plans and careers and weddings. And when she opened up to Lucas he just wanted to shag and talk about the band.
‘Yes,’ she nodded, interlocking their fingers and holding up their joined hands, ‘we have something, but the band… I’m not just going to go running off into the sunset on a tour bus. This isn’t Almost Famous. It’s a hard slog, and I don’t want to be a musician.’
‘But you are one.’ Lucas squeezed her hand and turned on his side to face her. ‘Look, why does everything have to be so set? Finish college, play some gigs, do some teaching, see what happens?’
‘Because that’s how you lose years. That’s how you end up being Estelle, back in this stupid town and stuck here, because you haven’t planned for anything better,’ Megan snapped. ‘I don’t want to waste my life.’
‘How’s it wasted if we’re together?’ Lucas asked, watching her hand as he stroked it with his thumb, delicate circles.
‘I want to do something, I want to help people, or make a difference.’
‘How are you going to do that with an English Lit degree?’ Lucas raised an eyebrow.
Megan sighed. ‘I don’t know, but I know that I want to matter.’
‘You matter to me.’ That little sorry smile that said he knew he was being childish, and he accepted her no matter what. He knew she was destined for an academic world with boundaries and rules and order, because that was Megan. She did the Right Thing, all the time. But he just wasn’t like that.
‘You matter to me,’ she replied, kissing his chest and settling back down, counting down not only the hours before she had to be back home, but the hours until things changed for good.
Megan had phoned Jeremy that morning, eager for a catch up before Skye started demanding that she speak to Anna.
‘So what’s going on in Casa Anna?’ She curled up on her old bed, and it could have been any weeknight when she’d been on the phone to Lucas, or any of them. She rubbed the corner of her old blanket against her cheek.
‘The biddie army arrived yesterday, with food orders and demands about decorations. They’ve decided they want a Gatsby-themed Christmas. I’m sure most of them can remember the 1920s firsthand,’ he bitched. She could imagine him there, filing his nails, or putting on his make-up. Or maybe he was scratching away in his notebook, sitting with a glass of Sangria in the Ideas Cupboard.
‘How’s Anna finding all that?’
‘Loves it, as always. She’s been a bit more worn out though, sleeping in a lot more. I told her I’d take over things.’ She heard the grin in his voice.
‘Oh sweet Jesus, please don’t tell me you’ve replaced their Gatsby with drag chic?’
‘Just a few changes for my own amusement,’ he laughed, ‘like they’re even going to notice that the silver confetti is penis-shaped instead of diamonds. Really. Half of them can’t see themselves in a mirror. Which explains the eyeliner.’
‘Don’t be mean!’
‘I’m not! I’m thinking of starting a biddie make-up service. When your hands start to shake and the liquid eyeliner goes everywhere – who ya gonna call? You know how many rich, proud old ladies are out there? I’d be rich!’
‘Yeah, but rich, proud ladies don’t tend to want a little bitch judging them about their make-up capabilities.’
‘They adore me, they don’t know I’m bitchy,’ Jeremy said pointedly, ‘plus most of them can’t hear much.’
‘Incorrigible.’
‘Exactly. So tell me more about being home?’
Megan paused, unsure of what to say, how to sum up this weird feeling of familiarity, with the sadness of loss. She loved being back, but it wasn’t home any more.
‘I bumped into Lucas.’
‘The Lucas?’
Megan sighed, ‘Uhuh.’
‘How’d it go?’
‘It was fine, after my brother punched him, and my father tried to do the same. Apparently he’s been letting them think he’s the father all these years. They’ve been randomly punching him for ages.’
‘That’s…insane. But also kind of sweet,’ Jeremy said. ‘Are the sparks still there?’
Megan swallowed, thinking of his fingers stroking the sleeve of her jumper, the way his eyes lit up when he tilted his head to the side and laughed. The way her chest seemed to throb just thinking about it. Shit.
‘Still there on my side. I doubt he’s interested in the girl who’s made him a target all these years. But he did invite me for coffee,’ she said with hope in her voice.
‘That sounds promising,’ Jeremy said.
‘Well, we were friends for a long time, he probably just wants to catch up. It’s natural to be curious about people’s lives.’
‘It’s natural to stay the heck away from everyone and not get involved,’ Jeremy corrected.
‘You’re a Londoner, you don’t understand.’
‘You’re a Londoner too now, love, you have been for years. Don’t be going back to the country and start saying hello to strangers on the street now, I may have to disown you.’
‘And a merry bloody Christmas to you too, Scrooge!’ she laughed, watching as her bedroom door squeaked open, and Skye poked her head in.
She pointed at the phone. ‘Is that Anna?’
Jeremy, Megan mouthed. Wanna say hi?
She handed the phone over, and said she’d be downstairs getting breakfast, whilst her daughter occupied the space she vacated. She watched for a moment. Her daughter would be a teenager before too long. She’d grow up, and go off to uni and get a career, start her own family. And where would Megan be? Back at Anna’s with Jeremy, getting wasted on G and Ts each night and wondering why she’d never made a relationship work. She smiled at her daughter and padded down the stairs.
Heather was dishing up pancakes. ‘That girl of yours can eat. Reminds me of Matty.’
‘It’s that big brain, needs a lot of feeding,’ Megan replied, sitting down and helping herself.
‘So…not so much like Matty,’ Heather quipped and they grinned at each other, the gaze fading into a sort of sadness as they realised how long it had been since they’d been relaxed.
‘I…I was wondering,’ Heather started, ‘if you and Skye would like
