Emily watched Jessie telling the story of Dave tying Joe up in the skipping-rope lead. Her pretty, pale-blue eyes sparkled as she re-enacted the scene, her glossy dark hair bouncing around her shoulders. Jessie looked like her mother; Emily knew this from the many photographs she’d seen in Zach’s house.She must be a constant reminder to him of Melissa, she thought. A little mini-Melissa keeping his wife’s image alive.
Emily didn’t like to consider how Jessie would feel about having to share her father. It would be exceptionally hardfor her. It had just been the two of them for the last five years. A new sibling often had a big impact on a child.
And how would Zach feel about being a father again? He’d never mentioned wanting more children. Did that mean he didn’t? She’d not steered the conversation in that direction. It had never been something either of them had brought up for discussion. Although just because she hadn’t raised the subject, it didn’t mean she didn’t want to be a mother some day; it just hadn’t been near the top of her priority list. Right now, though, it was the only thing on her list, written in red and underlined many times.
They had all been rubbing along quite happy with how things were. But now the carefully woven patchwork of their life had a loose thread. Emily feared the whole thing was going to unravel, like a cheap cardigan.
Lottie had gone rigid as she watched Megan hug Joe again. A klaxon was going off in her head. She coughed quietly and Joe’s head snapped around. ‘We’re going to go and start playing the stocking game.’ She knew it sounded ridiculous, but she didn’t know what was going on, so carrying on as normal – well, normal for the Collins family – seemed like the best course of action. ‘It’s a Boxing Day tradition,’ she explained, although she probably didn’t need to. Megan was scrunching up her pretty features. Lottie wasn’t sure whether that was due to confusion over what the stocking game was or at the way Lottie was staring.
Megan let go of Joe and strode over to Lottie with such gusto that Lottie took a step back. Megan came to a halt in front of her. ‘That was so rude of me,’ said Megan, placing both hands on her own chest. ‘I’m Megan.’
Lottie didn’t like to say,‘Yes, I’d gathered what your name was, but what the hell are you doing here hugging my Joe?’so she said, ‘I’m Lottie,’ and offered her hand to shake. She was hardly going to hug the woman.
Megan’s hands sprang up. Lottie winced in case she was going to hit her. ‘Oh, I’ve heard so much about you. All the crazy things you and Joey got up to as little kids. It is a delight to finally meet you.’ She flung her arms around Lottie and squeezed her far tighter than was necessary. Lottie glanced through Megan’s elaborate fur collar at Joe, who was rubbing his chin, the way he did when something was bothering him. Good – at least he had the decency to look unsettled.
‘That’s nice,’ said Lottie, disentangling herself and adjusting her hair clip.
Angie stepped forward. ‘I’m Angie. Has anyone ever told you that you are the spitting image of Meghan Markle?’
‘Now aren’t you the sweetest?’ said Megan, kissing her cheek. ‘I love your home,’ she said, waving an arm around. ‘It’s so cute and British. Just like Joey.’ She turned to gaze coyly at an uncomfortable-looking Joe.
‘And how do you know Joe exactly?’ asked Lottie. There, she’d said it. She’d taken the bull by the horns and draped it in fairy lights.
‘Why, Joey’s my partner.’ Megan said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Lottie felt as if the ceiling had fallen in on her. ‘Shocked’ didn’t cover it. She looked to Joe, but he was staring at the floor. She had forgotten to take a breath when she needed it, and now she quickly breathed in, making an over-dramatic gasping noise. Really not the calm reaction she had wanted to convey.
‘Oh, how lovely,’ said Angie, clapping her hands together. Lottie wanted to slap her with one of the ham sandwiches. ‘Are you moving to England too?’
Lottie froze. She knew she was staring wide-eyed at Megan but she couldn’t help it. First Joe had upended her world on Christmas Eve and now, two days later, this woman had materialised and spun her back to front. It was like some weird form of extreme zorbing. Megan sauntered over to Joe and ran a fingertip seductively along his jawline. Joe had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘That depends on whether or not he’ll have me,’ she said, her voice almost a purr.
Lottie’s stomach turned over. She felt sick and humiliated. She wanted to escape the excruciating situation. She could hear Nana’s voice in her head: ‘You’re stronger than you know, Lottie. Be brave.’ She decided to pull herself together. She straightened her back and slapped a smile on her face. ‘Right. That is lovely,’ she said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth like she’d bitten into a bad nut, ‘I expect you’ll be off to … to, um … catch up with each other.’ Lottie had to wipe her mind of thoughts of what they might really be off to do. Imagining Joe and Megan in bed together wasn’t going to help her already battered ego. ‘So while you two do … that, we’ll be off to play the stocking game.’ She began nudging her mother in the direction of the drawing room.
Megan did something akin to jazz hands whilst bobbing up and down on her heels. ‘That sounds like so much fun. Can I join in?’ she asked, taking off her expensive coat and handing it to Joe. Joe and Lottie shared the same bemused expression.
‘We’d love you to,’ said Angie, flashing a scornful look at Lottie and showing Megan through to the drawing room.
The house seemed to be getting chillier. Only Lottie and Joe remained, standing at either end of the hallway. Lottie wrapped her arms protectively around herself. She stared at Joe. Hurt and anger vied for attention inside her. How the hell had he failed to mention that he had a girlfriend? In fact, Megan had referred to him as her ‘partner’ – that sounded even more serious than boyfriend and girlfriend.
A few short hours ago, she’d shared the most tender of kisses with Joe, and it had felt so right. She’d thought their kiss had meant something – but clearly only to her. Perhaps it was just nostalgia. She’d read somewhere that nostalgia literally meant ‘homecoming pain’ – how fitting that seemed now. All the old hurt had returned in truckloads.
Joe opened his mouth and she held up her palm to stop him. ‘No, Joe. I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Not ever.’ And she strode with purpose into the drawing room.
She could almost read the questions on everyone’s faces when she entered the room behind Megan and her mother.
‘This is Megan,’ said Angie, her eyebrows dancing as she left a pause before adding. ‘She’s Joe’s American girlfriend.’ Lottie could feel her cheeks flush, but she had no idea why. Nobody knew about the kiss, thank goodness. She had nothing to feel embarrassed about. She’d had no idea that he’d had a girlfriend, or there was no way on earth she would have kissed him. She knew too well what it was like to be cheated on. It hurt her afresh that Joe had been so casual about kissing her when all the while he was in a relationship with Megan.
Zach was frowning hard and looking to Lottie for an explanation. She gave the tiniest of shrugs. At least Meganappeared to be news to him too. When Joe didn’t follow her into the drawing room, Lottie closed the door behind her.
Scott was first on his feet. ‘Hi Megan, I’m Scott,’ he said, offering her his vacated seat and his usual broad smile.
‘Scott’s my partner,’ said Angie, proudly popping up from behind Megan.
A round of introductions followed as Megan sat down.
‘I love your accent,’ said Emily. There were nods of agreement.
‘Whereabouts in America are you from?’ asked Angie. ‘Lottie thought Texas.’
