Broken Dreams Boxset

by Rebecca Barber

  “Not sure elephants are attracted to second-hand champagne,” Darrell teased as everyone shuffled seats so I could sit upfront in case another unexpected pit stop was required.

  I was restless. Wringing my hands together, I shifted in my seat. I don’t know if it was the lingering effects of last night’s bad decisions or the heavy dark clouds looming over my head.

  Three hours later, even Darrell looked disappointed. We were already running late in getting back and I’d heard the radio crackle at least half a dozen times. We were moving faster than we had the whole time I’d been here when Darrell rounded the corner and came to an unexpected and abrupt halt jolting us in our seats and causing me to bash my knee against the dashboard.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Shhh… listen.”

  Other than the bird squawking nearby, I heard nothing.

  “There it is again. Listen.”

  I caught the tail end of some kind of rumbling off in the distance, but I had no idea. “What is it?”

  Darrell slipped the Jeep in park and rummaged around in his bag between the seat before producing an impressive set of expensive-looking binoculars. After a few quiet minutes, he turned to me with a wide grin.

  “That, Ms. Maggie, is your elephant.”

  Bouncing in my seat like a kid who’d spent the day at a birthday party and come home high on sugar and attitude, I squealed, “Really?”

  “Absolutely. See for yourself.”

  He handed me the binoculars and pointed off into the distance. “See them?”

  “No,” I admitted, feeling crappy. No trace of an elephant for days and now, Darrell was telling me there was one on the other side of the clearing but I couldn’t see it. No movement. Not even a ruffle of tree.

  Behind me, Albert, one half of the German gay couple I’d come to love, exclaimed happily. “I see them!”

  “Them? There’s more than one?”

  “Ah, yeah. Want some help, sweetheart?”

  While Albert patiently tried to help point them out, behind me other’s screeched with excitement as they spotted them. My heart was plummeting. I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  “A couple more minutes and we’re going to have to head off. People are waiting on us. People with omelettes and bacon and pancakes.”

  “My favourite kind of people,” Philip replied with a wink.

  With all his attention focused on trying to help me see the damn elephant, I was the one who called off the search and suggested we go. Darrell’s disappointment was evident as he slipped the Jeep into drive and we headed back to the lodge, for the last time.

  With Marian waiting for me in the lobby, I ran back to my room, stuffed everything in my bag swearing and cursing at the zipper before falling through the door in seven minutes flat. A record for me. Thinking I was going to miss my chance at one last delicious feast, Edith surprised me when she handed me a to-go box filled with fresh fruit and still-warm Danish.

  With the lingering effects of last night making me drowsy, I leant back in the seat and sighed heavily. I couldn’t shake off my disappointment. I’d come all this way, been up at the arse crack of dawn day after day and still I’d missed out on seeing the one thing I wanted to see more than anything. I felt completely shitty. I was acting like a spoilt brat. We’d come up close to rhino, lions mating, and cheetahs lying in the grass. We’d seen warthogs dancing, got caught in traffic by a temperamental giraffe and even seen an hours-old zebra with its legs still shaky. Yet, I couldn’t feel happy. I felt cheated. Like I’d missed my chance.

  Staring at the window didn’t help my already-despondent mood. Shifting in my seat, I tried to get comfortable but the further we drove, the more miserable I got. Grabbing the pastry from the box, I took a bite, moaning as the flaky, buttery deliciousness filled my mouth. When the rain came again, I waited for Marian to slow down. She didn’t even appear to notice it. Instead she kept barrelling down the road unaffected.

  On the other side of the foggy window, I was surprised by the number of people walking along the side of the road in the mud. Not one person had a rain coat or umbrella. They just trudged on. A little further down the road what seemed to be a town of some description appeared. Maybe town was a bit of a stretch. From my warm, dry, leather seat, it looked like a ramshackle collection of hastily thrown together tin shacks. Some had doors, some were completely open and you could see the occupant squatting inside trying to stay dry. None of the walls were the same size or colour. Even though I was feeling pretty miserable about my own life, seeing people living like this was the reality check I needed. My life might be pretty shitty right now, but I still had a hell of a lot to be thankful for.

  “Marian?”

  “Yes, Ms. Maggie?” she replied quickly, catching my eye in the rear-view mirror.

  “All these people out here. Where do they work?”

  “Wherever they can.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Maggie.”

  “Please. Don’t apologise.” Now I felt even worse. The last thing Marian needed to be doing was apologising to me. I was the one who asked. “I was just curious. There doesn’t seem to be much around this way.”

  “There’s not. Not really anyway. They do their best with what they’ve got.”

  Just as Marian said that we rolled to a halt at the most oddly placed set of traffic lights I’d ever encountered. There was an intersection; we were travelling down the asphalt while the intersecting road was still red mud, or right now it was more like a red river. While we sat there, with no one else around I stared out the window. There was some kind of barbeque fired up and a group of men were hovering around the flames, trying to keep warm.

  “What are they cooking?”

  “Corn.”

  “Corn?”

  “Yes. They’ll try to sell it to anyone who passes by.” As Marian said it, a man wandered in our direction. A sharp click shocked me as the lock on the door engaged. He was only a couple of metres from my window when the light turned green and Marian floored it.

  We drove on in silence, my thoughts scrambled as I took in the desperation and poverty as far as my eyes could see. Gone were thoughts of the luxuries I’d left behind at the lodge, replaced by deeper, more serious ones. By the time we reached the outskirts of Johannesburg, I’d had so many thoughts, so many ideas about changes I wanted to make, needed to make to my own selfish life, it was like a different person stepping out of the car. I’d made decisions I’d needed to make for a long time but this trip had given me the kick in the arse I needed to take the leap.

  Pulling into the Intercontinental, I winced. I knew the moment I walked through the doors into the air conditioned, lavishly furnished hotel I’d be checked in, someone would carry my bag to my room where I could collapse on a comfortable bed. Yet barely an hour down the road, someone was sleeping in the mud.

  “Everything okay, Ms. Maggie?”

  Shit! I’d been so caught up in my own head, I hadn’t realised we’d stopped and Marian was standing beside my open door, my bags already on the footpath.

  “Yes. Sorry, Marian. I was a million miles away.” Scrambling from the car, I double checked to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

  Slipping my jacket on, I shivered as the breeze ruffled my hair. I stuffed some cash into Marian’s reluctant hand. I had three days here in Johannesburg before I was due to fly home. I had no idea what I was going to do with them or where to head next, but thankfully Marian offered to pick me up in the morning and take me out to see the sights.

  After a fitful night’s sleep, I was ready and waiting when Marian arrived the next morning, a coffee in her hand. I couldn’t have been more thankful to Marian. I’d definitely hit the jackpot meeting her. For the next two days she showed me everything I needed to see and made sure I’d experienced the best of Johannesburg. We’d been to museums, taken a paddle boat ride on the lake, sipped champagne at sunset from the rooftop bar
and eaten some of the most delicious barbeque I’d ever seen.

  “Thank you so much, Marian,” I gushed honestly. “I’ve had the best time.”

  “Even if I made you cry?”

  “Even if you made me cry.” And I did cry. How could I not? The Apartheid Museum wrenched my gut and tore my heart out. Seeing what people went through, what they were faced with made my own problems seem trivial. “You’re a great tour guide, Marian. I would probably be still trying to decide from the guide book if you hadn’t taken charge.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you sure you’re going to be okay tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Marian left and true to my new view of the world, I took myself out to dinner. I’d always been afraid of doing things on my own. I was worried what everyone would think. Judging me. Looking at me like I was a loser.

  Now here I was, sitting alone in the Italian restaurant, the scent of garlic in the air making my stomach rumble loudly. Digging through my bag I found my phone and logged into my email. While I’d been out at the lodge, I’d deliberately stayed offline not wanting to know. The world could’ve ended and I would have been happily oblivious. Now though, it was time I at least pretended to prepare myself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MAGGIE

  TWO YEARS AGO

  I hated myself. I hated my life. Every step I took I felt like I was tip toeing on egg shells. Every time I went to do something, even something as simple as buying groceries, I second guessed myself. I was beyond stressed. Worrying myself into an early grave. Feeling worse than I ever had, I started cutting myself off from the world. Alienating myself. I just couldn’t deal. Thankfully, work understood, or at least they seemed to. Some days I was fine, others I’d work from home, but then there were times I was such a mess I was barely able to function.

  A few times Kristie suggested I see someone, try and get some perspective but the truth was I was embarrassed. How had this shit show become my life? Although Kristie knew some of what had happened, in reality, she only knew the highlights. She didn’t have all the piercing, painful details that were destroying me from the inside with every single breath.

  It’d been two weeks since Drew had dropped his bombshell and upended my world, I still had no clue what to do. Did I still wash his socks? Did he expect me to iron his shirts? Was I supposed to cook for him and worry what time he’d get home? Was he going to take the fridge and I got the freezer? It was no wonder that some days I collapsed, mentally drained on the couch. My mind never stopped. When he left his wet towel on the bathroom floor, did I even bother to make a fuss, or was it just another thing I had to put up with? There was no rule book for what I was stuck in the middle of and no map to help me navigate my way back to sanity either.

  After Drew told me he didn’t love me, I fell apart. I burst into tears as everything started to hurt. It was a bone-deep ache that I couldn’t shake. Finally, after a couple of hours hiding in the spare bedroom wishing it was some bad nightmare that I’d eventually wake up from, I stumbled, bleary-eyed out to the lounge room to find Drew sitting in the dark swirling a tumbler of scotch in his hand.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I replied automatically. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew there were conversations we had to have. Things to be discussed, but I didn’t know where to begin. Thankfully, Drew started for me. I guess it was only fair since he’d had more time to adapt.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, with what I chose to believe was genuine concern.

  As much as I hated him right now for doing this to me, to us, I don’t think Drew had really set out to hurt me. Not deliberately. Instead of answering, I wasn’t sure I had the strength to form actual words, I shook my head sadly. Why lie? What was the point? The truth was, right now I was so far from being okay we weren’t even on the same continent.

  “You know I didn’t mean to do this. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  “We haven’t been happy for a long time, Mags. You know we haven’t. I was just the first one to say it.”

  As much as it broke my heart to admit it, Drew was right. I hadn’t been happy for a while, and I could see Drew wasn’t either. The difference between us though, I wasn’t entirely ready to give up on us. Call it stubbornness, call it pride, I just couldn’t walk away. When we’d said our vows all those years ago in front of our family and friends, I’d meant every single word. For better or worse. Richer or poorer. Till death do us part. And I’ll admit, lately our marriage had been a hell of a lot of the worse with very little of the better.

  And it was all my fault.

  Needing to be practical, needing to know what was going to happen, I dared to ask. “So, what happens next?”

  “What happens next with us?”

  “With us? What happens? Do we separate? Get a divorce? Do you want the fridge or the freezer? Do we tell our families? Our friends? Put the house on the market? I can’t afford this place on my own. Unless you want it.”

  “Whoa! Slow down, Maggie.”

  “I can’t slow down, Drew. I need to know.” When the tears came, I was surprised I had any left to cry.

  “I don’t have the answers, Maggie.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have the answers. You think if I did, I wouldn’t tell you?”

  We were both getting cranky now. Nothing good would come from pushing further, but right now, doing the right thing wasn’t at the top of my priority list. I needed answers. I doubted I’d be able to breathe until I got them. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  “You have to. You have to know what you want. If it isn’t… if it isn’t me, then what is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it someone else?” There. I’d said it. The one thought that had been eating me since the moment Drew had swooped in and shit on my life. The life we’d spent years building together.

  The look he shot at me should’ve had me cowering, usually it would’ve. Right now, though, I was sporting balls of steel. The moment when you feel like you’ve already lost everything worth holding on to, it’s pretty powerful. Makes you act irrationally. Letting everything that’s been in your head, every single jumbled emotion go is invigorating. When you have no fears of the consequences and no more energy left to stress over the details, you’re finally free. Free to say all those things you’ve always wanted to say but knew that no good could come from them.

  “God no!” Drew tossed back the remaining bourbon or scotch or whatever the hell it was he was drinking in one gulp. “Why would you even think that?”

  “I had to ask.”

  “Geez, Maggie. I’m not an arsehole.”

  Well, that was debatable. I didn’t point that out though. Draining all reserves of every bit of strength I possessed and some I didn’t even know I had, I fought for an actual answer. “Is there?”

  “Is there what?” Drew looked frustrated. He was staring into the bottom of his empty glass, dragging his hand through his hair with his forehead pinched tight.

  “Someone else?”

  Staring at me pointedly, he set his glass down on the coffee table and stepped towards me. Not once in all the years we’d been together, through all the fights had Drew ever physically harmed me. He’d not once come close. And although he looked like he might morph into the Hulk any second, I had no reason to believe he ever would.

  “No, Maggie. There’s no one else. I haven’t cheated on you and I don’t intend to. So you can fuck that thought right off.”

  Gulping, I forced the conversation to keep moving. This was all new to me. Usually when the hard times came and it was time for tough conversations, I barely spoke up. Sticking to nodding mutely was the best I could do. Today though, I fought back. Maybe I should’ve done it sooner. Maybe if I had, we wouldn’t be here. Stuck in this situation I couldn’t see a way out of it. Well, there was a way out. I just couldn’t convince myself that it was the answer for us. “I had to
ask.”

  “Why? Why’d you have to ask?”

  Are you kidding me?

  “Screw you, Drew. You come home and tell me you don’t love me anymore. You’re never here. I have no idea what you do all day or even where you go half the time and when I ask, you just tell me you’re busy. How do I know you don’t have a piece on the side?”

  “Piece on the side? Fuck you, Maggie. Seriously. Fuck you!” He stomped over to the bar, uncapped the scotch and half-filled his glass. I guess I knew how he was planning on dealing with this.

  “Fuck me? Well, you haven’t done that for a while either, so you’re getting it from somewhere.” It was a low blow. I knew it the moment the words came out but I couldn’t take them back. It was like the dam had burst and everything I’d been holding in came spewing out.

  “Be careful, Maggie.” Drew’s tone was thick with warning.

  “Why? You’re leaving me anyway. What else do I have to lose?”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Is what what I think?”

  “That I’m leaving you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Fuck me I was confused. What else was I supposed to think? My husband comes home from work in a pissy mood and tells me he doesn’t love me anymore. What am I supposed to do with that? He’s going to go out and get Thai for dinner and we’re going to snuggle on the couch? Seriously? You’d think after this long together he’d at least have some idea how my brain worked.

  “No.”

  “Then what the hell is happening here?” I flopped into the lounge, tucking my feet up under my butt. Shivering at the loneliness and sadness flooding me, I wrapped myself up like a burrito with the throw rug.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know but you’re not leaving?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Drew. You’ve got to give me something. What is it you want? What do you want from me?”

  Mentally I was running lists in my head of all the things I’d done, all the sacrifices I’d made for Drew through the years. I’d given him everything. Or at least I’d tried to. Everything he’d ever wanted to do, everything he’d wanted to try. I’d done everything I could to try and make him happy. It hadn’t mattered what I’d gone without or what I’d given up as long as Drew got what he wanted. Now it was all coming crashing down around me and I had no idea which way was up.