The rest of Saturday was pretty quiet. Feeling pretty shellshocked after all the craziness, I didn’t want to go out again, just pottered around the house.
On Sunday morning we woke up to lashing rain. Mum and I stayed in our pyjamas and curled up on the couch to watch TV, glad we didn’t need to go outside. Mum put on Strictly Come Dancing, which we’d recorded the night before because I was too tired to stay up after the sleepover. It’s our favourite programme to watch together – we each have our favourite stars and we give everyone marks on their performance and try to guess what the judges will say.
‘That’s got to be the best dance so far,’ Mum said, as a guy from a boy band hugged his partner after they finished their jive.
‘Oh, no!’ I said. ‘It wasn’t as good as the rhumba by that TV chef. And the weather lady’s cha-cha-cha was even better!’
‘No way!’ said Mum. ‘Look at the hip action! Divine, darling. Ah, if I was twenty years younger …’
‘Mum!’ I protested. ‘Gross!’
Just then we heard a rustling noise outside and the sound of a key being put in the door.
I looked at Mum. ‘Are you expecting Sadie?’
‘No.’ Mum threw aside the blanket she had wrapped around her, got up and went to the sitting room door. I followed her.
Dad was standing in the hall, rain dripping off his light jacket, his wet hair matted to his head. He held out his arms. ‘My two favourite girls!’
I held back a little, fully expecting Mum to start shouting again. But instead she ran to him and threw herself into his arms, crying ‘Doug darling!’ and not seeming to care in the least that her pyjamas were getting all wet. Dad held her tight and kissed her hair and her face and murmured into her ear while she clung onto him.
At last the two of them seemed to remember that I was there too. ‘Meg, come and give your old man a hug,’ Dad said, holding out one arm to me while still holding tight to Mum with the other.
I hesitated a moment, but then moved in, letting Dad put his arm around me too.
‘I’m so sorry, Meg,’ Dad said into my hair. ‘I’m sorry, Cordelia. I never meant for you to find out the way you did. I felt terrible when I got your phone call yesterday. After you hung up I booked the first flight home that I could get.’
‘That’s so romantic,’ Mum breathed.
I rolled my eyes. Yesterday she had been ready to kill him – and now this. The two of them were like a pair of teenagers sometimes.
‘How about we go out for a nice brunch, and I’ll explain everything to you?’ Dad suggested, letting go of us at last to take off his wet jacket. ‘Isn’t there a diner just up the road?’
‘Good idea,’ Mum said. ‘Meg, why don’t you run upstairs and get dressed, darling.’
‘Fine.’ I stomped off upstairs. Mum might be ready to forgive and forget – but I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
* * *
Over pancakes in the Rainbow Diner, Dad explained (or tried to) why the film was coming out so soon. The producer had had a change of heart and decided it would do better in the autumn, so it had been a huge rush for everyone involved to get the film ready for release.
‘I’ve known for a while now that it would be an autumn release instead of a spring one,’ he admitted. ‘But I thought we were talking November – just in time for the Christmas market, you know?’
‘November would have been so much better,’ Mum sighed. ‘Meg would have had two whole months in her new school as just Meg. Now she’s barely had two weeks, and she has to face the attention of being a film star!’
‘I know,’ Dad said, squeezing my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Meg. But it was out of my hands.’
‘And to find out like this!’ Mum went on. I was glad to see she’d rediscovered a little bit of her irritation at least. ‘Walking through a shopping centre with her friends and suddenly seeing herself on a great big poster! And Sadie telling me about it after she saw it in the newspaper! Really, Doug, what were you thinking?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Dad said again. ‘I did try to tell you last week on the phone, but you might remember you hung up on me.’ He tried his famous puppy-dog expression on Mum, but she was having none of it.
‘Don’t even think about trying to turn this on me!’ she said. ‘You could have tried a bit harder! Anyway, that was days ago! You had plenty of opportunities since then.’
‘I know,’ Dad said, spreading his hands out with an air of resignation. ‘I guess I just stuck my head in the sand and hoped it would all go away.’
‘Typical,’ Mum said, but her voice was a bit softer now.
Dad took her hand in his. Mum’s hand looked so small in his big ones.
‘We’re here now, so let’s try to make the best of it, will we?’ he said, his voice pleading. ‘It’s all happening sooner than we would have liked – but we always knew it was going to happen. Our Meg was always destined to be a shining star in the acting world.’
They both turned and smiled at me, and even though I was trying to stay cross I couldn’t help smiling too.
‘And besides, this is a good thing!’ Dad said, seeming to grow in confidence, now that it looked like we were prepared to forgive him. ‘Now everyone will get the chance to see how wonderful you are, Meg! You’ll have the critics eating out of your hand.’
‘I can’t wait to see it on the big screen!’ Mum said. ‘I wonder if my hair looks all right.’
‘Well, that’s my other bit of news,’ Dad said. ‘You won’t have to wait to see it on the big screen. The premiere is scheduled for Thursday, and I have the precious golden tickets for us to attend!’
Thursday! That was the day before our Cinderella performance. I’d have to have everything organised for the next morning before we went, I thought to myself.
‘Ooh, fabulous!’ Mum said. ‘We’ll have to go shopping. I’ve got absolutely nothing to wear.’
‘Why don’t you take Meg shopping now …’ Dad said, ‘and I’ll go home and book our flights.’
‘Flights?’ I asked.
‘Yes, didn’t I mention?’ Dad said. ‘The premiere is in LA.’