him let her go. She was a wild thing.
By the end of the song there were tears in her eyes, and as he jumped off the table, his pleased-with-himself look faded to one of concern. He pulled the guitar strap over his head and stroked a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
‘What’s up, Angel?’
‘I’m a wild thing,’ she said simply, tears streaming now.
He frowned, and then understood, nodding. ‘Wild things need to be free.’
‘At some point we’re going to have to end it.’
‘I was hoping we’d have a little longer, love, to be perfectly honest.’ He put his arms around her waist, and she clung to him, breathing him in, her face pressed into his neck.
‘It’s better to end it, and be friends before I go.’ Megan was amazed at how firm she sounded, how in control of it all she was. But her heart hurt, and she thought she was going to be sick, and there was Lucas, nodding sadly, tears in his own eyes.
‘Not yet though, not quite yet. I know you think it has to happen, that somehow we can’t last a couple of train journeys…’
‘It’s…it’s about fresh starts, and needing you. Needing you as my friend, in my life. Always.’ She launched herself at him, awkwardly sticking her face into his neck.
‘But we’ve still got some time, love. Not yet, okay?’ He stroked her hair, somehow, always so understanding that this was the right thing, the accepted thing, for his Angel, the Megan who was going to go off and Do Things, like no one had ever achieved anything whilst being in love.
She nodded. ‘Not yet.’
‘Bloody song,’ he tried to joke, ‘you might not have realised if I’d played bloody Elvis or someone.’
Megan flashed him a quick smile through the tears, trying to imagine a life without him.
***
Her mum was right – the bookshop looked beautiful. Skye was enamoured immediately, winding through the shelves, using the little ladders to reach different levels, swinging like a trapeze artist. Damien’s bookshop, simply called Read, always looked magical at Christmas. Hell, it looked magical all year round. The light gently flickered, with fake candles lining the shelves, fairy lights zig-zagging across the top of them, creating a glowing canopy. Damien’s wife Ginny had made spiced hot apple on the stove, and gingerbread cookies from the oven. The whole place smelled heavenly.
‘We’re not going to get her out of here anytime soon,’ Megan whispered to her mum, watching as her daughter’s face lit up. ‘In fact, she may never come home.’
‘That was how you used to be,’ Heather said, smiling at the memory. ‘I used to panic, thinking I’d lost you, and you’d always be here. One time I would have sworn we were on the other side of town, and you’d somehow gravitated towards the place.’
‘Good to know some of the good traits passed on,’ she grinned. ‘Actually, I haven’t found any bad traits yet. Except an unnecessary amount of emotional maturity, and spending too much time focused on homework.’
‘Yes, a demon child, obviously,’ Heather laughed.
When Skye had found a couple of books she loved, and Megan pointed out that perhaps Santa would get them for her (with Skye rolling her eyes in response) they walked down the high street to the town square, where once again, a crowd had gathered around the main stage.
‘Hey, it’s the troublemaker!’ Skye said, pointing at the stage.
Lucas waved back, not having heard her, and went back to setting up his guitar.
‘What do you mean, darling?’ Heather shared a worried look with Megan, who just shook her head.
‘That guy who came to the house with the carollers, and uncle Matty was embarrassed, and Granddad was angry at first, and Mum was really irritated. He had to be the cause of it, the Troublemaker.’ She paused, pleased with her assessment. ‘Sounds like a good name for a villain.’
‘He’s not a troublemaker, hun, he was caught up in the middle of something that everyone thought he did, but he didn’t do it.’ Megan felt a headache coming on.
‘Well, he made you upset, and I didn’t like it.’ Skye crossed her arms, stubborn as ever.
‘Well, thank you babe, that’s lovely.’ Megan put her arm around her. ‘But he’s actually my oldest friend. And he’s a very nice guy. You might like him once you get to know him.’
‘Riiiiight,’ Skye said, sure that something else was going on. ‘I doubt it, but an investigator must always be open to new evidence.’
‘Very wise,’ Heather said. ‘Do you want to hear a little or shall we carry on shopping?’
Skye went to shake her head, insistent that she didn’t need to know the Troublemaker, but then he started to play. She knew the song from the first few notes, and as Troublemaker started to play ‘Hound Dog’, she found herself smiling against her will. Megan watched with amusement as her daughter kept trying to frown, but ended up singing along. He’d won her over and he didn’t even know. She watched him up there, sparkling away, in that Lucas Bright way he’d always had. Playing with heart and everything he had, shining with enthusiasm. Halfway through the song, Skye gave up trying to frown and just smiled as she danced.
I know how you feel, kid, Megan thought, and bopped along.
At the end of the song, Megan and Heather nodded at each other, thinking perhaps they should get on with their shopping, but Lucas’ voice stopped her.
‘This one is for a very special friend who’s back in town for a little bit. I hope she likes it.’
Some teenagers in the front were clearly in Lucas’ music class, as they started making ‘ooooh’ noises and giggling to themselves.
He started playing ‘Wild Thing’, but she’d never heard it like that before. Pared down, simple, acoustic. It was heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time, and she just stared at him across the crowds, smiling, feeling her nose go cold as her eyes watered.
Skye tugged at her mittened hand. ‘Are you the special friend, Mum?’
Megan just nodded, eyes shining as she focused on the stage, on his eyes staring back at her, trying to start again.
When that song finished, he went into some more standard covers, and they thought they’d better get going. Most of it was Heather making recommendations for ‘darling little outfits’ for Skye, who was more of a jeans and Converse girl. But she went along with it in good spirits, pleased to please her grandmother. The only time she was actually excited was as they walked past a shop with mermaid leggings in the window. They were black with emerald shimmering scales that seemed to move, even as the reflections of Christmas shoppers walked past the window.
‘Oh!’ she sighed, fingertips resting on the window.
‘I know!’ Megan sighed as well, wishing, not for the first time, that they made kids’ clothes in adult sizes.
‘Really? Mermaids?’ Heather said, tilting her head to look at them. ‘Where would you wear them?’
‘Everywhere,’ Megan and Skye said in sync, and then grinned at each other.
‘Well then, it looks like Santa’s got quite a bit to buy.’ Heather raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who shrugged.
‘Why don’t you girls go have a wander whilst I finish my errands? It’s all boring stuff, ties and socks and boy things, mostly,’ Heather said, with a shooing gesture. ‘I’ll meet you by the grotto in about an hour?’
Skye and Megan shrugged, looking so in sync that Heather was both mystified, and a little sad. She’d never been that close with her daughter. Perhaps the age difference was working for Megan and Skye, she thought, and tried to blot out the horrible things she said that night, that always seemed to hover in the background now, whenever thoughts of Megan emerged.
The girls wandered off back into town.
‘So, what do you think about this place?’ Megan asked casually, when really the question she was asking was how do you like your family?
‘I like the bookshop,’ Skye replied as she wandered through the cobbled streets, watching teenagers with Santa hats walking together, arms linked as if they couldn’t bear to be apart. ‘And I like everyone, Grandma and Granddad and Matty and Claudia and Jasper. And Minnie, even.’
‘I’m glad, bub.’ Megan squeezed her daughter’s hand.
‘Are you happy though, Mum? You seem weird here.’
They walked into the centre, sitting on a bench where they could see Santa’s grotto, even though they had ages.
‘Do you ever wonder why we haven’t been back here til now?’ Megan asked, watching her daughter’s beautiful, intelligent face twitch. Skye put her hand to her cheek, lips pursed. It was her ‘detective thinking’ face, and whilst Megan knew it was an affectation, she knew that Skye was really thinking it through.
‘Well, first I thought they must be really mean. But they’re not. They’re nice,’ Skye started.
‘Yes, they are.’
‘But, well, you are a bit young, Mum, aren’t you?’ Skye said, echoing what Heather had said years ago. You’re young, too young, don’t you see what a baby you are.
‘I mean, you’re not young to me, to me you’re really old–’
‘Oi, less of the really, missus!’ Megan tickled her.
‘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,’ Megan 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.
