Driving Home for Christmas (22 page)

‘Grr!’ Skye made a face, holding up a paw.

‘Go on then, what do you think?’

Skye looked at the pen that turned into a microscope, the small leather-bound detective notebook, the purple zebra-print guitar pick, and the bobble-headed Elvis doll.

‘Awesome,’ she nodded, ‘thank you, thank you!’

‘I love mine too!’ Megan said, knowing that Heather had taken Skye out to buy things, a job usually reserved for Jeremy. She had a purple fountain pen, a purple nail polish and a pair of exotic brass earrings with dark blue stones in them. ‘These earrings are wonderful, Skye. I’m going to wear them today!’

‘Good,’ Skye nodded. ‘Well, should we…should we go downstairs?’

‘Yes, let’s go put the coffee on. And I’m sure even the people in this house love being woken up by the smell of bacon!’ Megan laughed. ‘Race you!’

They thundered down the stairs laughing, and it was only when she opened the fridge and saw the bottle of champagne that Heather had bought, trying to share in their tradition, that Megan remembered Anna wasn’t going to be doing any of this. Or perhaps Jeremy would try, but she wasn’t sure it would be the same.

The house woke up slowly, roused by bacon and coffee, and whilst Heather insisted she needed a clear head for the cooking she was about to do throughout the day, she shared in a toast with them. Jonathan got involved making bacon sandwiches, and they sat around the Christmas tree in the living room, munching away and planning which presents to open first.

‘Just a few this morning, then some later when Matty, Claudia and Jasper arrive,’ Heather said.

‘And Trouble!” Skye added.

‘And Lucas, yes,’ Megan said, somehow still irritated about how he’d infiltrated her daughter’s life. Why was she angry about that? She’d had sex with the guy. She was still absolutely attracted to him, and was enjoying this casual, limited-time-only situation they seemed to have going. But he was insisting on getting to know Skye, and making her love him, and then where was Megan going to be? Back in London, explaining to Skye that not only had she denied her the chance to properly engage with her father, but she’d also dumped the man that Skye had formed an attachment with. It had never been this hard when she was just keeping to herself, she thought, downing the glass of champagne and going for a refill.

‘Open this one from us, darling!’ Heather handed Skye a round box with a big bow on top. She looked to Megan, and delicately pulled at the ribbons, slowly taking off the lid. Megan laughed at her daughter’s attempt at being ladylike.

She reached into the box and pulled out a trilby hat, with a little feather on the side. The inside was lined with silk, and Megan shuddered to think how expensive it had been.

‘Every real detective needs a good hat,’ Jonathan said, clearly excited by what must have been his idea. ‘Do you like it?’

Skye gripped it in her hands, face lit up. ‘I love it!’ She placed it on her head, running her fingertip along the rim like in the old black and white movies. She threw herself at Jonathan. ‘Thank you both so much!’

‘One from me,’ Megan said, handing over a squishy package, that however hard she tried, would never be wrapped as well as her mother had managed. ‘Thought you might want to wear it today.’

Skye had no qualms about ripping that one to shreds, and when she discovered the mermaid leggings, she did a little dance in the middle of the room.

As Skye ran off upstairs to get dressed, trilby still atop her head, the three adults set about tidying up the living room, throwing away paper, washing dishes.

‘It’s so wonderful to have a child in the house again,’ Heather said, ‘it’s what Christmas is all about really, isn’t it?’

Megan nodded. ‘I guess it is.’

The day went smoothly enough, the turkey wasn’t dry, the potatoes weren’t burnt, and Jasper and Skye played quietly. After dinner, when everyone was stuffed, sitting on the sofa with half-finished plates of Christmas pudding, Lucas arrived. Megan supposed she should have made more of an effort, instead of wearing leggings and an oversized red jumper. The only thing about her that was put together were her newly purple-painted nails, and the earrings she was wearing. She was a mess. And seeing as she’d had a drink every time she thought of Anna, and every time she’d rung the house and couldn’t get through, she was feeling pretty worse for wear. Skye was playing on the floor with Jasper, helping him with a puzzle when the door rang.

‘Trouble!’ she yelled, jumping up to open the door.

‘Skye, don’t yell!’ Megan said, getting up.

She opened the door and there was Lucas, grinning at her, guitar on his back. He’d not shaved for a few days, and his dark bristles filled out his face. In his hands he held big Christmas bags with Santa’s face on, containing chocolates, bottles of bubbly, whisky for Jonathan and other bits and pieces. Her heart softened a little at the effort he was making. But that was the point, wasn’t it? That’s what he was trying to tell her, he was dependable, strong, always-there-for-you Lucas. The idea of being looked after, just for a little bit, was not unappealing. Skye jumped up into his arms, so he had to drop the bags, with an ‘oof’.

‘Hey,’ he grinned at her, ‘are you an underwater detective? Because that would be a great story. A team of mermaids who fight crime. What do you think?’

Skye shrugged. ‘Could make it into a song?’

‘I will try my very best.’ He adjusted her on his hip and turned his attention to Megan. ‘Well, hello there, gorgeous, Merry Christmas.’ He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and she held her breath at the scent of his cologne.

This is what it would have been like if he had been Skye’s dad, Megan thought to herself as she closed the door behind him, and Skye jumped down. They would have been friends, he would come around to see her. Why did no one else see how weird this all was?

Instead they all greeted Lucas, thanked him for the gifts, popped another bottle of bubbly. It was expensive, so Claudia was pleased, Matty was glad he didn’t have to punch anyone any more, and Heather kept looking between her and Lucas on the sofa, with Skye sat in the middle of them, instead of watching the television.

‘You look so good together, such a lovely little family,’ she exclaimed at one point, but went quiet when Megan widened her eyes into what was commonly called The McAllister Death Glare.

Lucas didn’t seem to mind at all, relaxing into the sofa, putting an arm across the back of it, his fingers stroking the back of her neck in a way that was absolutely too comforting. The bastard. Why was she fighting this again?

She looked across at him, beautiful as ever with his tightly fitted blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves, his arm muscles clearly defined through the fabric. He’d gelled his hair, and Skye had noticed at once, clapping her hands and grinning at him. He’d made a delicate attempt at an Elvis quiff. For her daughter.

She needed to stop being so hard on him, Megan realised, relaxing against him on the sofa as Skye got up to play with Jasper. She felt his arm around her shoulder, comforting and warm, and looked up to find him staring at her with that same look of wonderment that she remembered from their teen years, being on stage. It made her feel precious and powerful all at once. He kissed her forehead. ‘Merry Christmas, Angel.’ Lucas winced. ‘Sorry, old habits.’

‘I’m sorry about yesterday, I’m just a bit overwhelmed with everything. I never thought you’d still be here. And when you were, I didn’t think you’d talk to me.’

‘We’ve done a lot more than talk, babe,’ he whispered into her ear, lips hovering against her neck. Then he squeezed her shoulders as he sat back, watching as she turned a lovely shade of red.

‘I think I’m going to get a refill, anyone else?’ Megan choked, standing up.

‘There’s an ice bucket in the garage, love, why don’t you fill it up and bring it in here, save all the moving around?’

‘I’ll help you.’ Lucas followed her to the kitchen, and out down the steps into the garage. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘Should have brought a coat. And shoes,’ she mumbled as she walked down the stairs on tiptoe, pulling the light switch, which illuminated a single bulb in the middle of the room.

‘I can solve that problem!’ Lucas laughed, sweeping her up into his arms, until she had her arms around his neck in panic.

‘What the bloody hell did you do that for? You scared the shit out of me!’ she laughed against his chest.

‘I was trying to protect your delicate toes from getting frostbite.’

‘Well, thank you very much, White Knight that you are. But I’m trying to find the ice bucket.’

‘Megan? It’s Christmas. And these are the only moments alone we’re going to get,’ Lucas pointed out, and something about the softness of his voice made her stomach drop. She was meant to be pushing him away, preparing to leave, getting ready to go back to her old life, except with the added stress of an ill Anna who needed taking care of.

But somehow his lips found hers and she clung to him, desperately craving him, winding her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, making mewling noises into his mouth.

‘Put me down,’ she breathed, and he did instantly, a look of worry on his face.

‘Did I do some—’

‘No,’ she said, reaching up to him, pulling him closer by the belt loops in his jeans, sighing with relief as he put his arms around her, resting on her waist. She was encased, safe and warm as he dropped small, delicate kisses against her mouth, waiting for her to push further. She did, licking at his bottom lip, her hands grasping for him. It never used to be like this, it never used to be desperate and needed and necessary. Their kisses had been slow and languorous, exploratory. Now it felt like she’d burst if he didn’t touch her. She slowed him down, putting her hands on his chest, breathing deeply.

‘Merry fucking Christmas indeed,’ he breathed, touching her cheek tenderly. ‘Nope, definitely not an angel.’

‘Told ya.’ She stuck out her tongue. ‘Can we find this frigging ice bucket and go inside now?’

‘Oh, were you actually looking? I thought it was all a cunning plan to get into my pants.’ He put an arm around her.

‘You followed
me!
’

‘Yeah yeah,’ he laughed, taking her hand and pointing with the other, ‘here, look, ice bucket.’

Lucas led her back up the stairs and into the kitchen, still holding her hand. Skye looked up as they came into the living room, eyebrow raised at the sight of her mother holding hands with someone, even if it was Trouble.

‘Shall we give Mum her present now?’ she asked Lucas, eager and ready to go.

‘Sure, if that’s all right with everyone?’ He looked around the room, and the only person who looked nervous was Megan. ‘Go grab your guitar then, Skye.’

She thundered up the stairs to grab the red fender, and when she returned, Lucas had unpacked a mini amp which he put on the floor, and plugged both his and Skye’s guitars into it. He adjusted her strap, was talking to her quietly and confidently, kneeling on the floor with his guitar over one knee whilst she stood to the side in a power stance.

‘You ready?’ he asked her, and then in a pitch-perfect Elvis impersonation, his nose turned up, he said, ‘This song goes out to a very special little lady in the audience. Merry Christmas, Mumma.’

Skye giggled, and there were various chortles around the room. Megan rolled her eyes.

The two of them launched into a sweet rendition of ‘Lonely This Christmas’, complete with ‘bom bom boms’ and ‘oohs’ from Skye. Lucas had stopped his impersonation, and was just singing as himself, looking to Skye to join as they got to the chorus.

Watching him smile at her daughter made her heart hurt, as they serenaded her together. Why couldn’t it be like this? Why did she have to deny everything? Why couldn’t she let him help her this time around? Heather was sneaking looks at her, and Megan was sure her mother was thinking the same thing.

They reached the end, both throwing their heads back as they held the note at the end, ‘thiiiis chriiiiistmaaaaas’, with Skye ending with a few ‘aaahs’ and very delicately finger-picking the ending slow tune of ‘Jingle Bells’. They looked at each other, looked at their audience and bowed.

The small crowd in the living room went wild, clapping and whooping, and Megan just sat there frozen with how lovely this scene was, overcome with the regret. If she had said yes to Lucas all those years ago, maybe this would have been her life. But it was too late to worry about all that.

‘That was the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for,’ she smiled, wiping at her eyes, ‘thank you so much, both of you.’

‘That’s not the whole present,’ Skye said proudly, nudging Lucas, ‘go on, give it to her.’

He shuffled forward, still on his knees, smiling up at her.

‘I don’t know if you remember this, Megs, it was a long time ago, but I always planned to give it to you, and I never got the chance. And now you’re here, and I’m so grateful.’ He reached into his pocket and brought out a small brown box.

Please let it be earrings,
she thought desperately,
please please don’t make this big awful gesture of love when I’m leaving. Please.

Lucas clicked open the box, and of course, there was a ring inside. It was vintage, silver art deco with a square setting, with tiny little diamonds around the main one, and lines etched into the ring itself. It looked ancient and magical. Anna would have loved the ‘Gatsby’ of it.

Heather gasped and clapped her hands, Claudia raised an eyebrow at the ring in appreciation, and Skye just stood there, looking so happy at the whole spectacle. This was what she wanted. She wanted Lucas to be her dad. And he wanted to be. And Megan was the only one causing any problems in this situation.

Did she love Lucas? Sure, in that first love, always sort of way. She was attracted to him, sure, and she loved kissing him, loved being near him. But it had been ten years. And then it had been ten days.

‘Don’t freak out, it doesn’t mean what you think it means.’

Lucas was grinning, looking up at her like she was taking everything too seriously.

‘Oh?’