Dream a Little Dream

by Giovanna Fletcher

  Dan catches my eye and bows his head, throwing a pensive smile of thanks in my direction.

  Thursday:

  Fun fact: Leonardo da Vinci could write with one hand and draw with the other at the same time … Who says us guys can’t multitask?

  Are there any tasks you can do at the same time?

  I reply, wondering where he’s heading with this one.

  Only rude ones. ;-)

  Friday:

  Fun/disturbing fact: twenty per cent of office coffee mugs contain faecal matter.

  I’ve just spat out my coffee.

  Good job …

  My hands loiter above the keys, wondering if I should say anything about the wedding that’s two days away. Before I really have a chance to mull it over, my new colleague Debbie (she’s my age, super cute and all kinds of amazing – nothing like Poutmouth) comes over for a catch up. The morning slips away along with my working lunch and the afternoon and, if I’m totally honest, I don’t have a chance to think about Real Brett for the rest of the day.

  After a manic (but hugely enjoyable) week, I breathe a happy sigh as I wrap myself up in my winter warmers and step into the dark, cold London night.

  ‘I thought I might find you here,’ a familiar voice says in my ear.

  ‘Brett,’ I grin, turning round and, without thinking, throwing my arms around him – either I’ve missed him more than I’ve realized or I’m in a much brighter place than I was before and giddily loose with my PDAs. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve come to give you this,’ he says, pulling a small cardboard box from behind his back. ‘You look lovely, by the way,’ he adds, looking down at my new black dress, tights and heels combo – I went out and bought lots of new clothes to go with my new job. In fact, I went a bit credit-card crazy, so it’s good to know it’s money well spent.

  ‘Thank you,’ I smile, taking the gift from him and wiggle it slightly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Open it,’ he shrugs.

  I lift the lid and pull out a mug with World’s Greatest Nan written on it. ‘Whaaaaat?’ I giggle, looking bewildered at the mug that’s identical to the one we saw Ethel using when we went to visit her.

  ‘After today’s fun fact I didn’t think you’d be wanting to drink out of any old mug lying around the office, so thought I’d get you your own.’

  ‘I’m not a nan,’ I point out, pursing my lips at him.

  ‘No, but I thought it would make you smile every time you used it.’

  I do just that as I hug him once more, pulling him tightly against me.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s nothing …’ Pause. ‘So, what do you think? Want to try Wagas again?’

  ‘I’m meant to be going home to a microwave dinner and a nice long soak in the bath … but sod it. Yes. Let’s,’ I say, looping my arm through his as we walk through Soho, feeling my cheeks blush every time he looks over at me to talk.

  ‘Well, I’ve got to ask,’ I say, when we’re eventually sat down at the wooden benches and have ordered an obscene amount of food for just two people. ‘How was it?’

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Yes …’ I say with a squirm, part of me hoping he’s going to say he hated the whole thing and wishes he didn’t have to go back over there for filming.

  ‘It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be – but then, I had thought that you were going to be out there,’ he says, his brow rising with disappointment.

  ‘Well. You and me both.’

  ‘I’d have enjoyed that much, much more,’ he tells me, his green eyes dancing in my direction as our knees flirtingly touch underneath the table.

  I try to hide a smile but it doesn’t work as all I can think about is the fact that our legs are touching and that I can feel the heat of him through my tights and his trousers. It’s a simple, little, thing – but it makes my breathing lighten and rise to my chest.

  ‘Was Louisa a nightmare?’ I ask, ignoring my voice as it catches.

  ‘To be honest, I thought she was going to be a lot worse than she was. She got savagely duped by her ex over there so I don’t think she was quite up to being the bitch we know her to be.’

  ‘Why? What happened?’

  ‘She went over to surprise him at the address she had for him but he wasn’t there. It was his family home, so it’s not like he gave her a fake address or anything, but apparently he’d moved out and into his girlfriend’s place a long time ago.’

  ‘Whaaaat?!’ I ask as my jaw drops.

  ‘Yep,’ he nods, matter-of-factly, almost as though he’s enjoying delivering the gossip even though he feels bad for her. ‘Turns out he’d been dating and living with this girl for years but just came over here for a few months working or something. Needless to say he’d never told either of the women about the other one and had simply left Louisa in London and carried on with his old life in Oz.’

  ‘Playa’s gonna play,’ I say like some rude girl before slapping myself around the cheeks and burying my face in my hands.

  ‘Are we ignoring you just said that?’ he laughs.

  ‘Please,’ I squeak, bright red.

  He laughs again, leaning forward and placing a hand on one of my shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze to let me know he doesn’t think I’m a total twat. Not a total one …

  ‘Anyway, Lou was quite cut up about the whole thing and spent the rest of the trip crying or taking selfies – mostly to show him what he’s missing out on,’ he frowns. ‘You know what you girls are like.’

  ‘That’s crap,’ I say sadly, ignoring the fact that he’s just called Poutmouth ‘Lou’ and that he’s just bracketed me with her – he knows I don’t do selfies!

  ‘Yeah, it wasn’t the best time to have a relationship drama – I think she regretted ever going over there … the rest of it was good, though, and obviously Oz and New Zealand are amazing. I just know it would’ve been a very different experience with you there,’ he says, his knee knocking against mine slowly so that our legs gently bash together.

  In response my foot arches in my heeled shoes, causing my shin to skim up his calf.

  My head spins at another moment of having my breath snatched from my throat as my happy endorphins send a surge of orgasmic waves to my head.

  I’m given a few seconds to compose myself as the waiter arrives with a random mixture of our food – perhaps the oddest thing about the restaurant is that they just bring the food over whenever it’s ready, dish by dish. It’s nice in the sense that you don’t know what’s going to come out next – but I did once stuff my face with katsu and edamame, and then tried to squeeze in some gyoza that arrived ten minutes later, even though I was full to the brim.

  ‘So,’ Real Brett says, munching on a mushroom onigiri. ‘What’s new your end?’

  ‘What isn’t new?’ I ask with a smile.

  ‘Well, rumour has it you had Jonathan in quite a mess.’

  ‘Did he cry?’

  ‘I can’t confirm that.’

  ‘Or deny?’ I ask, raising my eyebrows at him playfully.

  ‘He looked quite embarrassed when he had to tell me, Lou and Siobhan about it when we got back.’

  ‘Good,’ I nod, hating the thought of them all in a debrief meeting with him.

  ‘Idiot,’ he shrugs. ‘Him. Not you.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘So how’s the new job?’

  ‘I love it,’ I gush.

  ‘Brilliant. They’re lucky to have you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, popping an edamame pod in my mouth and then feeling self-conscious as I slowly pull on it and suck out the beans. I’ve never realized how rude and suggestive the whole debacle is – definitely on par with eating a banana (which I’ve never been able to do in public without thinking about giving head and subsequently blushing my way through the snack).

  ‘So, what I really want to know,’ he says, oblivious to my inner thoughts as the waiter comes out with our chicken katsu curries and a fork and
spoon – correctly assuming we’re not going to faff around with the chopsticks laid out for us. ‘Yes, so, what I really want to know is … what are the plans for the wedding this weekend?’

  ‘You don’t need to come to that,’ I blush, shrugging as I spoon some breaded chicken and rice in my mouth and then quickly shoving in some water because it’s too hot.

  ‘I’m your plus one.’

  ‘Well, yes …’ I stammer, coughing on my food. ‘But it’s not exactly going to be – ’

  ‘I was invited.’

  ‘You said you weren’t sure if you could make it,’ I flounder, delighted that he’s remembered but panicked in case he’s only coming because he was put on the spot and not because he actually wants to.

  ‘I said, “We’ll see” …’ Pause. ‘I saw and I’m free.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Please don’t leave me all alone on Valentine’s Day,’ he pleads, pretending to be distressed. ‘This is my only hope of it not turning into yet another lonely affair as I eat ice-cream and sob while watching About Time.’

  ‘Oh that is sad …’

  ‘Exactly,’ he nods, dragging down the edges of his lips with his fingers to highlight the sad face he’s pulling. His mouth cracks into a grin and mine responds with one equally as goofy and ridiculous.

  ‘Well, in that case – if it’s actually a favour to you …’

  ‘It is. I’m a total charity case,’ he reasons.

  ‘Fine – you can come.’

  ‘Thank you – you’re a life saver,’ he winks.

  ‘We’re leaving tomorrow at midday,’ I smile.

  ‘And we’re staying … ?’

  ‘Ha! I’m staying in a little B&B down the road from Dan’s.’

  ‘I’ll squeeze in.’

  ‘Oh, will you now?’ I say, amused by his choice of words.

  ‘Oh fuck, I didn’t mean it like that,’ he moans, the tops of his cheeks pinking.

  ‘Are you seriously going to blush over that after all the innuendos you’ve been flying my way over the last three months?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he laughs, innocently spooning some food into his mouth.

  ‘Yeah …’ I say, rolling my eyes at him before going back to talk about the weekend’s plans. ‘The wedding obviously isn’t until Sunday, so tomorrow night us lot are going to a local Indian restaurant for a buffet.’

  ‘Lovely,’ he comments with a minuscule frown.

  ‘It’s his favourite,’ I tell him, wondering if he’s not an Indian food lover, or whether he thinks Dan should be doing something more boisterous the night before his wedding.

  ‘Nice,’ he nods.

  ‘It’ll be great. I think the boys have organized a funny little quiz for him – our way to send him off into married life,’ I say, my hands flying into the air and causing my elbows to bash into the waiter as he brings out our chilli squid – thankfully the last dish to be delivered as I’m almost fit to pop.

  ‘Maybe I’ll leave you guys to it tomorrow night and get the train up first thing on Sunday,’ he says, once the commotion with the waiter is over and the plate is calmly placed on the table.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ I tell him, not wanting him to feel like he’s not welcome.

  ‘No, no … I think I should,’ he shrugs. ‘It sounds like a special moment for your group.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I pull a questioning face in his direction. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I just don’t understand how you’re not weirded out by the whole thing,’ Real Brett says with contemplation.

  ‘What? With Dan?’ I ask, my eyes popping out of my head as I blow a pondering raspberry at his admission. ‘It is what it is, I guess.’

  ‘Really? I think if my ex was getting married in two days’ time and I had to go along and watch it I’d be pretty messed up in the head right about now.’

  ‘Yeah … the line has been drawn, though,’ I shrug. ‘It’s not as if I still have lingering feelings or think of Dan as anything other than an ex who’s a friend. Thinking of him in any other way just freaks me out,’ I comment, picking up a piece of squid and placing it in my mouth.

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  ‘Actually,’ I chew. ‘I think I’d feel shittier if I knew my mates were there celebrating all together and I was missing out …’

  ‘Even at your ex’s wedding?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Girls are strange.’

  ‘Couldn’t agree more,’ I smile. ‘Plus, I now have an amazing date who’s going to look after me and keep me entertained the whole day.’

  ‘That’s me,’ he winks, making me laugh.

  ‘You’d better not disappoint.’

  ‘Pressure’s on,’ he smiles.

  I’ve missed Brett and our exchanges – something that’s been highlighted by the fact that I’ve had NO Brett for company for a whole month after weeks of having Real Brett and Dream Brett soaking up both my waking and sleeping hours. There’s been a Brett void, and I’m so thrilled, relaxed and happy to have the huge crater of emptiness filled at last.

  Therefore, I’m sad when we come to the end of the meal and it’s time to say goodbye.

  ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you at the church,’ he smiles, putting his phone back into his pocket now that I’ve typed in the address.

  ‘I’ll be the one in the big white dress,’ I joke. ‘It’s huge and fluffy, you won’t be able to miss me.’

  ‘Nice, I’ll look out for you,’ he nods, leaning forwards and giving me a soft kiss on the cheek – pulling away slowly and stopping just a few inches from my face.

  I actually feel giddy, mischievous, magical stuff oozing out of me as I look into his beautiful sparkly eyes – unable to stop myself as I glance down longingly at his lips.

  He notices the look and breaks out into a grin. ‘I’ll see you Sunday,’ he whispers with a wink, standing tall and walking away.

  Just as I start melting on the spot my phone starts ringing in my pocket.

  Mum.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ I breathe, picking up while still gazing longingly in the direction that Real Brett’s walked in. ‘How’s Dad?’

  ‘Oh he’s fine – they’ve really dosed him up on painkillers so he can’t feel a thing.’

  ‘That’s good,’ I say with a sigh, starting to make my way towards the tube.

  ‘And how are you? How’s your first week been?’

  ‘Amazing. They’re so great there.’

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ she says. ‘I’ve been telling everyone about Jonathan’s appalling behaviour towards you.’

  ‘Oh Mum …’

  ‘No, I have. I don’t know how you remained so loyal to him for so long.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ I reply – although feeling like everything’s actually fallen into place at the right time.

  ‘You’re a good girl,’ Mum continues, sounding like she’s on a roll. ‘It’s not easy changing jobs in the current climate but you courageously went forth and made it all happen. Such a brave move. You should be really proud of yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I say, smiling at her words. ‘I am.’

  ‘Good,’ she punches. ‘Now who’s this date you’re taking to the wedding?’

  ‘What date?’ I laugh, surprised at the sudden switch in conversation.

  ‘Don’t you play that card with me, madam – Carly mentioned someone called Brett and Pat’s just confirmed that his name’s on the seating plan.’

  ‘Why’d you call Dan’s mum?’ I ask.

  ‘To show support and check how everything’s going, obviously,’ she tuts. ‘Sounds like utter chaos there. The tent is up but the flowers have been a total disaster – all still in little buds. But that’s beside the point. Who’s Brett? You didn’t tell me you were dating someone.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Then who is he?’ she demands.

  I can’t help but giggle.r />
  ‘Just a guy from work,’ I answer, stopping outside the tube station and preparing myself for the Spanish Inquisition.

  34

  Two days later I’m standing behind a tree wearing a light blue Karen Millen bodycon dress (I totally self-indulged for the occasion) with the Manolo Blahniks Mum and Dad bought me (who cares if I can’t walk, at least I’ll look good), watching as the wedding congregation joyously heads into the church.

  I’m hiding (actually hiding) as I see Alastair and Josh with Dan’s old school friends and extended family, all greeting each other with beaming smiles. For the first time since accepting the invite to come along, I find myself hit with nerves.

  I’m totally fine with the fact that it’s Dan and Lexie’s wedding day, but what has shaken me is the thought of going into that building when I know so many of the familiar faces will be wondering why on earth I’m there. Dan’s elderly grandparents are going to be so confused when they see my face – and you can bet others will assume I’ve not been invited and have just come along to cause trouble.

  I might’ve just got to grips with relationship dynamics within our group – but that doesn’t mean everyone else is going to know that we still hang out together and consider ourselves friends.

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly – hating the fact that everyone else is in the wedding party.

  ‘Going in?’ a low, gravelly voice asks behind me.

  ‘God, I can’t tell you how close I’ve come to leaving,’ I say, turning to find Real Brett in a dark grey suit, sat on a wooden bench behind me.

  ‘How long have you been there?’

  ‘Long enough to know it’s a good job I’m here,’ he says, raising his eyebrows at me.

  ‘You were right – this is weird,’ I sigh.

  ‘And you were right,’ he says, standing up, striding over and placing his warm hand on my bare arm. ‘You have an amazing date who’ll take care of you all day.’

  ‘Promise?’ I groan, sticking out my bottom lip like a child.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he says, leaning down and kissing the top of my head – a gesture that makes the butterflies that have been already going batshit crazy in my tummy go totally berserk.