Love At Christmas, Actually. Jenny Oliver
from the dodgy heating in the car.
‘Mum?’ Skye prodded her. ‘Are we going in?’
Megan sighed deeply and looked at her daughter. She took in Skye’s dark hair, shiny and long, arranged neatly over her shoulder. Skye’s eyes, the same as hers, and her mother’s, and Matty’s, so light a brown that they might have been tiger’s eye stones, with flecks of gold and green. How could they not love her? It was impossible, right? It was impossible for her to bring them this smart, beautiful, kind-hearted, curious child, and for them to disregard her, wasn’t it? Megan shook her head, shuffled in her seat.
She started the car again, trundling up to the paved driveway, and delicately steered the car under the willow tree, somehow thinking it might lend the poor tree some strength, or at least stop it from falling too far to the ground.
Skye unbuckled and jumped out immediately, stretching, looking around the front garden with interest.
‘Mum,’ she stage-whispered as Megan tiredly opened the boot of the car, ‘are they really rich?’
Megan had no idea how to answer that. For all her daughter’s talk of socio-economic status, Megan was very careful with money, and didn’t spend it easily. That said, they lived in a beautiful house in Highgate with a rich Dame who drank Laurent Perrier like it was water. What was rich or poor really?
‘They…they work very hard to have nice things, bub. But maybe no questions like that to start with. Secret detective, not the kind at a murder scene, right?’
‘No interrogating,’ Sky nodded, thinking she’d save that for after they inevitably upset her mum and they had to drive back to Auntie Anna’s. Which was fine with her. As long as Disneyland was still on the table.
There was a soft mumbling sound behind her, and Skye turned to find a sad old collie, her head tilted as she watched her. The dog seemed to want to bark, but wasn’t really sure whether to be upset or not. So she whined a little, and sat in front of Skye, waiting.
‘Um…Mum?’ Skye pointed at the dog.
‘Minnie!’ Megan grinned, bending down towards the dog, who used what little energy she had to jump up, her suspicions confirmed. She barked loudly and joyfully as Megan rubbed behind her white and black ears, hands lost in her fur.
‘Skye, this is Minnie, you don’t have to be scared.’
‘I’m not scared,’ Skye frowned, but stayed back all the same.
‘You sure?’
Suddenly a door opened, and a small lady was shouting, ‘Minnie, come on now!’ before she realised she had guests. ‘Oh. Oh!’
Somehow, the lady wasn’t what Skye had been expecting. She’d thought her grandmother would be more like Anna. In this posh house that called itself a cottage, wearing jewels and drinking champagne. This woman had on stretchy dark green trousers and a big knitted jumper with a reindeer on the front. She looked…well, she looked older, but in a different way to Anna. This woman looked warm and healthy, with her dark hair pinned up in a bun, with straggly bits around her face, and her glasses perched low on her nose.
‘Jonathan!’ the woman called, her voice wobbling, ‘they’re here!’ She walked out to greet them, her fluffy boot slippers surely getting wet on the ground. She seemed to stare at Skye a little too intensely, and Skye moved behind her mother, just a little. Detectives had to be safe, after all. She was just assessing the situation.
‘I’m sorry,’ the woman said, ‘we were trying to cook a turkey, as practice for the big day, and we forgot about it, and the stuffing went funny, and the fire alarm went off…’ She exhaled, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. She shook her head. ‘Not that any of that matters.’
The woman looked so anxious, her wide brown eyes just like her mum’s, that Skye felt sorry for her. She looked at Megan, who nodded, and walked over to the woman. She smiled her big white smile, the one she’d been perfecting in the mirror all week.
‘Hi!’ She stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Skye, you must be my grandmother.’
The woman half-laughed, and looked to Megan with a raised eyebrow. Megan looked back seriously, and nodded at her daughter, as if to say, ‘Well answer the girl then.’
‘I am! I am your grandmother, and I’m so pleased to finally meet you!’ Heather McAllister held Skye’s hands with both of her own, tears in her eyes. She shook her head. ‘Come on, come on. Leave the bags in the car, let’s have some cake. If I haven’t burnt that as well.’
Megan stayed put, her hand in Minnie’s fur, listening to the quiet, comfortable panting of her dear pet. It was sad to see her so old, hard of hearing and slow to move. But she was something to hold onto, something safe and steady going back into that house. Her mother looked different. Shockingly so. Her hair pinned up haphazardly, wearing comfy clothing, looking like a normal person instead of an ideal on a pedestal, so much better than ordinary people. Her mother had once told her that ‘comfort was for the weak’ and that making an impression was always the most important thing. Where was that woman now? Maybe things had really changed in ten years. Megan took a deep breath, held her head high, and crossed the threshold.
May 2001
‘Happy birthday, darling!’ Her mother actually sounded cheery, Megan noted, as she sat down to a birthday breakfast, balloons attached to her chair. Matty threw a barely wrapped package at her, grabbed a coffee and shuffled back up to his bed, like the surly teenager he was. She peeled off the remainder of the newspaper that he’d screwed it up in and found his old remote control car that she’d always loved. She always loved Matty’s presents the best. He seemed to know her, even if he didn’t do much but grunt at her.
‘Open your presents!’
Heather was too excited, but Megan didn’t mind. It was a Saturday, she only had to go to tennis lessons and then she didn’t have to do anything else for the day, and her parents had even said she could have some friends from school round to the house. They’d even, miraculously, said her friend Lucas could come, even though Heather didn’t approve of ‘that mutton dressed as lamb mother of his’. It was her special day, and she was allowed to have her friends. She’d ignored her mother’s comment that it might show those kids what a real upbringing looked like.
Megan delicately peeled back the Sellotape and uncurled the corners of her first present. A soft, square package. A T-shirt, she guessed. Yep. She pulled out the yellow top with ‘Cambridge University’ emblazoned on the front. She looked up to her mother’s eager face and tilted her head.
‘Do you like it? Isn’t it wonderful? A symbol of the bright path our little Megan is on!’ Heather squeezed her cheeks. ‘Open the others!’
Apart from Matty’s and her mysterious Auntie Anna’s present (a huge box of posh chocolates as always, and a pair of sparkling silver hoop earrings that seemed too grown up for her to own), every other present was Cambridge-themed. A mug, a calendar, a satchel bag. Apparently the theme was ‘happy birthday, we gave you life, now we’ve decided what you’re going to do with it.’
But everyone seemed so happy, so Megan just smiled and as the birthday cake with the university logo was brought in, she closed her eyes and wished for something that was hers.
***
The first meet and greet was a terrifying mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Megan sat in the kitchen, instinctively choosing the same seat she’d always sat at for dinner, and wondered if her mother noticed these things too. Luckily Skye was so excited she was talking ten to the dozen, and taking up most of the awkward silence with her enthusiasm. Which would have seemed natural if she hadn’t kept turning to Megan and giving her significant looks,