Megan finished applying her make-up.
‘Good?’
‘Really good. You could sing with Jeremy on stage!’ Skye patted her shoulder and ran off to return to the chess board.
With the fear that her daughter thought she looked like a drag queen, Megan pulled on her coat, and walked down the hill to the Nag’s Head, the oldest pub in town. It was pretty much the same inside, warm and comforting, with the fire burning away in the corner, Pluto the black labrador still dozing in front of it at all times. He’d been an excitable puppy the last time she’d been here, chewing on her mic cord and eventually falling asleep on the speaker.
‘Megan!’ Estelle waved from one of the sofas at the back, two drinks sitting in front of her. The stage area was clear, so Megan walked across it, trying not to think about how wonderful it had been to sing there, to feel like a real rock and roll star, playing to a bunch of uninterested retirees and drunk teenagers.
‘I got the drinks in – felt a Pina Colada is fairly inoffensive,’ Estelle gestured, ‘although it tastes less like a Pina Colada and more like someone threw a bunch of rum into some pineapple juice, but I’m not complaining. How are you?’
Megan shrugged. ‘I’m good, I guess. We live in Highgate with my aunt Anna, me and Skye that is, my daughter…’ Megan shook her head, ‘which you knew, obviously.’
‘You ever go off to do that English degree?’
‘Actually, I did a degree part time.’ Megan sipped her drink and shuddered at the sweetness, feeling the alcohol seep into her system. ‘I’m a speech and language therapist now. I work with deaf kids, and children with speech impediments, that kind of stuff.’
Estelle grinned. ‘That seems…so perfect for you. Is this the first time you’ve been back? I’ve been away the last couple of Christmases, so we could have just missed each other…’
‘First time back.’ Megan widened her eyes. ‘And it’s awkward and weird, and I will probably need a good few more of these disgusting cocktails whilst I’m here.’
Estelle snorted into her drink, then raised her glass. ‘To Megan, the returning warrior. Missed you, darlin’.’
They clinked glasses, and Megan felt the familiarity settle around her. Estelle had been a strange one. She’d always looked up to her in school, and then off she went to university, and Megan was sure she’d be famous. Snapped up by a modelling agency, become an actress, or a famous painter or something. Despite the fact that she never actually seemed to do anything artistic. And then she returned a couple of years later to be the school librarian, no questions asked.
‘You still the librarian?’ Megan asked suddenly, then thought it sounded rude, as if she was diminishing Estelle’s life in this small town.
‘Archivist, thank you. I am, but I’m also an English teacher now, if you can believe it.’ Estelle rolled her eyes. ‘I go off to study biomedical science, and end up an English teacher. Go figure.’
‘You like it?’
‘I…I like the students. Most of the time. And I like books, and analysis and when one of the kids comes out with something fantastic,’ Estelle nodded, ‘but then there’s the ones who have been studying Of Mice and Men all year and are still calling it a play, or made it all the way through The Tempest thinking Ariel is the girl mermaid from Disney. It’s…painful.’
‘So why stay?’
Estelle shrugged, delicately adjusting an eyelash. ‘The staff are nice to work with, and I moved back to look after my mum, so it made sense to have something local.’
Megan nodded, the sudden reappearance making sense now. No one could understand why a girl like Estelle would stay in a town like that. She could be anywhere, doing anything.
‘But she passed away a couple of years ago, so I don’t really need to be here any more. Just habit, I guess,’ Estelle said casually, slurping up the last of her drink. ‘Another?’
‘I’ll get them.’ Megan jumped up. ‘Same again?’
‘Surprise me, I’m not fussy,’ Estelle smiled, as Megan walked to the bar. She sensed Estelle didn’t want to talk about her mother, which was fair enough, as no one had ever known that was why she came back. Or why she stayed. And Estelle had kept her secret all those years ago.
Tom the landlord sighed as she asked for two Cosmopolitans. ‘If I give you a bottle of wine for the same price, will you take it? I hate making those bloody things. All my wife’s idea.’
She took pity on him and agreed, and as she paid he looked at her, head tilted to the side.
‘Do I know you, love? You look awful familiar.’
‘I played in a band here a couple of times, but that was a lifetime ago,’ she relented, hoping that wasn’t enough to make him go ‘Oh, you’re Heather and John’s girl, the one who ran off with a bun in the oven.’ But no, he just nodded.
‘We’ve got a good lot on tonight, you know. A bunch of music teachers from the school started a band to relive their youth, sad bastards,’ Tom chuckled to himself. ‘That said, they’re pretty good. Been playing here for years. Quite a following of young girls.’
‘Well. I’ll look forward to that,’ Megan grinned and made her way back to Estelle.
‘They’re still playing music here?’ she asked as she put the wine down, pouring the rosè into the two oversized glasses.
‘Always,’ Estelle grinned, ‘it ranges from the awful to the awesome. A couple of the Year Tens have started a band called The Illusionists. They keep trying to pull scarves out of their guitars whilst they play. It’s awful. They might play tonight and we can boo them!’ She paused. ‘Nothing quite lives up to Megan and the Boys though.’
‘You knew about that?’
‘I was a fan. Came to every gig you guys played here. Your little one got the musical talent?’ Estelle looked at something over Megan’s shoulder, briefly alarmed, and then returned her gaze to Megan.
‘No idea. She’s more interested in becoming a secret detective. Which I worry about because it means she’s terribly good at lying when she wants to. Luckily she’s too moral to use it on me. Seems to be working well at getting extra slices of cake from her grandparents though,’ she shrugged.
They talked about Skye for a little more, and about the school, the changes in the town over the last few years, until the microphone buzzed, and Tom was there, addressing the crowd, looking up at them in the back of the room.
‘Well, unfortunately, our Friday regulars Cludbucket couldn’t perform tonight, probably due to some sort of rock and roll reason, like hangovers, or the clap’ – here the audience hooted and laughed – ‘but they’re rubbish anyway. I’m pleased to present the Nag’s Head’s favourite band…No Education!’
The crowd cheered, teenage girls scooted to the front, but Estelle grabbed her hand. ‘Megan, I’m sorry, they weren’t supposed to be on tonight.’
Megan turned to her, laughing. ‘Don’t worry about it, if they’re better than Cludbucket,
