his hands together, then ran off with her daughter, as she dragged him along. That left her slowly walking with her mother.
‘He’s so excited she’s here,’ Heather said by her side, neither taking their eyes away from the pair.
‘She’s so like him. Inquisitive, always wanting an answer. Everything always has to make sense.’ Megan smiled into the distance, thinking of how many answers she had never had for her daughter. Her smile dimmed a little.
‘That must be exhausting.’
‘It’s kind of a thrill.’
‘I…’ Her mother paused. ‘I’m really excited you’re here too. Both of you.’
‘Good.’ She still couldn’t quite bear to have this conversation face to face with her mother, instead of adjacent. She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment still sitting in her eyes. ‘At some point we’re going to have to have it all out. You know that, right?’
‘I know,’ her mother said quietly, ‘but it’s nice to pretend until then.’
They day passed pleasantly enough, playing the games, hearing the music. Megan, true to her word, bought Skye both a hot chocolate and a gingerbread cookie. As they were leaving to walk back up the hill, infused with the joyousness of the event, the smell of hot apple cider and the twinkle of the bells on the baby reindeer’s collar as he walked about his pen, Megan was stopped by a hand on her arm.
‘Megan McAllister!’ a woman’s voice called out, and all she could think was please don’t be Belinda. Please. More than that, please don’t be Belinda married to Lucas with hundreds of awful babies. Please, that’s all I’m asking.
She turned around and was faced with the excited bundle of energy that was Estelle Williams. Estelle had been a bit of a dark horse, in that she’d been the librarian at school when Megan was studying, despite only being twenty-three herself. She’d disappeared off to uni, and returned to their little town with a few piercings and tattoos, and a penchant for rockabilly. And became the school librarian. No one could figure out why she’d done it, or why they hired her. But she’d helped Megan with her university applications, and had shown her a ridiculous amount of kindness over the years.
‘Estelle! It’s so great to see you!’ She embraced her.
Estelle looked the same, her red hair in victory curls, her thick framed glasses perched on the end of her pierced nose. Her coat looked like it was straight from Little Red Riding hood, a fitted and flared number with big gold buttons and a black fur trim. She looked like Mrs Santa’s naughty younger sister.
‘I thought that was you, you’re back!’
‘Just for the holidays.’ She pointed over at Skye and her parents. ‘Wanted my little one to meet my parents.’
Estelle grabbed her hand, dark red lipstick curving into a genuine smile. ‘That is wonderful, darling, honestly. You can tell me all about it tomorrow when you meet me for drinks.’
‘I…um…’
Estelle raised a drawn-on eyebrow. ‘Your parents will want to spend time with their grandkid, right? Plus, the Nag’s Head have started doing cocktails. They’re vile but very cheap.’
‘Wow, aren’t we getting sophisticated out in the country?’ Megan laughed, but agreed to meet her at the pub the next night at seven.
When she rejoined Skye and her parents, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Estelle was going to have all sorts of gossip that she really didn’t want to know.
***
December 2004
‘Megan! What’s wrong?’ Estelle pulled out a pack of tissues from her Lulu Guinness bag, sliding them across the desk.
‘I’m…I’m…’ Megan was starting to hyperventilate, and Estelle flipped up the break in the desk to let her through, ushering her into the back room. She placed a ‘librarian on break’ sign on the desk, and followed her.
Megan sat in the swivel chair, head between her legs, alternating between gasping and crying. Her hair, dyed red, was starting to turn back to its natural brown, and she seemed to keep tugging at it in frustration. Estelle grabbed her hands.
‘Come on Megan, you’re scaring me a little. What’s up? I know you’re still waiting for the Cambridge letters, but….’
‘Everything’s changed,’ she breathed, somehow attaining calm composure. She looked Estelle straight in the eye. ‘I’m pregnant.’ It was the first time she’d said it out loud. First time she’d let herself think about it since throwing away the tests in the toilets in Euston station. And of course, she decides to break down at college, in the library.
Estelle’s eyebrows raised only for a second, before she vocalised exactly how Megan felt about it all, ‘Well, shit.’
They sat in silence for a moment, Megan swinging her legs against the scratchy blue material.
‘Is it Lucas’?’
‘No.’
‘Oh…double shit,’ Estelle sighed. ‘Times like this one really wants a cigarette.’
‘Or tequila,’ Megan agreed.
‘So…have you considered your options?’
‘I know I should get rid of…it,’ Megan started. ‘I spent all that time campaigning for the sexual health clinic as part of the GP, and I did that debate where I argued Pro-choice…God, when people find out that I’m a hypocrite…’
‘Woah, not a hypocrite!’ Estelle grabbed her hand. ‘Fighting for rights doesn’t mean you have to make that decision. You believe in choice, remember?’
‘Yeah,’ Megan said hopelessly, ‘I don’t even know why. I know it’s going to screw up my life. Uni will be gone. Lucas and leaving this place…all of it up in smoke with one wiggle of my cervix.’
‘Try long periods of excruciating pain,’ Estelle corrected.
‘And that was just the conception.’
Estelle smiled. ‘See, making jokes. Already we’re getting somewhere.’
‘Everything’s going to change,’ Megan said, feeling the tears well up again.
‘Babe, it already has,’ Estelle told her, and handed her another pack of tissues.
***
Megan had made an effort that night, styled her hair so it sat softly on her shoulders, curling at the ends. She’d put on her black velvet dress, the one she’d bought to wear on Christmas Day, it being tradition in the McAllister household to get dressed up for the big event. But she could always
