Summer Night Dreams

by Alison May

  Emily

  The meeting descends directly to gossip at that point, which is to be expected. It’s a room full of historians; they’re not used to having stuff that’s actually going on now to talk about. It’s fine for me. I don’t have to bother minuting gossip, so it gives me chance to think about the rest of the morning. It wasn’t very successful. It turns out that if all you know about a person is that they’re called Tania and they might have once lived in, or near, Penzance, it’s really hard to find out anything else. So far as I can tell she’s not on Facebook, or Linkedin, or Twitter, or even Friends Reunited, which, to be honest, I didn’t realise was even still a thing, but it is, and she’s not on it. That seems odd. Everyone’s on some sort of social network these days, aren’t they? Even my dad’s on Facebook. It’s excruciating. He had a whole phase of typing ‘lmao’ after everything because he’d seen other people do it. I had to tell him what it meant.

  I look up. Dom looks bored by the whole meeting. Dom looks bored a lot of the time lately. He hasn’t said anything or done anything, but I can feel him drifting away. Fourteen months. Fourteen months we’ve been together and it’s perfectly nice, but it’s not moving forward. I need it to move forward. I can’t lose Dad and Dom all at the same time. I need a two-pronged plan: to get rid of Tania and keep hold of Dom.

  At the other side of the table, Dom whispers something to Helen sitting next to him. She laughs. They were writing notes to each other when I arrived, like naughty school children. That gives me an idea.

  I catch up with Helen in the corridor as people are drifting away. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Sure.’

  We find a quietish corner in the main canteen. I’m not quite sure how to phrase this without sounding like a lunatic. ‘You’re friends with Dom, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She sounds wary. ‘Why?’

  I’m not sure how to put it into words. How do you explain that you need help making your boyfriend fall in love with you? ‘And he likes you, doesn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She’s staring down at her coffee.

  ‘I mean that you’ve known each other ages, haven’t you? And you get on?’

  She glances up. ‘It’s not like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  She running her finger up and down the side of her mug. ‘I mean we’re just friends.’

  I can’t help giggling. Bless her. Obviously, I didn’t think there was anything going on between them. I mean, Helen’s lovely and all, but she’s not the girlfriend type. Seriously, before we started hanging out I don’t think she even shaved her legs. ‘No. I know. I meant as friends.’

  ‘Right.’ She looks up. ‘Good. Okay.’

  ‘But you talk, don’t you?’

  She nods.

  I take a deep breath. I’m going to have to come out and say it. ‘I think Dom’s going off me. How do I get him to fall back in love with me?’

  She laughs awkwardly. ‘I’m sure he’s not going off you.’

  ‘He is. Since his dad died he’s been really distant.’ I can hear the whiny edge of desperation in my voice. ‘You’ve known him forever. What does he like?’

  I see her cheeks tinge pink.

  ‘I mean I know what he likes in that way! But what does he like, you know, in a person?’

  She shrugs, staring back down at her coffee. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Isn’t it best to keep your relationship between the two of you? You should talk to him if you’re worried.’

  I shake my head. This is why Helen is single. If I talk to Dom about it he’ll know how much I need him to stick around. You can’t let the man see that. Neediness is a total turn-off. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  She purses her lips. ‘We are.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong with helping me? You’re not going behind his back. You’re helping me make him happier. What’s wrong with that?’

  She sighs, but I can see that she’s coming round. ‘Well, maybe you need to get him involved in something you’re doing. You know, like a shared interest.’ She looks up. ‘He loves teaching. He loves helping people, so maybe something he could help you with. Make him feel needed.’

  It’s brilliant. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. One idea strikes me straight away. And then another. Dom will get to feel needed, without me being needy, and I’ll get to kill two other birds with the same stone. It’s perfect. I can feel the darkness receding. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to hold everything together and I’ll never have to be alone. ‘Thank you!’ I jump up. ‘Better go. Dad gets all weird if I’m away from my desk for the whole day.’

  Helen

  Helen watched Emily walk away from the table and across the dining hall. Emily thought she was being a good friend, but Helen was a horrible friend. If there was a secret to getting Dominic Collins to fall in love with you she patently hadn’t discovered it. She was in no position to offer advice to anyone else.

  She closed her eyes for a second. She needed to think. Emily’s argument was perfectly sensible. Helen and Dominic were friends. They did get on well. Maybe she did know what he liked and what made him happy. What she had to accept was that there was more to someone being in love with you than that. There was a certain je ne sais quoi, that Emily apparently possessed and Helen didn’t. That had always been the way. Plain Helen. Clever Helen certainly, but she’d never been the girl that boys gravitated towards, and she’d honestly never cared. She’d seen friends lose all sight of who they were in pursuit of a man, and then have the same man squash their hopes and dreams. Helen would never do that. She knew exactly who she was. That was the beauty of unrequited love. It was stable. It hurt, but it hurt a consistent, manageable amount. Of course, if Dominic did get serious about Emily, that would have to change. The relationship was common knowledge at work and she’d heard more than one colleague speculate that Theo wouldn’t be the only Midsomer getting married soon. And Dominic hadn’t denied it, had he? He hadn’t confirmed it either. Helen closed her mind to the faint voice of optimism. He’d been seeing her best friend for over a year. At some point, even the most ardent devotee had to accept that hope was lost.

  That implied moving on. It implied not thinking about him last thing at night, and first thing in the morning. It implied not coming into the office when she wasn’t working, on the off chance of seeing him. It might even imply going out on dates with Other Men. The thought turned Helen’s stomach. She had a flashback to her most recent date. Four years ago with a civil engineer from Leighton Buzzard, who’d been foisted on her by Susie. They’d established over appetisers that he loved speedway and she loved Katherine Mansfield and Vita Sackville-West, and they shared no obvious common ground in between. Nonetheless, he’d ended the evening with an enthusiastic two-handed boob lunge. Nothing about the experience had made her think the hunt for requited love would be any less soul-destroying then staying at home and keeping the candle she held for Dominic burning brightly. Well one step at a time, she thought. Helping Emily could be the start of moving on. There was no need to rush into the rest of it.

  Emily

  I leave Helen at the table. Ninety per cent of the plan has already come together in my head. It’s going to be perfect. Dom will get to feel helpful and supportive, which will make him feel extra protective of me, and I’ll get to work out what to do about Tania and a get brand new, totally free driving instructor. It’s genius.

  I stop at the counter on my way out of the canteen. Dad likes a snack after long meetings. I glance at my watch. It’s before twelve. That means they’ll still be serving his favourite. I order a bacon sandwich on white bread with extra brown sauce. What Tania doesn’t know won’t hurt her, will it?

  At the door to the office I stop. There’s somebody sitting at my desk spinning idly in the chair. ‘Comfortable there?’

  The spinner stops, looks up and smiles. Alex. I haven’t seen him properly since the day Dom’s dad died. I tell m
yself I haven’t thought about him either. ‘You weren’t here. I decided to wait.’ He points. ‘Your parcel is dripping.’

  The brown sauce has breached the napkin I’ve wrapped round the sandwich, and is running onto my hand. ‘Wait there.’ I run into Dad’s office and deposit the sandwich.

  He frowns. ‘Tania doesn’t think I should have too much red meat.’

  I wink at him. ‘Our little secret then.’

  Back in my own office Alex has stopped spinning in my chair and is now going through my in-tray. I snatch the handful of papers off him and put them back on the ‘To Do probably at some point’ pile. ‘What can I do for you?’

  He shrugs. ‘So, let me get this right? You live with your dad and work for your dad?’

  ‘Yes. And?’

  He shakes his head. ‘And nothing.’

  I move around the desk and wait for him to vacate my seat. He stands up slowly and, rather than waiting for me to sit down so he can get past, he slides between me and the wall. For a second our bodies contact all the way from the shoulders down to our knees. Our eyes lock together. I could lean forward just a fraction right now and kiss him. It would be so easy. I don’t, of course, but just for a moment I’m aware that I could. He’s smiling. I have no idea whether I’m smiling too. I’m struggling to remember to breathe. It’s a very, very long second, and then it’s over.

  He moves to the other side of the desk. ‘They said I had to bring my bank details and national insurance number in. Apparently that’s why I’ve never been paid and you’re the person to fix it.’

  ‘I’m the person.’ I’m staring at him with my mouth wide open.

  ‘Good.’ He puts a sheet of paper with his name, a sort code and account number scrawled on it, and his national insurance card on the desk in front of me.

  I’m still staring. Must stop staring. Must pick up piece of paper and do things with the paper. I can’t for the life of me remember what things. Breathe Emily. Breathe. Bank details. Yes. ‘I have to put them on the ...’ I point at the screen on my desk. I have to put the details into the screen box thingy.

  ‘I can wait.’

  ‘No.’ I grab a notepad and write down his national insurance number. ‘I mean you don’t need to. I’ve got everything I need.’

  He shrugs. ‘Fair enough. I’ll see you later then lovely Emily.’

  I nod. He walks out of my office and straight down the corridor opposite. I watch him. I can’t stop watching him. I shake my head. I don’t like skinny boys. I like real men, like Dom.

  Alex

  Emily was hot. Alex turned the thought over in his head as he walked down the corridor. He was sure she hadn’t been quite as hot when he’d met her before, but then she’d had Dominic Collins in tow, and the whole evening had turned a bit death and bereavementy, which was enough to take the edge off anybody’s hotness mo-jo. Of course the level of Emily-hotness was an entirely academic issue. She was going out with Dominic, and having a crack at her would be in contravention of Alex’s brand new rule about not sleeping with girls with boyfriends. Or, at the very least, not sleeping with girls whose boyfriends he knew.

  He ambled the length of the building considering this conclusion, and realised that he was actually disappointed. That was unusual. Normally he was a devotee of the plenty more fish in the sea theory of sex. One rejection or missed opportunity was neither here nor there. There would always be other girls and other chances further down the line. Disappointment that a girl was already off-the-shelf was an unfamiliar emotion.

  He stuck his head round the door of the hourly-paid lecturers’ office. As he’d hoped, Helen was in there. Excellent. That meant he could probably wangle a lift home. He also had news. Helen had her headphones in and was engrossed in work, sitting at the far end of the office with her back to the door. Alex watched her for a moment, and a plan started to formulate. Helen was in love with Dominic. Obviously, she’d tried to make out it was no big deal, and she’d definitely said she didn’t want him to get involved, but that didn’t change the fundamental truth. Helen was in love with Dominic. Therefore, if Dominic was single that would be good for Helen. Logically, the only way to achieve that would be to do something to split Dominic up from his current girlfriend. Thinking things through, Alex reasoned, sleeping with Emily could be seen as act of friendship, rather than an unutterably terrible idea.

  He ambled across the office and flicked his landlady on the back of the next. She jumped in her seat. ‘What?’

  ‘I have gossip.’

  Helen pulled the headphones out of her ears. ‘I don’t gossip.’

  ‘Bollocks. Anyway, it’s more news than gossip.’

  ‘Go on.’ Helen’s gaze didn’t shift from her computer screen.

  Alex leant on the desk to face her. ‘I came from Emily’s office, and guess what she had on her desk?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The draft advert for the new permanent lecturer’s job.’

  Finally he had her full attention. ‘And?’

  ‘Like I said. Modern or early modern, not medieval. You’re a shoe-in.’

  Helen shook her head. ‘Levine’ll apply.’ Doctor Levine was the longest standing hourly paid lecturer, a rather boring fastidious little man, in Alex’s opinion. ‘And they’ll have external applicants.’

  Alex sighed. He did adore his not-quite cousin, but sometimes her realism and practicality were exhausting. ‘You’ll definitely apply though?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Definitely. And I’ll help. We’ll make a whole campaign plan.’

  Helen frowned. ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘We’re friends.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘And that’s the only reason?’

  Alex nodded. ‘And, you know, I don’t really have anything better to do.’

  ‘What about your PhD?’

  Alex pulled a face of mock horror. ‘I thought you knew me better than that.’

  Emily

  Dominic pulls the car up outside my house.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay tonight?’ He asks, glancing at the overflowing box of papers on the back seat. ‘I’ve only got a bit of work to do.’

  ‘It’s ok. Thanks for the lift.’ I lean across to kiss him goodbye and stop. I’ve got a plan. I need to put it into action. ‘Actually, I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘It’s about my driving.’ A look flashes across his face. He covers it quickly, but it’s too late. I saw the horror. ‘What was that face for?’

  He shakes his head. ‘What face?’

  ‘I still need to practise more.’

  ‘So you’d better find a new instructor then, hadn’t you?’

  What did Helen say? Make him feel needed. Right. I open my eyes as wide as they’ll go. ‘It’s really hard with an instructor I don’t know. I was thinking maybe it would be better with somebody I already trust.’ I run my finger up his arm. ‘I thought maybe you could take me out sometime, just to practise.’

  He grimaces. ‘I don’t know. My dad tried to teach me to drive. It was awful.’

  ‘Did you fight?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I wish. Every mistake I made, I could feel the disappointment, At the end he actually said ...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘He said, “And I thought you were supposed to be clever.” And then he got out of the car and never mentioned it again.’

  I stick out my bottom lip. ‘But we wouldn’t be like that. You already know I’m dippy.’

  ‘You’re not dippy.’

  ‘You’d really be helping me out.’

  He shrugs. ‘All right. We’ll do an hour and see how it goes.’

  I fling my arms round his neck. ‘Thank you!’ I plant a massive kiss on his cheek, and he moves his face to kiss me back full on the lips. I get out and watch him drive away. It’s working. Helen was right. If I can make him feel needed, h
e’ll love me again and everything will be all right.

  Dad’s car is already outside the house, which is a surprise. He normally works at least another hour after I finish for the day. That’s good. He won’t like it if Tania’s pressuring him to come home earlier.

  They’re sitting together at the dining room table. Tania has a lined A4 pad in front of her, and most of the table top is hidden under stacks of bridal magazines and brochures. I plaster the smile that I seem to wear more and more across my face. ‘More wedding plans?’

  My dad nods. ‘Tania wanted to get the guest list sorted out.’

  Tania nods. ‘Less than four months to go. We need to order the invites.’

  Less than four months. It’s still three and a half months longer than they’d known each other when they got engaged. A lot can change in four months. I lean across the table and pick up the pad. I skim my eyes down the list. A selection of aunts and uncles and distant cousins. A few old friends of my dad’s who I remember from when I was a kid. Pretty much every university colleague he’s ever had. I flick the page and scan to the bottom of sheet two. David Levine. Helen Hart. Alex Lyle. My mind jumps back to the moment in my office. My whole body pressed against his. I shake my head. Bad boy eyes. Not what I need in my life. Not somebody I could rely on. ‘Alex?’

  My dad nods. ‘I’ve invited everyone from the department.’

  I shrug. ‘I didn’t know you even knew who he was.’

  ‘Well I don’t really, but Tania thought we ought to invite everybody rather than pick and choose.’

  I take in the length of the guest list. It’s not Tania that’s going to be paying though, is it? Something else strikes me. I scan again, looking for names I don’t recognise. If I can find some of her family or friends, maybe I can find out some more about the mysterious cocktail waitress from Penzance. There aren’t any. Every single person on this list is a friend, relative or colleague of Dad’s. I hand this list back to Tania. ‘So I guess you’ve still got to do your half?’