Journey to Her Dreams

by Iris Blobel

  The sharp pain spread instantly through her head, and Sam instinctively covered her face with her hands to shield herself. For a moment she forgot to breathe. Her heart was hammering.

  “Please, Padraic. Please, let me just go to bed.”

  His breath was coming in erratic gasps, and disregarding her words, he kissed her lips again more vehemently. She knew she was too exhausted to fight anymore. When he moved away for only a second to study her face, he saw her eyes averted and filled with tears.

  Padraic dropped his arms and stared at her. Running his hands through his hair, he stepped back, not taking his eyes off her.

  “What am I doing?” he said under his breath.

  A tense silence hung in the air, and after a short moment—a moment that seemed like an eternity—she turned around and went to the kitchen to place some ice on her cheek.

  The pain on her face slowly subsided, but Sam’s heart still ached. This had been such a wonderful day for both of them; Padraic’s caring attention during the morning, the afternoon after her snooze filled with spoiling compliments, and a party full of laughter and enjoyment. Then he had a few drinks, and right before Sam’s eyes all this disappeared. His mood changed into the desire, which came with the roughness she despised. The thought froze in her brain.

  ****

  The next morning, Sam was awakened by the noisy wind bashing against the window. She tossed around and quickly remembered she was in the spare bedroom again. The small lump next to her turned out to be her little teddy bear.

  Hello, my best friend. Her parents had given him to her when she was born. Her mother had stitched the name Sammy onto the teddy’s tummy, although nobody had ever called her by that name. She was Sam to everyone and Samantha to her parents when she was in trouble.

  Sam jumped when she heard the doorbell. Quickly, she grabbed her little friend and his blanket, rushed into her bedroom, and hid him in the far back corner of the drawer in the cupboard. Teddy was her little secret. Sam hadn’t told anybody about her companion since childhood, probably because her father had always ridiculed her love for the toy. And she did love her teddy bear.

  Sam still loved Padraic. At least she thought she did. He was a wonderful husband most of the time, caring and loving. Yet, she recognised this was not the way a marriage was supposed to be. The lovemaking, full of passion, was slowly disappearing, and she treasured those rare nights when he attended to her desires as he used to.

  Sam couldn't comprehend how his personality changed after a few drinks. It was something he hadn’t had a problem with at the start of their relationship—then again, he hadn’t drunk much back in those days.

  Just confront him. Talk about it. You’re no wimp! You’re a successful businessperson who makes millions of euros each year for the magazine. Sam stood up, straightened her shoulders, and moved towards the door with determination.

  As she walked along the upstairs hallway, she heard Padraic’s father. She groaned inwardly and went down the stairs, but stopped halfway. Angus’ deep voice echoed through the house, and Sam couldn’t help but overhear the men’s conversation.

  “How are you, son?” Angus asked, shaking Padraic’s hand.

  “Doing extremely well, Dad. Thanks.”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “Still upstairs. We had a bit of a late night last night,” Padraic explained. His dad wasn’t fond of sleep-ins. For Angus, that was a waste of time.

  Angus’ mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. “Sounds like your wife.”

  “Dad.”

  “I suppose there is still no news of an heir to carry on our name.”

  “Nope.”

  “Instead of pretending to be this successful person at the magazine place, she should try to concentrate on being a good wife and produce an heir. For goodness sake, Padraic, it’s not that hard, is it? There’s nothing wrong with her, is there?”

  “Dad, times are different nowadays. Sam’s doing well at the moment, and we’re simply delaying parenthood for a few years. That’s about it.”

  Angus choked back a laugh. “Delaying. That’s some nonsense if I ever heard it. With her marriage to you comes the responsibility to take on the duties of a wife, and that includes producing children. You do earn enough to support a family, don’t you?”

  “It’s not like that anymore. These are old-fashioned values, and you have to accept Sam’s decision in this situation.”

  Sam vividly imagined how Angus would probably stare at his son in disbelief and disappointment. As she took another step down, she saw her father-in-law standing in front of Padraic. Even at his age of nearly seventy, the grey hair, the leathery face with the icy blue eyes, and his body language showed he demanded and deserved respect. Clearly, he couldn’t understand why a woman would choose a job over having children.

  “Anyway, Dad, I wanted to ask you whether we could use the beach house next weekend. I have a feeling it’ll do us good to have some relaxing days just before the Christmas hectic.”

  Still eavesdropping, Sam smiled. Yes, a few relaxing days sounded good, and she was glad Padraic decided on the long weekend. Yes, it’d do them good to enjoy a few days away from their hectic life. A few days to hopefully go back to what they once had. A few days for her to tell him how she loved him so much, but how she was afraid of him when he drank.

  Chapter Seven

  “Morning, Dad,” Hollie said.

  “Morning, love. Another late night?” Murray handed her a coffee.

  She walked over to him and gave him a kiss. “Not really, but first I couldn’t unwind, and then, well, the usual, I’d say.”

  Murray watched her with some concern. “Another one of those disturbing dreams?” he asked.

  Hollie sat on the chair and nodded. “Yes. And they’re getting to me.”

  There was worry in Murray’s voice. “Love, have you tried to talk to someone about it?”

  “No, I haven’t. What am I supposed to say? I’m having dreams about someone being abused?”

  Hollie’s bad dreams had started late the previous year. She had these odd dreams of this woman sitting in the corner of a room crying. With tears falling down her face, the woman was inconsolable, and all Hollie wanted to do was hug her. She wanted to assure her everything was going to be all right. But she couldn’t reach her. Hollie would toss and turn in bed, waking in a sweat. She knew this was more than just a dream. The aching of her body in the morning mirrored the pain she saw in the woman’s eyes. Most of the nights, Hollie’s eyes burned dryly from sleeplessness, and often she kept herself awake, just wishing it would go away.

  Murray sat next to her and took her into his arms. Though she’d never told him the exact details of the dreams, he knew they were affecting her—big time! She was tired and worn-out by the emotional roller coaster, but she met all his advice to see someone with a smile and an I’ll-be-all-right attitude.

  She could tell he was getting desperate for her to get help, but as he often told her, she was like her mother in every little way—particularly stubborn and strong-willed. Her father would respect that she needed to get through this on her own terms. There was nothing he could do, except be there when she needed him.

  Murray took his bag and the car keys before he grabbed a few last things he needed for his drive to his annual farming meeting in Hobart for the weekend. Hollie knew he wasn’t as interested in the stalls at the expo anymore, but it was a good chance to catch up with old friends he had made over the years. This was his annual social event, the recharging of his soul, and something he looked forward to every year.

  So when his Ute had given up the ghost a few years ago on the way back, Hollie had been firm that he was to use her car for trips longer than just around town. And he had done so ever since—not happily, but he had. And though he undoubtedly missed his Ute, deep inside he probably knew Hollie was right.

  “I suppose you’re getting ready for your drive to the mountains? Don’t forget the torch and the compass, tho
ugh. You never know whether you will need them,” he said with concern.

  Her smile turned into a chuckle. “Yes, Dad. I have a whole weekend to prepare.”

  “And do try to get a bit of sleep over the weekend. Heaven knows you’ll need the strength to hike through the mountains.”

  “Yes, Dad.” She knew he was right, but he worried too much about her. Following her father out to the car, she watched with amusement as he squeezed awkwardly into her seat.

  Murray had to slide it all the way back to make room for his long legs. As he slipped the key into the ignition and cranked it, the speakers instantly blared to life, sending him frantically grasping for the volume knob. He shot Hollie a glare, obviously frazzled. She laughed and gave him a kiss through the window.

  “Have a safe trip, Dad, and enjoy the weekend,” she said. “Love you.”

  “Love you too, but sometimes I wish you’d take me more seriously.” He shook his head, but the expression on his face softened. “You take care of yourself.” And he drove off.

  Hollie waved for a while and turned back to the house only when he was out of sight. She broke into a wide, open smile as she imagined her father cursing and screaming at the car all the way down to Hobart. The morning breeze made her hair flutter slightly, and she stepped back inside, pondering what to do over the weekend.

  The cup of tea was just the right thing she needed. She flopped onto the couch with a sigh and kicked off her shoes. After several minutes of sheer contentment, she remembered the lunch she was supposed to have with Jeremy. Hot and cold chills ran up and down her body. She rose in one fluid motion and paced up and down the room. Think, Hollie, think. Rushing into the hall, she grabbed the phone and dialled Alex’s number. Impatiently, she held the phone to her ear. First ring. Second ring. Third ring. Nobody answered.

  Hollie started to panic when the answering machine clicked on. “This is the Cayhall family. Unfortunately, we’re currently not at home, but please leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” Hollie hung up without leaving a message.

  Ben was her next option, but he was at the coast and wasn’t able to help. Tears trembled behind her eyelids. Think, Hollie, think. How could she get into contact with Jeremy? She had to tell him she had no car and wasn’t able to come into town. She dashed into the kitchen and frantically searched for Murray’s keys to the Ute before she made her way over to the shed. But as soon as she laid eyes on the rusty old Ute, she gave up all hope.

  Swallowing a sob that rose in her throat, she went back to the house, picked up the phone, and dialled Jeremy’s number.

  “Yep, hello,” Jeremy answered.

  “Oh. Hi, it’s Hollie here,” she said more hesitantly than intended.

  “Hi. How are you? You’re not going to chicken out, are you?” he teased.

  “Well.” Hollie sighed.

  “You obviously are,” Jeremy replied.

  “No, I’m not,” she said with a choked voice. “I’m stuck on the farm.”

  There was a trace of laughter in his voice. “You’re what?”

  “Dad took my car, and I’m stuck on the farm for the weekend.”

  “Are you serious?” Jeremy asked, bemused.

  “Can you hear me laughing?” Hollie replied, now in frustration.

  “Okay. Let me focus here. This is a new one for me. I’ve never had a situation like this before.”

  “Someone stuck on the farm or someone cancelling lunch with you?”

  “You are a bit of a handful, Hollie.” He chuckled. “How about I come over and bring some lunch? Or am I misunderstanding the situation?”

  “I have no idea what there is to misunderstand. I’m stuck. No car except an old Ute, which probably hasn’t seen any asphalt in years. No way am I going to put my bum on those seats and dare to get that thing going all the way into town.”

  His laugh was deep and warm. “Your honesty is quite refreshing. I’ll take that as settled then and will be over in a few hours.”

  “I warn you, I have an old cricket bat somewhere around here if you don’t behave.”

  “I promise I’ll be good. We hit it off the completely wrong way, honestly.”

  “About one then?” she asked.

  “No worries. How come your dad has your car?”

  “Dad’s gone to Hobart for the annual farming expo. Not that he goes to the expo much. It’s more a get-together with some friends he’s made over the years.”

  “That’s right, I remember my dad mentioning the expo this weekend,” Jeremy said, more to himself than to Hollie. “Anyway, I’d better get the directions from you again. I sort of had different things on my mind last time I dropped you off.”

  Hollie rolled her eyes. “Not funny.”

  She told him the way to the farm.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam leaned back and enjoyed the scenery. She loved the coast during the winter season. Large waves crashed onto the beaches and rocks. Trees tried to withstand the wind and the snow-covered fields glowed in the morning sun.

  She had always been fond of the countryside along the southern coast and cherished the reasonably short drive to the Shaughnessy house in Cork.

  Padraic placed his hand on her leg. “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Sam smiled. “Just living in the moment.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You’re worried.”

  “No. No—” She hesitated.

  “Yes, you are.” The corners of his mouth twitched in the attempt to hold back a smile. “I promise I’ll be a good boy. No drinks, just lots of walks, food, and love in front of the open fire.”

  She avoided his gaze and sighed. She would have given anything if that were how it was going to be. But in all fairness, he always kept his promises. That was probably why there had been so few of them in their relationship.

  He put his finger under her chin and moved her head back to face him.

  “Please don’t worry, Sam,” he almost whispered. “A glass of wine and I’ll stop.”

  “Lots of love to produce an heir, I suppose.” She had no idea why she said that and regretted it instantly.

  Padraic slowed down and stopped at the side of the road. He met her gaze dead on. “Where on earth did that one come from? Did you listen to my conversation with Dad?”

  “I didn’t listen. One can’t help but overhear the abrasive voice your dad has.”

  Padraic’s breathing became heavy and laboured. “There’s no need for sarcasm.”

  “There’s no sarcasm. It’s a fact. Your dad’s voice echoes through the whole house, and you know that.”

  He took a deep breath and placed his arm around her shoulder. “Honey, if you overheard the conversation, I’m sure you also must have heard me telling Dad the decision to defer the whole parenthood issue was mutual.” His lips touched her cheeks. “Honey?”

  He placed his hand on her cheek, and she tilted her head into his palm. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I think I’m just worried…about us…about…I’m just not sure what’s happening.”

  She turned towards him and tried to find her composure again. We can sort this through, but not with weakness.

  “I love you, Sam. I know I’m not perfect, but I do try to give you the best you deserve.” Padraic leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Brushing another gentle kiss across her forehead he whispered, “We’ll have a grand time. Trust me.”

  ****

  After lunch in Dungarvan, they arrived at the beach house early in the afternoon. Sam loved the house and always had since the first time Padraic had taken her there. She remembered it so clearly.

  She’d stared at the house. “What?” Padraic had asked when he saw her shaking her head.

  With a shrug, she’d replied, “Nothing.”

  “And then there was nothing. Sam, what is it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…it’s…well, I imagined the Shaughnessy beach house to be bigger,” Sam had answered, turning her face towards the house. �
�This is more what I’d call a small cottage.”

  Her mouth curved into a smile at the memory. She stepped inside as Padraic took the bags out of the car.

  The house, or cottage, as she referred to it, had been completely redecorated and furnished with traditional furniture. The large living room, with the extravagance of a big plasma television, had a large open fire, which her husband tried to light straightaway. Through the living room were the small kitchen and three small bedrooms, as well as the bathroom. When Padraic’s dad had bought the house a few years earlier, he had a glass-enclosed terrace built—with a view over the Celtic Sea.

  She threw the bags into the bedroom, wrapped herself up in her winter coat, and put on her beanie.

  “Are you coming?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Are you coming?” She reached out for his hand. “There’s no way I'll let the sun go down without my usual walk along the beach.”

  Padraic grinned and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go then.”

  They weathered the cold wind outside and made their way to the beach. The breeze seemed to pick up a bit as they made their way down the little road and through the small park onto the beach esplanade.

  As Sam gazed across the ocean, she inhaled the fresh air. It stung her lungs, but it was the best medicine to clear her mind. She turned to look at Padraic, who placed his arm around her shoulder. An inner happiness overcame her, and she wished for time to stand still, for the moment never to leave.

  Padraic spoiled her with a beautiful dinner later that evening. She loved the Mediterranean cuisine, and the prosciutto salmon with pasta he had prepared was one of her favourite dishes—served with a glass of wine before they made themselves comfortable sitting in front of the fire, with Sam cuddling into his arms.