Driving Home for Christmas Page 12

  A couple of hours later, when Skye’s fingertips were covered in red lines, but she’d performed a fair rendition of the first few bars from ‘Hound Dog’, they decided to call it a day. Lucas and Skye approached her together after she finished clapping, each taking a bow.

  ‘I was really sad, because this is the best gift ever, and I didn’t have a gift to give to Trouble,’ Skye said, overtly innocent, eyes to the ceiling, and Megan thought uh oh here comes a scheme. ‘So I thought because I didn’t have a present, I could give him you.’

  My child, the pimp. Cheers kid, Megan thought.

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘I would give him the gift of…’ She turned to Lucas, who mouthed something to her. ‘…the gift of your company,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Tonight. For dinner. Grandma wanted me to make our own pizza together. And you don’t like pizza, so you can go with Trouble.’

  ‘Hey, I like pizza!’ Megan argued. ‘And if you owe Lucas a present, why am I going to dinner? Shouldn’t you be going to dinner?’

  Skye moved in closer, and put her hand up to whisper in her mother’s ear. ‘He said the best Christmas present he could have would be to spend time with you.’

  Megan looked over at him and raised her eyebrows. ‘Way to manipulate my child, Bright.’

  He held his hands up in a ‘who, me?’ gesture.

  ‘Mum,’ Skye grabbed her hand, ‘this will be good. Promise.’

  She didn’t know how her child had this way of saying things like she was a fortune teller, but Megan always believed her.

  ‘Okay, okay. Let me go get changed.’ She stood up.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Lucas said, smirking as he took in her current outfit of oversized jumper and leggings with reindeer on them.

  ‘Well, it would serve you right after getting my child to pimp me out to pay her debts. Sadly, I have too much pride to be seen around here in these clothes.’

  ‘Lucky me,’ Lucas said and stuck his tongue out, his eyes following her as she ran up the stairs.

  ‘What does pimping out mean?’ Skye asked, dragging his attention back.

  ‘It’s when you decorate a car really outlandishly,’ Lucas said quickly. ‘So…excited about Christmas?’

  Skye tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised. She knew when adults were lying, but she let it go, with more important things to cover. ‘You’re not going to cause trouble, are you? Because I like coming back here, and having a family. And I don’t want us to never come back again.’

  Lucas held out his pinky finger to link with hers. ‘Promise, kid. No trouble, only making amends.’ He paused, seeing her confused look. ‘Making it up to your mum.’

  ‘What do you have to make up for?’

  He sighed, his light eyes looking up to the ceiling. ‘I have no idea. But your mum was my best friend in the whole world. And she’s been gone a really long time. I want to make sure she doesn’t leave again. At least without saying goodbye.’

  He sat back on the sofa, and Skye moved over to sit next to him, staring at the floor.

  ‘I asked Mum if you were my dad. She said you weren’t.’ Skye looked at him. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Apparently so, kid,’ Lucas shrugged.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind if you were,’ Skye said quietly, tapping her fingertips together as she stared into the distance.

  ‘And I would be honoured to have a daughter like you.’ He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘But we get to be friends, right? Really great friends.’

  ‘Will you teach me some more guitar before I go home?’

  ‘I’ll have you performing on a stage before you go home, just you wait!’ Lucas nudged her and she laughed, until they both saw Megan coming down the stairs. Skye grinned at Lucas. Megan’s brown hair glowed in the firelight of the living room, and she had a black fitted dress with grey tights with her knee-high black boots. In her ears, novelty Christmas earrings twinkled, little silver stars with tinsel streamers. She looked radiant. Skye thought she’d never seen her mum look so…alive before. Like she’d been walking around in watercolours and now suddenly she was vibrant oil pastels in thick, bright lines.

  ‘Ready to go?’ she asked Lucas, who stood up and nodded wordlessly with an open-mouthed smile.

  ‘You look lovely, Mum!’ Skye said, hugging her.

  ‘Seconded,’ Lucas added.

  ‘Thanks.’ She shot Lucas a smile, before returning her focus to Skye. ‘So what’s the plan tonight?’

  ‘Me and Grandma make pizza, and I’m playing chess with Granddad, then we’re going to watch a film and I will be in bed before ten,’ Skye nodded, halo in place.

  ‘Ten? ’ Megan raised an eyebrow.

  ‘That’s what Grandma said!’

  ‘Hmm, well me and your Grandma are going to have words then,’ Megan half-teased, but really, wasn’t that what this whole thing had been about? After telling her mother she was going out for dinner, and might be home late, she kissed Skye goodnight, and they set out.

  She stood in her driveway and looked at his car.

  ‘You are kidding.’

  The same little red Micra sat before her, sad and worn, and yet somehow, infinitely charming.

  ‘You still drive this heap of crap? You’re a teacher! Do they even let you onto school grounds with this death trap?’ she exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat, looking at everything as if for the first time.

  ‘You still have a tape deck?!’

  ‘I have an iPod adaptor too, madam.’ He stuck out his tongue as the car wheezed into first gear. ‘And I do actually have a grown-up car sitting on my driveway. I hadn’t sold this yet and thought you’d enjoy the trip down memory lane.’

  She shuffled in her seat and looked at him. ‘Some parts of it.’

  ‘Only fun, I promise.’

  He looked at the road, carefully considering the country lanes, and she was suddenly back in those summers where she’d put her feet up on the dash, dozing behind her sunglasses as he’d driven them around, no reason, just for something to do. Music played loud, bag of crisps and cans of coke in the back seat, until they found some deserted space to sit with the doors open, and look out at the greenery, read a book or nap. Later, once they’d become a couple, those drives had a more specific purpose.

  She looked at Lucas, trying to find the exact changes of age. His hair was shorter, his face softer somehow, the stubble more fitting for a grown man than a teenager who could never seem to even it out. He was painfully beautiful, the pouting lips still capable of pouting, even now whilst he was softly humming along to the radio. She wondered how she looked to him now, whether she’d matured into the woman he’d expected, or whether she looked the same. Or worse, she was some aged disappointment, simply a mother and nothing more. Not that it mattered. They were being friendly. That was it.

  ‘Where are we going for dinner?’

  ‘Surprise!’ He sent a smile her way.

  ‘I don’t think anything about this place can surprise me,’ she shrugged, leaning back in the chair. ‘Well, except for the fact that you’re here. And Estelle’s here.’

  ‘We didn’t all need to make it in the Big Bad City. Besides, didn’t you see we have a Subway now? We’re moving into the twenty-first century, one sandwich shop at a time.’

  ‘I have missed it, a little,’ she said thoughtfully, looking at the tall pines that lined the road, the barest sprinkling of snow on their top branches. It was a beautiful place to live. But somehow, it just held shame and regret. Like she was stepping back into being that person. The Megan who had so much promise, and then was gone. She straightened her back a little. She wasn’t that person. She wasn’t an angel or a devil. She was just her, doing her best.

  Lucas pulled the car into his driveway, little fairy lights around the doorframe.

  ‘Are we stopping for something?’

  ‘No…I wanted to make you dinner,’ Lucas shrugged, jumping out of the car and running round to open her door for her.

&n
bsp; She looked at him in confusion. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Being a gentleman,’ he frowned, closing the door behind her, and leading the way to the house, hand resting on the small of her back.

  ‘And you’re going to cook? You think I trust you after the macaroni cheese incident of 2001?’

  ‘I can cook!’

  ‘That’s what you said then, too!’ Megan laughed, putting a hand on his arm. ‘Sorry Luke, thank you for wanting to cook me dinner.’ She paused. ‘And if you give me food poisoning before Christmas, I’m never coming back again.’

  He raised his eyebrows as they walked into his house, flicking the lights on. ‘sSo you were planning on visiting a bit more then?’

  ‘There are some things worth sticking around for, I think,’ she said, staring intently at the objects in the room, flicking from the guitars to the massive vases on the floor.

  He smiled to himself, and went to the kitchen. ‘Wine?’

  ‘Ooh, yes please!’ She hovered in the living room. ‘Do you need me to do anything?’

  ‘Nope, you make yourself comfortable. Fizzy okay?’ He pulled a bottle of Prosecco from the fridge, holding it up.

  ‘That is never a question you need to ask,’ she grinned, coming over to the kitchen area, wincing as he expertly twisted the bottle, and the cork popped. He poured into two champagne flutes and handed her one.

  ‘Cheers,’ he grinned.

  ‘Cheers.’ They clinked glasses and she sipped delicately. ‘I can’t believe you have proper champagne glasses! What bachelor knows to have different types of glassware?’

  ‘They’re only from IKEA,’ Lucas shrugged.

  ‘But…you’re a grown-up now. I don’t even have my own cutlery. We just live at Anna’s, using her stuff.’ Megan frowned. ‘I really should have thought about creating my own identity by this point.’

  ‘Are you thinking of moving out, getting your own place?’ Lucas asked as he turned on the oven and got out the chopping board, washing his hands. She was shocked by how at home he was in the kitchen.

  ‘Never really thought about it. We could, Anna will only accept a minuscule amount of rent, as much as I argue, so we have the savings.’ She sipped her wine. ‘But we love being there. I love that I have a friend, that we have a family. I didn’t want it to just be me and Skye. I was willing to do it, but kids need family. She’s going to need someone to moan about me to when she reaches her teens.’

  ‘Very true.’ Lucas smiled up at her whilst she perched on a bar stool across the counter from him, and she felt her heart chirrup.

  ‘You ever think about leaving?’ she asked innocently, trying not to return to those accusations she’d made the other night, that he’d thrown away his life.

  ‘All the time,’ he shrugged, ‘but also, I like it here. I have this place, I have my routine. I like my work. I have my avid fans waiting at the Nag’s Head for me every week…what’s not to love?’

  ‘You want a family someday?’ Why were these questions so personal? She and Lucas would have talked about stuff like this all the time when they were kids. What they wanted to do, how they wanted to live. Now it felt like some sort of online dating profile, where she was assessing him for compatibility.

  ‘Yeah…’ He trailed off, as if there was an alternate answer coming, but said nothing.

  ‘Yeah?’

  He took a gulp of his drink, and focused on chopping cucumber, very delicate and precise strokes. ‘The reason I came back…after I got married, we were on the road, touring, having a great time. Living the rock and roll life. And Amber, my ex-wife, she got pregnant.’ His mouth twitched into a grimace, and the knife hovered above the salad, before he began chopping again. ‘She had an abortion. Didn’t tell me til a couple of months later. Seems most of the women I know don’t think I’m father material.’

  ‘Lucas –’ Megan started.

  ‘No, it’s fine.’ He put up a hand, tried to smile but didn’t meet her eyes. ‘My old man always used to say the same. I’m not dependable, not steady. Not that the old git knew what he was talking about, he came and went so many times growing up that it was like having a drunken clown turn up on a whim.’

  ‘I remember,’ Megan said softly, recalling Lucas’ thirteenth birthday when his dad arrived with a kid’s tricycle, stinking of booze, and fell asleep in the back garden under the hedgerows. Lucas hadn’t said anything, pretended it hadn’t happened and got on with his party.

  ‘So, that’s when I came back here, got my teaching degree part time, and here I am. Bachelor pad and slightly old rock god.’

  ‘You still seem to have your teeny bopper fans as always,’ she smiled, thinking of the girls in the front row at the pub, looking now as they had then, enamoured and in love with the idea of Lucas Bright. She’d always been so proud to get down off the stage and know that she loved the real him, the one who could sit quietly for hours. To her, he didn’t have to be performing or singing to be loved.

  ‘Ah, they’re all into teenage boy bands who sound like they’ve had their bollocks chopped off. Which is fine by me. Having a bunch of fifteen-year-olds sigh at you on stage when you’re seventeen is cool. When you’re nearly thirty? Not so much.’

  He got a tray out of the fridge and put it into the oven, dumped the salad into a bowl, and grabbed the bottle of wine. ‘Want to sit on the sofa for a bit? It’ll take a while.’

  ‘Did you plan this, Lucas Bright?’ Megan teased, noting his cheeks redden.

  ‘I pre-made some chicken. It’s hardly rocket science.’

  ‘Used to be.’

  ‘Well, people change,’ he said pointedly, topping up their glasses before sitting next to her, a little too close.

  ‘Yes, they do,’ she said quietly, reaching out a hand to his.

  Megan took a deep breath. ‘I used to wish she was yours. All those nights I was so bloody angry with myself, that I’d ruined everything.’

  ‘You didn’t ruin anything until you ran, Angel,’ he said softly, tracing her cheek with his thumb. ‘I would have been there. I tried to be, tried to find you. No one tends to give you information when they think you drove someone away.’

  She winced. ‘I’m sorry. I just…It was too much. I was ashamed and miserable and –’

  ‘Stubborn,’ Lucas smiled at her, knowing her still after all that time.

  She traced circles on his wrist, the way she’d always used to, calming and electrifying all at once.

  ‘Why am I here, Luke?’ she asked quietly, eyes meeting his.

  ‘Because I’ve missed you.’ The hand that had stroked her cheek now rested on her neck, thumb stroking gently down her collar bone until she found it hard to breathe. She felt sure her legs were shaking.

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ she whispered, edging herself closer along the sofa, leaning in just the smallest amount. It felt like a lifetime where she wasn’t sure what she was meant to do, only that her stomach was in knots, her fingers trembled and she had forgotten what it felt like to be kissed.

  Lucas kissed her, soft lips meeting hers and she could taste his smile. She sighed in relief against him, pulling him closer, still holding her drink aloft as his stubble softly grazed her cheeks. It was so familiar and yet so different. She could have said she was mad about Lucas all those years ago, completely in love and attracted. But this was different, some desperate hunger was rising up within her, and she couldn’t help but let out little sighs as he pulled her closer, warm, holding her solidly, as if afraid she might run.

  ‘Wait,’ she breathed, and watched his nervous face as he looked at her.

  ‘Was that not…? Sorry –’ He started to move away and she grabbed his arm.

  ‘No! No, just –’ She took his drink and put both of them down on the table, then reached for him again. ‘Come back!’

  ‘So demanding all of a sudden, very familiar,’ he laughed against her lips, more insistent as he pulled her against him, taking their time, feeling their way into everything. Megan
pulled back and kissed his neck, that spot just under his ear that had always driven him crazy. He hissed a little. ‘You remember that?’

  She remembered all of it. He dropped his head, licking along her collarbone, and she shuddered. He hadn’t forgotten either. It was the strangest sensation, following the same moves as adults, as if they had even touched the surface of the things it was possible to do in bed when they were together before. It had always been simple, and whilst Megan had always been satisfied, it had been more about being as close to him as she possibly could be, stealing his warmth, feeling his weight on her, feeling safe and loved.

  Now she knew that this volcano building up inside her was true desire, and she didn’t know quite what to do with it. His hands on her, even through her clothes, felt hot and overwhelming, and as she curled her legs over his on the sofa, arms around his neck, his hand tracing up her thigh, she felt like it was hard to breathe. She locked her arms tighter, opening her eyes to find him looking back at her, bright blues only inches from her face.

  ‘Hey beautiful,’ he smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Hey you.’ She felt like her face was going to crack from smiling, and yet, bizarrely, wanted to burst into tears at the same time.

  ‘As much as I love this, and believe me,’ he pecked her lips, ‘I love this,’ he kissed her again, ‘I kind of need to make sure I don’t burn my house down.’

  Megan breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her legs up beneath her. ‘Good idea. Fire safety first.’

  Stop yammering, idiot. She breathed deeply, clutching her glass of wine like a lifeline.

  ***

  August 2003

  ‘Are you sure?’ Lucas asked for the fifth time, and she was starting to get irritated. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Weren’t they just meant to fall into bed in a passion, desperate for each other? Instead, they’d had the house to themselves whilst his mum was away in Wales for the weekend with her latest fella, Nigel the security guard. They’d cooked together (sure, it was only pizza, but putting it in the oven was a team effort. Plus they’d avoided garlic bread) and broken into Linda’s drinks cabinet to have a couple of vodka and lemonades to loosen them up. But it still didn’t seem special.