The accident that changed Megan’s life happened on a lazy Sunday afternoon in late spring, 2010. Her parents had been on their way back to Sydney from a deceased estate sale in the lower Blue Mountains.

“Your father’s found a sale with old sheet music and vinyl records going back to the fifties.” Mum had sounded less than enthusiastic when she’d called that morning, but she always kept Dad company on his jaunts to whatever sale was going. “But I think there’s a Christmas artisan market at Faulconbridge today too, so it won’t be too boring.”

“Pick me up some creamed honey if you see some, please, Mum,” Megan had asked.

“I will, love.”

Megan still carried guilt brought on by the last words her mother ever spoke to her. “Dad said there’s something there that you’ll love, that’s why we’re going so far today. Consider it an early Christmas present. We’ll call in for a drink on the way home.”

“Stay for dinner too. Tony’s promised homemade pizzas tonight in the wood fire.” Megan lived in a granny flat underneath Kathy and Tony’s house. “And you know what a gourmet cook he is.” Megan remembered laughing about Kathy’s cooking skills. “Just as well, poor Kath can’t even boil water without setting the smoke alarm off.”

“We’ll be there for sure. See you later.” Mum had said.

But there was no later.

They’d held dinner off until nine o’clock waiting for them to arrive but neither she nor Kathy had been particularly worried. They’d even joked that Dad had treated Mum to a romantic night in the mountains. A niggle of concern had taken root when both of their phones had gone to voicemail when Kathy had called to see if they were still coming for dinner, but they assumed that they were either out of range or more likely had switched them off.

“Stupid technology,” Dad had grumbled. “If I want to talk to someone I’ll call them when I get home. I don’t need a phone on me all day long.”

Megan had gone back downstairs after they’d finished the pizza, and was about to go to bed when Kathy had come running down to her flat.

“Quick, put your television on. Oh, God, Megan. I saw their car. I’m sure it’s theirs.” Her face was white and her voice was shaking.

If it hadn’t been for the original vinyl copy of Davy Morgan’s last album that had been in the boot of Mum and Dad’s car—along with the promised jar of creamed honey Megan doubted if they would have travelled to the sale that day.

No matter how many times Kathy told her she wasn’t to blame, Megan carried the guilt that if it hadn’t been for that album, and her obsession with collecting seventies memorabilia—especially anything to do with Davy Morgan—

her parents wouldn’t have been involved in the accident. An out-of-control petrol tanker had caused carnage on the highway when its brakes failed.

It had been their parents’ distinctive BMW that Kathy had seen on the news. The back from the rear seat was intact, including their shopping spoils from the day. The damage to the front—Megan blocked that sight from her memory—had made it impossible for anyone to survive.

The following few months had been horrendous. As Kathy and Megan tried to pack up the house, and sort their parents’ possessions, Megan was offered a temporary contract as a senior lecturer at the university and her face-to-face lecture hours increased, along with the time spent in lecture preparation and marking. Research was put on the back burner, until she couldn’t leave her doctoral thesis any longer.

Kathy spiralled into depression, and Megan—with Beth’s help—had tried to support her. Not only was she not coping with the tragedy, she and Tony were in the middle of their last attempt at IVF.

Megan did the best she could—although her relationship with her only sibling had always been fraught with arguments. Her own mental health suffered, but she buried herself in work determined not to give in.

“You have to eat.” Beth turned up at her office door every day and dragged her off to the university staff house for lunch. If it hadn’t been for Beth, Megan was sure she would have walked away from the university. Poor Beth had her own problems—she was in the middle of a messy divorce—and as summer faded into a dreary and bleak autumn, Megan wondered if any of them would ever be happy again.

One thing she had decided, she was going to forgo her planned research trip to Glastonbury in the UK summer because she didn’t want to leave Kathy while she was so fragile. She kept putting off booking the tickets, and was about to cancel the leave she’d applied for.

 In March, five months after the accident, Megan was marking—as usual. Surely she would finish soon. Davy Morgan’s ‘Come Back to Me’ was playing softly in the background on her computer, and a measure of calm stole over her for the first time in many weeks.

She’d jumped as a knock sounded at her door, and pressed pause on the music program.

“Who is it?” she called.

“It’s me. Kathy.”

Megan widened her eyes as she opened the door. Kathy’s hair was newly cut and she had a touch of lipstick on, and she was wearing a pretty dress, and a long white cardigan.

“Come in.” Megan held the door open and stood back as her sister stepped through. “You look… good,” she said carefully.

Kathy’s smile was wide. “I have something to tell you. Two things, actually.”

“Tell me?” Megan frowned and pulled her old cardigan close around her. The autumn had been cold and she wasn’t looking forward to winter.

“You’re the second to know.” Kath spoke quickly, her words running together as she reached for Megan’s hands. “You had to know next. After Tony.”

“Know what?”

Kathy’s hands were warm as they gripped Megan’s cold fingers. Since Mum and Dad had died, she’d lost weight and it was hard to keep warm.

“We’re pregnant. It worked, Megs. We’re going to have a baby.”

Megan closed her eyes as the little tendrils of happiness she’d felt for many weeks unfurled in her chest. She couldn’t help the tears that threatened to spill over as she held onto the warm, unfamiliar feeling.

“Oh my God!” She grabbed Kathy and hugged her. “Oh, Kath, sweetie, I’m so happy for you. Both of you. How far along are you?”

“We didn’t want to jinx our chances by telling anyone. I’m almost four months.”

The tears spilled over in earnest now. “Oh, Kath. Mum and Dad would have been so happy.”

“I know they would. But it’s time to move on. They’d both want us to celebrate life.”

“I know. Wherever they are, they’re together, and that’s what’s kept me going.” Megan sniffed and turned away. She didn’t know whether to smile or cry but Kath grabbed her hand again.

“I want you to know how much I’ve appreciated you being there for me over the past few months. I’ve been hard to deal with, I know, but it’s been just as hard for you, but I’ve leaned on you—and Tony so much.”

“It’s been tough for all of us. But let’s see this as a turning point. For all of us.”

“It is. And you’ve got it. It’s for all of us.” Kathy reached into the deep pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a blue plastic wallet. “But this is for you by yourself. To say thank you. From both of us, Tony and me.”

Megan frowned as Kathy put the plastic wallet into her hand. “What is it?”

“A business class return ticket to the UK. We’ve booked it for you. I know you were talking about cancelling your trip and your leave but there’s no need to. Tony said your temp contract is up the week before we booked your flight, and Beth has organised for you to stay in her family’s cottage in Glastonbury. You’ll be there just in time for the festival.”

“Oh no. I can’t go. I can’t accept this. “ Megan shook her head.

 “Yes, you can. Not only are you going to be an aunty, you’re going to Glastonbury.”

Kathy’s happy smile was worth it as Megan gave in.

She grabbed her sister and danced her around the room. “Oh my God. I am. I’m going to Glastonbury!”

Megan looked at the ticket in her hand, and her smile grew as wide as Kathy’s.