Driving Home for Christmas Page 16

  ‘You’d have let me come with you if I was the father though, wouldn’t you?’ Lucas said sharply.

  ‘Probably. But only because it would have been your right,’ Megan sighed.

  Lucas squeezed her. ‘You’re a bloody complicated woman, you know that?’

  ‘I was a complicated teenager. I’m pretty simple now.’

  He tangled his fingers into her hair, his thumb stroking her neck. ‘Nope, always complicated, Megan McAllister. You’ll always make things more difficult than they need to be.’

  ‘And what does that mean, exactly?’ She pulled back to look at him.

  ‘It means that we both know this isn’t casual, we both know that we have something here that can last beyond Christmas and this village. And you’re going to pretend as long as you can that it doesn’t exist.’ Lucas leant in and kissed her gently, pulling back briefly to lock eyes with her. ‘I’ll let it go for now, but at some point you’re going to see what we are, Meg, and you’re going to have to make that decision.’

  ‘Nothing comes before my daughter, Luke, nothing.’

  Lucas looked briefly amused. ‘No, but she’s a terribly good shield isn’t she? Skye and I get on, I love her to bits. I was willing to raise her before she even existed, that hasn’t changed. The decision is nothing to do with her, or me, or your parents, or this place. The decision is about whether to let me in. I can’t keep knocking at your door, Meg, not if I think you’re never gonna answer.’

  Megan looked at him, his eyes so bright and sincere, that soft grin playing about his mouth because he knew he was right and was trying to be gentle.

  ‘I hate metaphors,’ she said softly.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I hate how you make me make these big life-changing decisions.’

  ‘I hate how you run instead of making them.’

  She wriggled in his arms, warm, and soft, and safe. The way it always had been.

  ‘Keep knocking just a little while longer, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ he breathed.

  ***

  February 2003

  ‘It’s that boy! I always told you he’d drag you down!’ Heather screeched at her, following her around with a piece of paper the school had sent home.

  ‘He’s not dragging me anywhere! We make music together!’ Megan yelled back, feeling shaken by the frequency of these arguments. It had taken years for her to find a voice, and now it felt like she couldn’t stop. First the hair dye, then the piercings, then the band. The day her cherry red Fender Strat arrived, delivered to the front door, her mother started such a screaming fit that Megan had to lock herself in her room to get away from it. And here they were again, round one thousand.

  ‘Oh that’s what they call it these days, is it?’ Heather smirked. ‘Music? It’s a wonder you haven’t got yourself knocked up.’

  ‘We’re in a band, Mum, I don’t see what’s so strange about that.’

  ‘This letter says you’ve been excused from your extra gymnastics and when I called the French tutor the other day, she said you’d already cancelled! Are you trying to throw your future away?’

  ‘I am trying to have some say in the life I build for myself! I want to pick my future, not the one you’ve picked for me!’

  Heather’s face grew cold. ‘You selfish little bitch!’

  A soft cough came from the background, where Jonathan stood watching the whole scene. His face was blank, and Megan couldn’t tell if he was going to say anything or simply let it carry on.

  ‘Jonathan?’ Heather said, smug smile on her face. ‘Do you have anything to add?’

  Jonathan said nothing, standing in the corner, still as a statue. After what seemed like an age of looking to her father for some kind word, some staying hand, he simply avoided her eye contact and said, ‘Go up to your room Megan, please.’

  She did so quietly, her mother’s words on repeat…selfish little bitch selfish little bitch…

  An hour later her father came upstairs with a mug of tea and a bowl of soup, but said nothing. She wasn’t even surprised.

  ***

  Jonathan was pottering around in the den, cleaning his vinyls and humming along to James Taylor. Megan was still trying to get used to how her parents looked different, more calm, more…provincial, somehow. Looking at them now, she got the strange feeling that they were never that scary, were never really able to exert any control over her. Like they’d known that all along, and that’s why they’d held the reigns so tightly. Not that she’d ever get over that look of disgust on her mother’s face, but the words were starting to fade a little. One thing was still bugging her, though, and it was more the things that had never been said. She’d been honest with everyone else; it was Jonathan’s turn.

  She coughed, and knocked on the door to the den. His eyes lit up, ‘Come in, come in!’ and he pushed a few papers over so she could sit down on the sofa. ‘Is Skye with you?’

  ‘She’s reading upstairs,’ Megan started. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you…’

  Jonathan nodded seriously, dragging over a swivel chair from the desk and perching on it.

  ‘Do you need money?’ he asked, ‘because I’m more than happy –’

  ‘No, Dad.’ Megan held up her hand. ‘Thank you, but we’re very much okay. I just wanted to talk to you about everything that happened, about…well, about everything.’

  Jonathan looked down at the floor, a slight colour appearing in his cheeks. ‘Okay, what would you like to say to me?’

  He looked like he was building a mental dam, preparing for the great waves to come crashing down. Megan didn’t let it stop her.

  ‘Why did you never defend me when Mum got on one of her over-achiever moments?’ she started gently. ‘You knew I didn’t want that life, you knew I was trying so hard, that I was working myself until I passed out. You knew I was exhausted and miserable and was only doing it to please her. Why didn’t you help me?’

  ‘Darling,’ he exhaled roughly, his eyes a little wet, ‘what do you think I’d been doing for the last twenty years of my life? Working until I was exhausted and miserable, just to please her.’ He shrugged. ‘Making her happy was the only thing I knew how to do. I never knew how to say no, and I just trusted she knew what was best.’

  Megan knew the disappointment showed on her face.

  ‘I know I’m a coward,’ Jonathan said suddenly, ‘I know I should have stood up for you. All those times you were tired and ill, and I knew you were trying so hard, and I was just… Your mother was different then. I was different then.’

  ‘What changed?’

  ‘Well, you leaving, for a start. The realisation that you’ve failed your child, that you couldn’t be there for them when they needed you – it puts things in perspective. And without you to be her project, your mother actually went out and got hobbies, interests of her own.’

  Megan nodded, noting that everything in the house seemed to have slowed, become gentler somehow. She thought perhaps it was that Jasper existed, and that her dad had taken retirement. But he was right, Heather was different.

  ‘It came from a place of love, Megan,’ he sighed, ‘a place of awe, even. Your mother thought you were so wonderful that you were capable of anything.’

  ‘Of anything but living a life that was mine,’ she replied dryly.

  ‘Well, you’ve proven her wrong, haven’t you?’ Jonathan smiled, and reached over to squeeze her hand. ‘Shall we have a cup of tea?’

  Megan smiled back and nodded, getting up.

  ‘Did you get what you wanted from me?’ Jonathan asked her, pausing before they entered the kitchen.

  ‘I think so,’ she shrugged, knowing that it was more about her saying it than about him saying anything in return. They had only just set foot in the kitchen and greeted her mother when Skye burst in.

  ‘Trouble says he’s going to take me to see the reindeer in the park, can I go?’

  ‘Just you?’ Megan said, trying not to feel left out. Her mother laughe
d at her, standing doing the washing up.

  ‘I asked if we could spend some time together and he said yes,’ Skye shrugged. ‘Well, no, actually he said to ask you, and if you said yes, it was okay. So is it okay?’

  Skye was rarely so excitable, yet there was a niggling feeling in her stomach. Sure, it was great that she and Lucas were on good terms again, it was great that Skye liked him. But it was impermanent. She had escaped this village once, and she wasn’t staying any longer than necessary.

  ‘Baby, did you already see the reindeer the other day? I thought you said they were boring?’ she asked.

  Skye nodded. ‘But Lucas said he’s going to take his guitar and we’d sing them Christmas carols and…we wanted to practise a song for you. As a Christmas present…’

  ‘Is that the truth or are you just wheedling?’ Megan asked, head tilted, hands on hips. Jeremy called it Mum Mode.

  Skye rolled her head. ‘It’s true, but he told me not to tell you, so it could be a surprise. But I said you don’t do surprises and I’d have to tell you, and now I have.’

  Megan blinked. ‘When did all this happen?’

  ‘He gave my his phone number and said I could call whenever I wanted. Please, Mum? I want to be really good at playing!’

  Megan looked to her mother, who shrugged, clearly amused as she continued with the washing up.

  ‘A couple of hours. Christmas Eve is a time for family,’ Megan said, wondering whose words she was stealing. ‘We’re going to call Anna this evening too.’

  Skye’s face lit up, and she launched herself at her mother. ‘Thanks! You’re going to love it! It’ll be the best Christmas present you’ll ever get! Trouble promised!’

  Megan relented, arms still around her daughter,. ‘You still want to be a detective though, right? No dreams of being a rock star? Because it gets you into trouble, believe me.’

  Skye grinned. ‘And being an inspector doesn’t?’

  ‘Better amps and bass, than dead bodies and hitting Colonel Mustard in the library with a vase,’ Heather nodded.

  Megan looked at her mother incredulously. ‘Thanks, Mum! Big help!’

  ‘So Trouble can come get me? I’ll go call him!’ Skye rushed from the room.

  ‘Tell him to bring his new car, I don’t want him taking you out in that death trap!’ Megan called after her, turning back to find her mother laughing and shaking her head.

  ‘Welcome to motherhood,’ she said.

  Chapter Ten

  July 2003

  ‘You do realise this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas?’ Lucas fiddled with his shirt collar in the rear view mirror. Megan had come out to sit in the car with him, seeing as he’d been parked outside her house for the last twenty minutes.

  ‘It’s not that bad. They like you.’

  ‘I am the very symbol of your rebellion. They hate me,’ Lucas shrugged, ‘look, I’m doing this because you’ve asked me to, but I expect rewards for this. And brownie points. And if someone punches me you have to sit there with frozen peas and make sympathetic girlfriend faces.’

  Megan grinned, ‘have I actually found something the one and only Lucas Bright, rock legend, is scared of?’

  ‘Have you met your mother?’ Lucas rolled his eyes, and opened the car door. ‘Come on then, let’s get the party started. I brought my own pitchfork incase they broke their last one.’

  He walked around the car and hovered as she got out, reaching for her hand. He looked nervous, a little paler than usual, a little clammy (probably from wearing a long sleeved shirt on a warm July evening). It was somehow adorable.

  ‘Thank you for doing this,’ Megan linked her arm through his as they walked up to the front door.

  ‘She gets two pops at my Mum and unlimited comments about my career prospects and bad grades-’

  ‘You don’t have bad grades.’

  ‘But I’m not going to Cambridge,’ he raised an eyebrow, before continuing, ‘and if she starts on Clare or you, I’m out.’

  ‘She wants you here to get to know you,’ Megan said sensibly, and managed to look serious for about a minute, before laughing.

  ‘Megan McAllister, the sort of girl who’ll bring a lamb to slaughter,’ Lucas sighed and kissed her cheek as they reached the front door.

  ‘Lucas Bright, the sort of guy who’ll meet families just to keep a girl happy. Who knew?’

  ‘You know, and that’s what matters.’

  In the end, Heather hadn’t hated him. She’d wanted to, but the charm offensive was far too strong, and by the end of the night, despite his low status and the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere fast, she was convinced Lucas might even be good for Megan. A motivator. He wanted great things for her. Jonathan chatted to him about music, and for the first time in a long time, the McAllister household was calm.

  ***

  Skye returned at six pm with a smug look on her face. Megan opened the door, saw Skye jump up and give him a hug, declaring ‘Bye, Trouble!’ before she ran into the house.

  ‘Hey you,’ he grinned, leaning on the door frame, ‘missed me?’

  ‘Not as much as my daughter, apparently.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Care to explain?’

  ‘We’ve bonded,’ he shrugged, running a hand through his dark hair, ‘and I wanted some advice on your Christmas present.’

  ‘Luke, I haven’t got you anything –’ she said quickly, and he leaned in, dropping a kiss onto her lips.

  ‘Yes you have.’ He smiled against her, hands on her waist. ‘You’ve given me a second chance.’

  ‘I don’t –’

  ‘And I just wanted to give you something to say thank you, to say how I’ve missed you. To show you how happy I am.’ He beamed at her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, and he was warm and solid, and there. But there weren’t second chances, she wasn’t staying, and he had to know that, right?

  ‘That’s great babe, and I appreciate it, but –’

  ‘No buts! Me and Skye want to give the present to you together. I know you’re spending Christmas Day with your family, but I thought maybe this evening I could come back…?’

  He looked so eager, it was hard to say no.

  Jonathan approached the door whilst they were talking, reaching out a hand to Lucas. He lifted one hand from around Megan, but didn’t make a move to extricate himself.

  ‘Son, it’s so good to have you back around again, and seeing the two of you together…’ he smiled, ‘just like old times. Makes an old man happy, you know?’

  ‘We’re not –’ Megan started.

  ‘You doing anything tomorrow, son, with your mother and sister away? I know we’d love to have you.’

  ‘Dad!’ Megan said, irritated. ‘Don’t you think you should ask Mum before inviting people to Christmas dinner?’

  ‘It’s just Lucas,’ Jonathan shrugged, ‘we’ve known him forever.’

  ‘And until last week you spent the last ten years trying to beat him up whenever you saw him.’

  ‘Completely justified,’ Lucas nodded, ‘I’d have done the same, sir.’

  ‘Stop it! Both of you!’ Megan growled.

  ‘Don’t you want me to come to dinner, Angel?’

  ‘Would you stop calling me that? I’m not Angel! I’ve never been an angel! I fuck up, and I make mistakes, and you can’t just ignore that because I’m here again!’

  Lucas looked at her like he wasn’t really sure what to do with that information.

  ‘I know you’re not perfect, love, it’s just a nickname.’

  She stood looking at him, feeling her father shrug behind her as he walked away.

  ‘I don’t have to come to dinner…’ he shrugged, ‘your dad was just being nice.’

  Well, now she felt like a bitch. ‘It’s not that…it’s just…we’re going to be going soon, and I’m worried about Skye getting attached to you.’

  ‘And what about you? Are you worried about being attached to me?’ He leaned in closer until she was settled in his arm
s again.

  ‘Yes. I am,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve managed pretty well without you these last ten years and…’

  ‘And you don’t want me to come on in, fuck it all up and have to start again from scratch,’ Lucas nodded. ‘I get it, Meg, I do. But at some point, you’re going to have to let someone in. No one’s going to be good enough for the two of you, but you have to take a chance.’

  She rested her head against his, breathing deeply, knowing he was right, but still not able to let go of that fear. It wasn’t just her life any more, it was Skye’s. The poor kid had been through enough trauma this week. It was safer to be alone.

  ‘Trouble!’ Skye ran back. ‘Are we going to give Mum her present now? Or tomorrow?’

  ‘Up to your mum, kid,’ Lucas said, searching Megan’s eyes for the answer.

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘Tomorrow. Lucas will come by tomorrow and we’ll eat and do presents after dinner.’

  Skye clapped her hands in glee, a motion she’d no doubt stolen from her grandmother.

  She looked at him. ‘I’m really trying.’

  ‘I know you are, babe. I’m just trying to keep on knocking those walls down every time you put a new one up. You don’t have to do everything on your own any more. You never had to.’

  He kissed her cheek gently, knelt down to give Skye a hug, and some sort of deeply complicated handshake they’d created. And then he was gone, leaving Megan bereft and relieved all at once.

  Chapter Eleven

  December 2005

  Megan was trying to be upbeat, holding Skye close to her as they sat around looking at the Christmas tree in the centre. They’d been kind, the people there, finding her a room. She’d made her money last, sparingly spending on food, trying to figure out what she could do. She thought there might be a way to use the crèche at the centre, and look for a job. If she could get a job, she could get out. But Skye wasn’t even six months yet, and the idea of leaving her with strangers made Megan’s chest contract. She’d crashed with Beanie, a friend who’d gone off to uni in London the year before. Beanie’s parents were loaded, and she had a gorgeous flat in Chalk Farm. But the point was that a baby in student accommodation wasn’t really fair, and she’d always planned to leave. She needed a plan, and for once she didn’t have one. She’d applied for housing, would be getting a little money every month when the papers went through, she’d been assured, but until then she was waking up each morning in the hostel, not sure if there’d be a bed for them the next night. As much as the people at the centre were trying to help her, she was still scared all the time. She’d known it was going to be difficult, but she didn’t really think about what ‘homeless mother’ meant before. She’d only been focused on leaving her mother’s disgusted look behind her. She was never going back. She’d put up with whatever she needed to.