Love At Christmas, Actually. Jenny Oliver

Love At Christmas, Actually - Jenny Oliver


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into her room, and we’ll cuddle up in our beds and open our stockings. Then we’ll go downstairs and look at the tree, all lit up and lovely. Mum will put the champagne for Anna on ice, and I get elderflower fizz, and we put the bacon in the oven, until Anna and Jeremy are woken up by the smell. Then we do breakfast.’ Skye paused. ‘Wow, we do a lot, don’t we?’

      ‘Sounds busy,’ Lucas added, ‘and lovely.’

      ‘It really is,’ Megan smiled. ‘Anna’s my aunt. We went to live with her when Skye was a baby.’ She was missing stuff out, Lucas was sure. He’d only heard about Anna in passing. Anna was on the outs herself, as far as he knew. He remembered Megan talking about her mother having an argument with Anna years ago. If it was the same Anna. Their life was a bit of a mystery. Which was what happened when someone didn’t talk to you for ten years.

      They stopped when they got to the middle of the grotto, where the gingerbread house sat, squat and proud. A couple of morose teenage elves in green lycra looked at Skye. ‘Did you want to see Santa?’

      Skye shrugged, clearly torn.

      ‘Go, baby. Here.’ Megan handed her two pounds from her purse to give to the elf, who sighed, clearly hoping for a break.

      ‘I don’t really want to see Santa,’ Skye said defiantly, ‘I just want to see what the inside of the gingerbread house looks like.’ She strutted off, which Megan knew meant she was nervous. She couldn’t figure out why, but she guessed they’d been having some pretty big conversations, and Skye, whilst being unlike every other eleven-year-old usually, probably needed some time to process things too.

      Lucas watched her go. ‘That kid of yours…’ He shook his head, turning to look at her. ‘How lucky are you? She’s wonderful.’

      ‘I tried my best. She makes it easy though,’ Megan shrugged, ‘for now. I’m sure she’s going to have to cause trouble as a teenager or something.’

      ‘Speaking of Trouble…’ he grinned, the dimple within his smile appearing again.

      ‘I am so sorry, I have no idea where she got that from.’

      ‘Because she’s not an idiot. I turn up, and suddenly things get complicated. She’s a smart cookie. And she’s protecting you.’

      ‘She asked me if you were her dad,’ Megan said quickly, and then wished she hadn’t, watching Lucas’ face fall.

      ‘Maybe in another life, eh?’ he shrugged, trying to keep the smile in place.

      ***

      November 2004

       ‘I’m really glad you decided to come out,’ Joey said, hand stroking her arm through her cardigan. She was sitting on his lap at a house party where she knew no one. All she could think about was Belinda, all dressed up after college, declaring today the day she had her date with Lucas. And she knew she shouldn’t have cared. She knew she let Lucas go, but…Belinda? Of all people? He couldn’t have chosen someone…nice? There were loads of nice girls in their year who would have killed to be with him. Why did he have to pick her? Boys were so obvious.

       And so when Joey had asked her to come to some party, she’d put on her smile and her make-up, and gone with. She’d had a few beers, nothing crazy, but she’d loosened up. It was nice to sit with his arms around her, lean back against his strong chest, feel his breath against her neck. It was nice to be held. She missed Lucas so badly she could feel the tears welling up, so she did the only thing she could to stop them- she turned around and kissed Joey, soft but determined. After that it was dark bedrooms and awkward talks about protection, tangled underwear and not much else. Megan had felt distinctly separate whilst it was happening, like she didn’t have to be there at all, and she’d rather not. Afterwards she called a cab, and waited outside in the cold for it. Joey kissed her cheek and thanked her for an amazing night. She made it into the cab before she started to cry.

       Chapter Seven

      The holiday was becoming decidedly long. Megan tried to think of what they did at home, why it seemed to be taking ages for Christmas to arrive, for them to get it over and get back to their lives. At home they’d be fussing about with all of Anna’s plans for dinner. Occasionally that meant Megan figuring out how to cook the turkey, as she had one disastrous year when Skye was five, and almost burning the house down. Since then she’d stopped complaining when Anna spent a fortune on caterers for her holiday bash. Most of the time it was all about decorations. ‘More! More, darling, we’re going for spellbinding here!’ she’d say, champagne glass in hand whilst Megan and Skye were halfway up a ladder trying to hang more diamante icicles from the ceiling.

      One year she bought this huge frosted chandelier to hang in the foyer, the first thing you noticed when you walked it. It even outshone the tree. She had rented it for the season, but when January came she declared she couldn’t bear to let the sparkle leave, and paid a shameful amount to keep it up there. As far as Megan knew, Anna had never been particularly rich herself, though her acting career had been successful. But her husband, Richard, who Megan had no recollection of, beyond a couple of pictures when she was a baby, had made money and invested wisely. Anna was a strange one. Spending vast amounts on extravagant champagne, but having a lodger like Jeremy. Buying a chandelier, but using coupons when she found them in the paper. ‘Nothing lasts forever, darlings,’ she said, waving the coupons about, ‘might as well save on the stuff that doesn’t matter, and spend on the stuff that does.’

      Megan was curled up in the living room with a book, Skye leaning into her side, also reading. She stroked Skye’s hair gently, letting the smell of cinnamon, and the sound of Minnie’s snores as she lay by the fire, engulf her. It was comfortable. They weren’t bored, exactly, but it wasn’t home, and it wasn’t interesting enough to be a holiday.

      The doorbell rang and Skye jumped up immediately, eager to do something.

      ‘I’ll get it!’ she yelled, running to the front door. Megan followed slowly, sure it must be Matty, or more carol singers.

      They pulled open the door, and there was Lucas, carrying a large, messily wrapped present.

      ‘Hi!’ he waved, ‘I just wanted to drop this off for Skye.’

      ‘For me?’ Her eyes widened at the mystery gift.

      ‘Yeah, it’s yours. I’ve been looking after it for a while,’ he shrugged, looking at Megan, and suddenly she knew what it was. Her eyes watered and she smiled at him, grateful.

      ‘Come in for a coffee?’ she asked him, holding the door open wide. Skye looked between the two of them, wondering why her mother was so tearful around this guy all the time. He hadn’t done anything bad, as far as she could tell. And he’d bought her a present.

      Lucas nodded and walked in, laying the box on the sofa, and gesturing to Skye. She narrowed her eyes. ‘If I accept this do I have to stop calling you Trouble?’

      ‘Darling, you can call me anything you like. Trouble is pretty appropriate,’ Lucas shrugged. ‘Open it.’

      ‘Now? I thought it was a Christmas present?’ Skye looked to her mother uncertainly.

      Megan nodded. ‘It’ll be good to have something to keep you occupied until Christmas, won’t it? Go ahead.’

      Skye didn’t need to be told twice, launching herself at the wrapping paper.

      ‘This is really good of you,’ Megan said quietly to Lucas as they watched Skye tear the wrapping apart.

      ‘It was never mine to keep. Your parents let me keep it, or they forgot about it, I don’t know. It made me feel closer to you.’ He kept his eyes straight ahead, focused on Skye. ‘But here you are. Don’t need it any more.’

      Megan wasn’t quite sure how to take that, whether it was a sign of connection, or a sign


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