Love At Christmas, Actually

‘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 arms 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.

Skye looked up at her, big hazel eyes already intelligent and loving. ‘We’re going to be okay, baby girl. I promise.’ She held her close, rocking her back and forth, and wondered what her parents were doing. Whether Matty was still waking up late and rolling down just in time for dinner, his Christmas Eve-induced hangover debilitating as always. She imagined the smell of the turkey, and her mother’s gingerbread stained-glass biscuits. How the tree always looked so higgledy and yet so perfect, with the same radio station playing in the background until she nearly went nuts with Christmas carols.

‘We’ll make our own traditions, baby,’ she whispered, her lips to Skye’s forehead. ‘We’ll start completely new.’

‘McAllister? Is Megan McAllister here?’ The woman from the reception desk walked through, waving a piece of paper. Megan raised her hand.

‘There’s a woman here to see you. She says she’s your aunt.’ The lady handed over a Christmas card. On the front there was a picture of Mary in the stables, surrounded by the animals and the three wise men. Inside the card read:

‘A bit late to offer my barn for the birth (it took a while to track you down). Please spend Christmas with me? From one black sheep to another. Anna.’

‘Is she still here?’ Megan asked the woman, who nodded. Megan picked up her bag, nodded, and walked out into the snow.

***

That night, after Lucas left, Megan felt like Skye might need distracting, seeing as she kept playing the old red fender and talking about music non-stop.

‘Shall we call Anna and wish her Merry Christmas?’ Megan said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be crazy busy with her decorating and her guests, but let’s see if she can fit us in, eh?’

Skye was more than keen, and they sat up on the bed, legs crossed, the phone on speakerphone in between them.

‘Anna! Merry Christmas!’ they sang down the phone when she answered.

‘Well, hello darlings, Merry Christmas,’ her throat croaked.

‘Have you got a cold?’ Skye asked, concern etched across her face. Anna was never sick.

‘A little bit. I suppose I may have overdone it this party season, darlings.’ Anna coughed slightly. ‘Jeremy has been a great help though. It looks beautiful. Completely twenties. I’ll leave the decorations up so you can see them when you get home.’

‘And you haven’t opened your present yet?’ Megan checked, her voice overly cheerful as she watched Skye, hand to cheek, eyes calculating.

‘No, mother, I’ve been completely good.’ She could hear Anna rolling her eyes. The word mother stuck, and Megan thought suddenly, Anna’s my grandmother. Skye’s great-grandmother.

‘And are you girls having a good time in the village? Everything as painfully quaint and ordinary as usual?’ Anna drawled, her derision evident.

‘Well, we made friends with Lucas, and I’m learning to play with the guitar, and Granddad plays chess, and Gran makes cookies, and I met my biological father in a fish and chip shop, but he was pretty boring, so I don’t think it’s a great loss.’

Anna wheezed, ‘Well, that certainly sounds eventful, darling. Definitely something to put in your diary.’

‘It’s not a diary! It’s a detective notebook!’ Skye whined.

‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, of course. I miss you and your wonderful quirks very much. I can’t wait to see you when you get back.’ There was a pause and she wheezed heavily. ‘Do you think I could talk to your mum in private for a minute, love? Is that okay? And me and you will have our private chat tomorrow?’

Skye shrugged, looking at her mum, who nodded.

‘Okay, love you!’

‘Love you too, sweetness. Merry Christmas.’

Megan picked up the phone and turned off speakerphone. ‘Why don’t you go see if grandma needs any help trying to make that Oreo cheesecake she’s especially making for you? You’re an expert.’

Skye looked irritated. ‘You don’t need to find excuses, I know you need to talk in private.’ She flounced out of the room, and Megan waited until she heard the heavy footsteps running down the stairs.

‘What’s going on, Anna?’ she said simply.

‘I’m not very well, darling, as I’m sure you’ve heard.’

‘Jeremy alluded to something, but he was pretty cagey,’ Megan said irritably. ‘What’s wrong? Should we come home?’

‘Darling, you are home.’

‘You know what I mean, how unwell are you?’ Megan pushed, knowing the answer was going to be one she didn’t want to hear.

‘Well, if you must know, I’m quite beyond reprieve,’ Anna laughed. ‘I’d hoped to present it slightly better than that, perhaps with a slideshow.’

‘Did you know about this before we went?’

‘Of course. Why do you think I made sure you went? I wanted you and Skye to have a family.’

‘We have a family,’ Megan insisted, trying to stay angry so she couldn’t be upset, ‘we have you. Why, of all years, would you make us leave when you were ill?’

‘Because, as much as it might surprise you, being an invalid is not something I particularly revel in. And I wanted this business sorted with your mother before…’

‘Before…?’ Megan felt herself take a sharp intake of breath. ‘Before what?’

‘Before Christmas is over,’ Anna answered smoothly. ‘Really, darling, stop being so dramatic. You’ve always been so stoic. Having a baby in a park, living in a hostel, working in that dive bar. You never make a big deal of things. And I’d rather you didn’t now.’

Megan paused, checking the door was closed. ‘Are you…are you dying?’

‘We’re all dying.’

‘Stop it. Stop that right now.’

Anna sighed, her voice a little less affected. ‘Yes, I’m dying.’

‘And you sent us away?’

‘I wanted you to reconnect with your mother. It was my gift to her. To both of you. I’ve never been very good at fixing things, but I hoped that by relinquishing you, you’d start to put the past behind you.’

Megan breathed deeply. This holiday had been one emotional beating after the other. She wondered if it was too late to find Belinda and wait for her to say something horrible, just so she could punch her.

‘You want us to move back here and start our life again with my parents?’ she asked.

‘God no, in that little village that doesn’t even have a theatre? What am I, a philistine? No darling, I’m leaving the house to you, you’ll come back here and live your life as you please, of course.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant, Anna.’ Megan felt the tears start in her chest, staggering and breathless.

‘I know, sweetheart. But look, no need to get yourself all worked up. We’ll talk tomorrow and you’ll come back in a couple of days and we’ll have some time to get it all worked out.’

‘You promise?’ Megan asked, wiping her eyes.

There was a long pause, until a very quiet ‘yes’ came from Anna.

‘Okay, we’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘Sweetheart, I don’t think I need to even say that I don’t want everyone knowing about this?’ Anna’s strong voice returned, light but warning.

‘Who’s everyone?’

‘Anyone.’

Megan shrugged. ‘You don’t think they’d want to know?’

‘I just want everyone to have a nice day. I’ll tell your mother on Boxing Day, promise.’

Megan nodded, saying nothing.

‘I love you, darling, you’ve given me the most wonderful ten years. Made everything…made me myself again. No one could have done that but you. And Skye,’ Anna coughed, rarely one for expressing her emotions. Megan wanted to say something equally powerful, but anything she said now would feel like goodbye.

‘Love you, Anna,’ she said simply, ‘you’ve…you’ve done everything for us.’

She hung up, with the terrible realisation that sometime soon she was going to have to tell Skye the truth.

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