Christmas for One: No Greater Love (25 page)

‘How
did
you find me?’ Meg cringed as soon as the words left her mouth; it sounded as if she had been hiding. She was, however, curious, having lost contact with Lorna after her last move. Unaware that her mum had relocated, she had travelled to Hackney and stood face to face with a Polish man and his wife who shook their heads, no they didn’t know Mrs Hope and no, they definitely didn’t where she was living now. If they did, they would have told the gas, electricity and cable companies, who were all keen to have their accounts settled.

‘Our Liam told me. I went to his flat. Shit-hole, isn’t it?’

Meg thought about her cousin Liam’s flat. It was grim, true, but had provided her with a roof over her head when she had needed it most.

‘He’s a shifty little bastard, that one,’ Lorna continued. ‘He said you’d got yourself some fancy new friends.’ She waved her hand in the air as if proving the point.

Meg’s cheeks flushed scarlet. Liam was sweet and kind and he loved her. Despite his rough exterior, he would walk over hot coals for Lucas and that was all that mattered. She knew that any ‘shiftiness’ in his demeanour would have been due to suspicion at Lorna suddenly appearing after all these years.

‘You look nice and skinny.
I
was always like that, mind.’ She rubbed her hand over the generous stomach that sat above her thin legs, giving her an almost barrel-like appearance. ‘I had you and was in my jeans by the next day, out clubbing the day after that!’

Out clubbing when I was only two days old – I believe you.
Meg shook her head to erase the image; her mum had found her and this was to be celebrated. No point trawling through the past, what would that serve?

‘Where’s the boy?’ Lorna had never met her grandson, but had been informed of his birth via a text message to which she hadn’t responded. Meg knew that Liam’s mother had bumped into Lorna in Wembley and had shown her one slightly out of focus photograph taken on her son’s phone.

‘He’s in Barbados.’ Meg spoke without a filter, then realised how surreal that probably sounded to her mum. To her knowledge, Lorna had never left the UK and holidays were almost unheard of. It was yet another jolt of realisation that the world she now inhabited was very different from the one into which she had been born.

‘Barbloodybados? Well I never. What’s he doing there? Who’s he gone with, his mates?’

Meg laughed again; another refreshing reminder of just how funny her mum could be. ‘No, although at the rate he grows and the way the years fly past, it won’t be long until he does.’ Again she worried that this might be seen as a veiled dig at her mum’s absence. Maybe it was. She wished she could relax and wasn’t so guarded.

‘When’s he back then?’ Lorna asked.

‘In about ten days’ time. He’s there with Milly and Pru, who I work for and live with, obviously.’

‘Blimey, that’s all a bit cosy, isn’t it?’ Lorna seemed to be insinuating something.

‘Well, it just works. They are lovely to me and always have been. It was tough when Lucas’s dad died.’ She let this hang in the air.

Lorna chose not to pursue it. ‘It’s a nice name, isn’t it, Lucas?’

‘Yes. I love it.’

Meg walked over to the console table and picked up a silver-framed photo of Lucas. He was on his red truck and had his thumb in his mouth as he looked up into the lens. It was one of her favourite photos of him. She handed it to his nan.

Lorna studied it briefly. ‘Don’t know who he looks like, not our lot that’s for sure.’ Lorna placed the photo back in its place, running her finger over the frame.

Meg smiled and thought of Isabel, who fixed on even the remotest family resemblance in her grandson. According to her, Lucas had William’s eyes, her father’s nose, her brother’s smile… And yet Lorna could see none of her genes in Lucas.

‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he?’ Meg beamed. No matter what their history, she, like any other girl, wanted her mum’s approval, wanted to show off her greatest achievement.

‘They’re all beautiful until they grow up and start giving you lip.’ Lorna sniffed. It wasn’t quite the response Meg had hoped for.

‘Come through, Mum, and I’ll make us a cup of coffee.’ Meg led her mum down the hall.

‘Gawd blimey! Look at this! It’s like a mini Downton Abbey, isn’t it?’ Lorna was clearly taken with the grand sitting room. She walking over to peer through the floor-to-ceiling Georgian windows, just visible behind their heavy drapes.

Meg shrugged. ‘It is lovely to see you, Mum. A bit strange after all this time, but lovely.’

‘It is, love,’ Lorna confirmed as she reached into her bag for her cigarettes.

Meg opened her mouth to protest as Lorna pulled at the French doors that led on to the Juliet balcony. This, Meg knew, would make little difference, but it felt churlish to request that her mum didn’t smoke. After all, she was her mother and instructions and reprimands usually flowed in the other direction. Plus she didn’t want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already might be.

Meg balanced the tray as she walked back into the sitting room. Lorna was still smoking her cigarette by the open balcony door; the smoke blew back in and circulated around the room, filling the space with its toxic fumes. Meg’s nose twitched.

‘It’s funny, isn’t it, you think you know a city and then you’re shown a different view, a different postcode and it’s like a whole other world. I think if I lived here, I’d sit and watch the world going by below me, all them people with their fancy handbags and posh haircuts. I bet they’ve never had to struggle. How is it that some of us struggle our whole lives and others don’t? That’s weird, isn’t it?’ Lorna turned to look at her daughter as she took a long, deep drag on her dwindling fag, before turning her head to the window and blowing the smoke out. She flicked the butt from the pad of her thumb with her forefinger. Meg gasped, praying it didn’t land on some unsuspecting passer-by, especially not a Plum Patisserie customer. The seconds of silence told her Lorna had probably got away with it. Her heart skipped a beat nonetheless.

Placing the tray on the coffee table, Meg twisted her hands together. ‘How long are you here for, Mum?’ She felt oddly nervous around her mum and struggled with what to say next, which made their conversation a little stilted.

‘What, you trying to get rid of me already? I’ve only just taken me shoes off!’ Lorna gave a wheezing giggle that turned almost immediately into a cough.

‘No!’
The exact opposite. I’m wondering how long I’ve got you for. Who knows when I’ll see you again?
If
I’ll see you again.
‘I was just thinking about what to get for us to eat tonight and stuff. That is, if you’ve got time. If not, then that’s okay too, but it would be really nice.’ Meg recognised the neediness in her tone.

Lorna smiled. ‘You was always a good eater. I remember when you were little, you’d eat anything I put in front of you. Not like Jason or Mel.’

Meg winced at the mention of her older siblings, the ones who got to stay while she had to go. She could only picture them as surly teenagers; ghost-like figures whose names were engraved in her memory but whose substance and characters were missing.

‘They were fussy little bastards. I spoilt them.’ Lorna nodded.

Meg looked at her mum and wondered if she had ever actually indulged any of them. She was not able to remember a single example. She pictured Lucas, who knew only the exact opposite.

‘Do you ever see them, or Robbie or Janey?’ Deep down, Meg hoped the answer was no, that she wasn’t the only one who’d been cut out of her mum’s life. But then she felt bad for wishing her same sad situation on her siblings.

‘Nah, all grown up, living their own lives. I think Mel’s up north somewhere, Yorkshire or something like that, I don’t know. If I have to go north of the Watford Gap I get a bit jittery.’ Lorna made it sound like this was the norm, as though her children were like chickens that had flown the coop or bears that after the first hibernation were set free to roam and fend for themselves.

Meg thought of her brothers and sisters scattered across the UK and beyond and wondered how many nieces, nephews, brothers- and sisters-in-law she had never met, how many cousins and family celebrations Lucas would be denied. They were a family fragmented like a broken mirror and just as dysfunctional. It made her sad that even if it were possible to glue all the pieces back together, the whole would still be riven with blemishes, cracked and useless.

‘Yeah, I’ll stay for tea if ya like, that’d be lovely.’ Lorna took up a seat on the sofa and picked up her mug of coffee. ‘Is this free or are you going to charge me an arm and a leg? Just that I’m skint, might only be able to afford half a cup.’ She winked. ‘I’m not stopping you working, am I, love?’

‘No. I pretty much work every day, through choice, not because I have to. It’s easy to catch up on emails when Lucas is playing and I go down into the café when he’s at nursery. So when I take a few hours or a day to myself, no one minds.’

‘That mincey gay bloke said you was Miss Plum’s assistant, is that right?’

Lorna’s summary of Guy hit Meg in the face as surely as any sting from a raised hand. ‘Guy’s one of my best friends,’ she retorted. ‘And Lucas’s.’

Lorna seemed indifferent. ‘Yeah, him. Is that right then? You’re her assistant?’

Meg nodded. ‘Yes. I’m still learning the business, but I’m like the eyes and ears of Pru and Milly.’

‘What, like a grass?’ Lorna gulped her coffee.

Meg snorted her laughter. ‘Yes, Mum, I’m a grass.’ She giggled again, thinking of all the patisserie training, the hours spent watching, reading and learning everything she needed in order to try and step into Pru’s shoes.

‘Do you earn a lot of money?’ What might be a taboo subject in other families was to them quite ordinary. They both recalled counting coins into palms to cover the cost of a pint of milk, and searching down the back of the sofa to try and gather enough for a bus fare.

‘Yes, I suppose I do. It feels good to know that I can provide Lucas with a great future. If he wants to go to university or travel, then he can. To give him that freedom… That’s all I want really.’

Lorna yawned. ‘University, eh? Blimey. Well, it’s good to know all them afternoons with Uncle Frank paid off – he was your dad’s brother, he was a grass too.’ Lorna tucked her leg underneath her bottom, making herself comfortable.

‘I don’t really remember him,’ Meg confessed.

‘No, you wouldn’t. He went inside when you were quite young, been in and out ever since, so I hear.’

Meg smiled as she imagined how Isabel would take this news.

With each hour that passed, the two relaxed into each other’s company. Having polished off a large bowl of shepherd’s pie, peas and carrots, washed down with a bottle of plonk, they were slumped on the sofa. The Christmas lights of Curzon Street sparkled beyond the window and a small lamp lit the room from inside. The soft half-glow made it easier to talk with honesty. Meg, like her mum, had kicked off her shoes and they now sat facing each other.

‘… So that was that.’ Meg let her palm fall into her lap. ‘I came back to London and have been ignoring his texts and missed calls. I can’t believe I fell for it, but I did, hook line and sinker. He was lovely, nice-looking, kind, successful. The full package. Or so I thought.’

‘You’re probably better off. I don’t trust Americans.’ Lorna pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

‘Do you know any?’ Meg was curious.

‘Yes, loads, of course I do! There’s that OJ Simpson – didn’t he bump off his wife and then get away with it? And what about
Breaking Bad
? That’s how they actually live; making drugs and living in a trailer.’

Meg smiled. It wasn’t quite what she had meant by ‘know’.

‘Nah, America’s no good. You’re better off, love. They’re all either God-botherers like Tom Cruise or they’ve got guns, shooting each other every five minutes and eating nothing but doughnuts. And don’t get me started on
Jersey Shore
. I’ve seen it, whole place looks like shite.’ Lorna shook her head in distaste.

Meg didn’t bother to try and put her right. Her mum was correct about one thing: she was better off without Edd, no matter how much it hurt to admit that. A liar in her life was one complication she didn’t need. Her tummy tightened as she recalled Flavia’s voice on the intercom:
‘Edd’s girlfriend. And you are…?’

Meg glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven o’clock. ‘Do you have to head off soon, Mum? Or shall I open another bottle?’

‘I don’t have to be anywhere, love. You open another bottle,’ she said graciously.

Meg jumped from the sofa and bounded into the kitchen, feeling a rush of love for this woman who had given birth to her and was in no hurry to disappear, not this time.

The wine loosened Meg’s tongue and gave her confidence. ‘I’m happy you are here.’

Lorna raised her glass. ‘Yep, me too.’ Her head lolled a little against her chest.

‘It’s especially lovely because it’s Christmas!’

‘It is. It is.’

‘It was never the best time of year for me when I was growing up,’ Meg admitted. Then swiftly she added, ‘But not because we didn’t have any presents.’

‘Didn’t have any money for bloody presents!’ Lorna’s interruption was sharp.

‘No, I know, and as I said, it wasn’t about that, not for me. It was more the expectation of what Christmas
should
be and the fact that it was always a bit disappointing.’

‘Welcome to my life. That about sums it up – a bit disappointing.’ Lorna laughed once.

Meg looked at her mum, checking it was okay to proceed. Lorna was listening calmly. ‘I think I had an idea of what it should be like, the family all together.’ Meg paused, this was hard to talk about. ‘I guess being away from you at that time of year was harder than any other. Every advert and picture I saw told me I should be at home with you, waiting for a cake that you’d popped in the oven, or decorating the tree—’

‘You’d have had a bloody long wait! Don’t think we ever had a tree and me and cake baking don’t exactly go together. Any rate, you’ve more than filled that gap – you live in a sodding bakery!’ Lorna wheezed her laughter.