whether she was denying him the chance to have an amazing daughter, if she was being unfair. Perhaps he’d spent the last ten years thinking about her, about this mystery kid he had off somewhere, if he’d even done the maths on her disappearance. Maybe he hadn’t even worked it out. She knew, if she’d been a grown-up, she would have got in touch with him, let him decide whether he wanted to be a part of their lives. But she just didn’t want him to. It was her and Skye against the world, and she didn’t want to share.
‘I get it Mum, I do…’ Skye trailed off. ‘Does he live here, though?’
‘He used to. I don’t know where he is now, love. I’m sorry.’
A male voice suddenly asked, ‘Where who is?’, and there was Lucas, smiling at them, guitar in a case slung across his back.
‘No one,’ Megan said, at the same time that Skye said ‘My dad.’
‘Well, that’s a question I’m quite interested in as well,’ Lucas said, looking at Megan.
‘You’re interested in everything to do with my mum, aren’t you, Troublemaker?’ Skye said pointedly.
‘Troublemaker?’ Lucas pointed at himself. ‘Me? All I do is try to keep out of trouble!’
‘You seemed to be causing it the other day,’ Skye said, eyebrows raised.
‘You’re in town ten minutes and your kid has me analysed. You sure you never talked about me?’ Lucas laughed at Megan, then turned to Skye. ‘I never mean to cause trouble, Skye, but I do tend to do that. That’s why I live by myself on the edge of the village, and try not to ruin anyone’s day.’
He paused, blue eyes seeking hers out, taken aback by how much like Megan’s they were. ‘I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble.’
‘Not yet,’ Skye said, but Megan could tell she was softening, because she was swaying side to side, her hands twisted behind her back.
‘I liked your playing,’ she said suddenly, ‘Mum did too.’
‘Did she?’ Lucas sent a look her way.
‘She liked the wild one. I prefer Elvis.’ Skye held her head high, waiting for derision.
‘A fan of the King, huh? How did you end up with a kid with good taste, Megs? Yours was always terrible.’
Megan rolled her eyes. ‘We disagreed about The Smashing Pumpkins. Give me a break, would you?’
‘You changed your mind?’
‘Nope.’
‘Then no breaks for you. How about you, Skye, can you see the light where your mother has failed?’
Skye shrugged. ‘Dunno. Never heard them.’
‘I’ll make you a mix CD,’ Lucas said determinedly. ‘Does Jeremy have good taste in music?’
‘Well…he really likes Gloria Gaynor,’ Skye said thoughtfully, ‘and Dolly Parton.’
‘And Britney Spears,’ Megan added, watching Lucas, waiting for him to get it.
‘He does a really great routine to Tina Turner, too,’ Skye added.
Lucas’ mouth made a small ‘o’ and he gave Megan a significant look. She nodded, small smile in place. ‘Riiight, well, variety is important.’
‘And Anna loves songs from musicals.’ Skye jumped up, pulling on Megan’s hand. ‘Can we go look at the grotto thing?’
‘Sure,’ Megan shrugged, getting up.
‘Would you like to come too, Trouble?’ Skye asked shyly, offering her hand. Megan rolled her eyes. The Lucas Bright effect.
Lucas grinned and took it. ‘I would be honoured, Inspector Skye.’
‘It’s just Skye,’ she said, and led the way, the two adults laughing over her head.
The grotto was an institution – it got grander every year. This year it seemed to be a maze of huge trees, each decorated with glittery snow, leading around to the Santa’s House in the middle, a huge gingerbread-style house. They wandered through slowly, the sound of Christmas music tinkling gently from the speakers, the smell of pine and snow making them cheery. Megan watched her daughter carefully. Skye was holding Lucas’ hand; why was she doing that? Was it just that she liked him? She was pretty sure he was a troublemaker up until a few moments ago. Was she playing one of her detective games, keeping him close until she figured it all out? Or was it simply that he’d won her over with his love of Elvis? Megan had to admit, it was hard to guess when your daughter was sort of an evil genius. Or just a genius. She usually used her powers for good. Like figuring out who ate the last biscuit.
‘So Trouble, what are you doing for Christmas?’ Skye asked, staring at the trees with interest.
‘Hun, his name is Lucas,’ Megan said with irritation.
‘It’s fine. I quite like it,’ Luke said, ‘it’s appropriate. This Christmas I will be watching lots of rubbish TV and excellent movies, eating pancakes for breakfast, and Chinese takeaway for lunch, and drinking champagne all day. It’s going to be wonderful!’
‘Who with?’ Skye asked.
Yeah, who with? Megan thought.
‘Just me. My mum’s off in Spain, and my sister’s off in some far-flung place, and…well, I’m taking a Christmas off this year.’
‘That’s sad,’ Skye said. ‘Do you not have presents then?’
‘I’ve got a couple, and I bought myself a few. I’m looking forward to it,’ he shrugged.
‘I guess we’re taking the Christmas off too. This isn’t what we usually do,’ Skye informed him.
‘I gathered. What’s your usual Christmas like?’
‘Well, me and Mum will wake up early and I’ll go 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
