Love At Christmas, Actually: The Little Christmas Kitchen / Driving Home for Christmas / Winter's Fairytale. Jenny Oliver

of things. And I’d rather you didn’t now.’

      Megan paused, checking the door was closed. ‘Are you…are you dying?’

      ‘We’re all dying.’

      ‘Stop it. Stop that right now.’

      Anna sighed, her voice a little less affected. ‘Yes, I’m dying.’

      ‘And you sent us away?’

      ‘I wanted you to reconnect with your mother. It was my gift to her. To both of you. I’ve never been very good at fixing things, but I hoped that by relinquishing you, you’d start to put the past behind you.’

      Megan breathed deeply. This holiday had been one emotional beating after the other. She wondered if it was too late to find Belinda and wait for her to say something horrible, just so she could punch her.

      ‘You want us to move back here and start our life again with my parents?’ she asked.

      ‘God no, in that little village that doesn’t even have a theatre? What am I, a philistine? No darling, I’m leaving the house to you, you’ll come back here and live your life as you please, of course.’

      ‘That wasn’t what I meant, Anna.’ Megan felt the tears start in her chest, staggering and breathless.

      ‘I know, sweetheart. But look, no need to get yourself all worked up. We’ll talk tomorrow and you’ll come back in a couple of days and we’ll have some time to get it all worked out.’

      ‘You promise?’ Megan asked, wiping her eyes.

      There was a long pause, until a very quiet ‘yes’ came from Anna.

      ‘Okay, we’ll talk tomorrow.’

      ‘Sweetheart, I don’t think I need to even say that I don’t want everyone knowing about this?’ Anna’s strong voice returned, light but warning.

      ‘Who’s everyone?’

      ‘Anyone.’

      Megan shrugged. ‘You don’t think they’d want to know?’

      ‘I just want everyone to have a nice day. I’ll tell your mother on Boxing Day, promise.’

      Megan nodded, saying nothing.

      ‘I love you, darling, you’ve given me the most wonderful ten years. Made everything…made me myself again. No one could have done that but you. And Skye,’ Anna coughed, rarely one for expressing her emotions. Megan wanted to say something equally powerful, but anything she said now would feel like goodbye.

      ‘Love you, Anna,’ she said simply, ‘you’ve…you’ve done everything for us.’

      She hung up, with the terrible realisation that sometime soon she was going to have to tell Skye the truth.

       Chapter Twelve

      It felt strange to wake up in a different house on Christmas Day, and Megan had spent numerous Christmas Days there before, so she couldn’t imagine how Skye was feeling. She tapped on her old bedroom door gently, pushing the door open. Skye was sitting in the middle of the bed, duvet wrapped around her, holding her Christmas stocking. She grinned as Megan entered the room, and waved her stocking above her head like a trophy. Megan dragged her own in, and sat on the bed.

      ‘Share some of that duvet, would you? It’s freezing!’ She snuggled in next to her daughter, kissing her cheek. ‘Merry Christmas, poppet.’

      ‘Merry Christmas, Mum!’ Skye whispered back, then paused. ‘How do we do it this year? I bet Grandma and Granddad don’t have champagne for breakfast.’

      ‘Well, maybe we should introduce them to it, sharing traditions? I know Grandma went out and especially got you some elderflower fizzy, because you said you liked it.’