Someone Else's Dream

by Colin Griffiths

  It was like someone had just come from nowhere to inflict the pain on her that she had felt. She felt vulnerable as she sobbed; vulnerable and alone. She lived in a nice peaceful village on route to the Doncaster town centre. Her purse had not been taken or anything stolen. Whoever had done this, had done it purely to hurt her and that pained her more than the injuries she’d suffered.

  It was early afternoon when he stuck his head around the cubicle of the ward Marcia was lying in. She could see the grapes in his hand along with a box of chocolates. She immediately thought it would be a while before she was able to eat them, but it was nice to see a friendly face she recognised, despite the awkwardness that may occur.

  “Dinner!” was his first word. Marcia wanted to laugh but she couldn’t, it would hurt too much, but it did make her relax a little. She briefly recalled their exploits and at that moment, she wished she was in his arms now, naked and safe and not beaten.

  Matt stopped for an hour. With difficulty, she told him what happened, as he sat on the edge of the bed. He gently kissed her forehead before he left, telling her to text him when she was allowed home and he would pick her up. Marcia thought it was a sweet thing to do until he had bent down to kiss her. That aftershave! It was a familiar smell. She laughed to herself when she thought of it, she had been having rampant sex with him for two days.

  Still beaten and bruised, with pain racking her head, she drifted off into a dreamy sleep. She dreamt of dark alleys, with a distinctive smell of aftershave.

  * * *

  After a morning at the Garden Centre, having decided to go to work after all and visiting Marcia at the hospital, Matt got himself off home. After having a shower and a naked conversation with himself in the mirror, he cooked himself some pasta. He had noticed the half-full medicine bottle in the waste bin and he took the container out and placed it back in the cabinet. He didn’t take any, as he was sure he was okay without them, but it brought him some comfort knowing they were there if he needed them.

  Matt was a bit of a loner, preferring to have associates rather than friends. He always had plenty of those, even during the years that he was married. He knew a lot of people in his local pub, people he would say ‘hi’ to and pass the time of day with. He was a likeable chap in the village and would be more often than not be seen, stood at the bar, chatting with the ladies. He was very much a ladies man. He was always chasing a dream when he was young and he thought he had caught it when his wife and daughter had come along.

  He soon awoke from that dream, however, realising it was someone else’s. Then the tablets had seemed to take all his dreams away, until now. No one knew of his strict religious childhood, nor would Matt ever share that childhood with anyone, other than the demons that still remained in his head.

  He ate his pasta in the lounge of his large home, the tray of food sat on his lap. He was distraught, in some ways, after seeing Marcia at the hospital. It had been a shock to him when he saw how badly she had been beaten. He wondered what she had done to deserve such a beating. Perhaps she led someone on? He thought.

  Washed his plate in the kitchen, he sat back on his sofa, staring at his small desk in the corner. On it lay his laptop and two books stacked on top of each other; the unread Stephen King novel and the novel by rookie author Carla Reid. Walking to his computer, he picked up the Carla Reid book and looked at the author picture on the back, stroking the picture with his thumb. A feeling overcame him, a feeling that somehow he had to meet this girl. She would be the answer to his dreams, indeed, the end of his nightmares.

  What’s she got that I haven’t? He thought. He put the book in his bookcase on the bottom shelf. He would grade them like that. His bookcase had five shelves. Each shelf would signify a rating. Five stars for the top shelf, down to one star for the bottom. Carla Reid’s ‘Charlotte’s Dream’ lay on the bottom. He booted up his laptop, printed out the first chapter of his novel and sat and read it; marking with a highlighter and noting any errors, he found, or changes he wanted to make. It felt that he had rushed it and needed to spread it out a little, give it some more thought.

  After he had highlighted the changes necessary, he got out the congratulations card that he had bought earlier. On it, he wrote;

  ‘To Dale and Hayleigh.’

  ‘Congratulations on your good news and forthcoming marriage, love Matt.’

  He stared at the words for a moment, before adding; ‘What a lovely way to be told.’

  He put a stamp on it and left the house to post it. The night was drawing in; he fancied a walk and a pint. He was feeling good. Life was picking up. There was something in the air that told him things were going to change.

  * * *

  After telling her ex-husband the news of her pregnancy, Hayleigh Conner’s days and hours were racked with guilt. She lived on the outskirts of Hatfield, a small town in Doncaster, with a population of just over sixteen thousand. Her husband to be, Dale Simpson, was fifteen years older than Hayleigh at forty-seven. This was to be the second marriage for both of them. Dale having two grown up children. Dale was the senior partner in the law firm Hayleigh worked for; an office affair turning into something far more significant.

  They were both delighted that Hayleigh had become pregnant. Hayleigh, at first, feeling the guilt; of perhaps trying to replace her first daughter, but that never would be the case. In Hayleigh’s mind, no one could replace Aimee. To some extent having the blessing of her ex-husband who had told her she would have Aimee’s blessing, lessened the guilt and allowed her to look forward to the baby. But now she had a further guilt, one that was racking through her body at such a rate she sometimes thought she would burst; that of sleeping with her ex. It wasn’t intentional; she’d certainly had no plans of doing it. She had just wanted to do him the courtesy of being told personally about her pregnancy. Her husband told her it was the right thing to do.

  Seeing him there in the house had brought back so many memories. It was the house they both brought Aimee up in. It felt that everything was like it used to be, when she’d made love to him. It was like she had been taken back in time and at that time no one else existed other than him and her; it felt like that when they made love.

  There was something different about him at that time, it was like he was the Matt she’d fell in love with and had his child. It was only when she was sat in her car, pulling away from the home she once shared with Matt did it dawn on her what she had done and now the guilt was cutting her up inside. She had been drawn into his world, once again and this time, she was hating it. She somehow knew this wouldn’t be the last she would hear of it. Matt would never let go now.

  Dale and Hayleigh were sitting in the kitchen of their four-bedroomed, lavishly furnished, detached house. The kitchen was their favourite room; the dining table was a large mahogany antique piece of furniture, highly polished, which seemed to reflect everything in the kitchen, including those that sat at it. The chairs were high-backed, but padded and luxuriously comfortable. It looked out into the garden, through two large patios doors and the extravagant garden was vast, with herbaceous borders and a large fish pond full of koi. The pond would be lit up at night, casting the shadows of rippling water over the house.

  Most nights they would sit there, sharing their glass of wine after dinner. Tonight was no exception as they sat next to each other; a television quietly showing News at Ten, stood on one of the kitchen worktops. The guilt racking through her mind like a headache that would not ease, she knew painkillers would not release her of this particular pain. She just wanted to forget it, put it at the back of her mind, but, her mind wouldn’t let her. She stared through the patio doors, along with her husband to be.

  “Did you see that?” she suddenly squealed. Dale, who was staring out the window, in his own world of work and legal cases, jumped from his thoughts, almost spilling his wine as he did so.

  “See what?”

  “There’s someone out there,” she said, “See!” she added, as the shadow coul
d clearly be seen passing one of the lights around the fish pond. Dale got up. He did see it and opened the patio doors, shouting obscenities while running into the garden, just as the intruder climbed over the six-foot wall, where he had obviously come from. Dale, convinced he had gone, went back to the kitchen.

  “Bloody kids, I bet they’re after the koi; the bastards!” he told Hayleigh.

  “Have they gone?” she asked nervously, still staring out of the patio doors.

  “Yeah, they’ve gone; we won’t be seeing them again.”

  Hayleigh involuntarily shivered and a feeling came over her body; a feeling that told her the words of her husband to be, were somehow, in vain. He won’t let go now! She repeatedly told herself.

  * * *

  “You don’t look much better,” Matt told her; “in fact you look worse.”

  And she did, Marcia’s eye was now completely closed and her lip swollen and split. It was the bruises coming out that made it look worse. Her pretty face was temporary blighted by her unknown attacker. She was just thankful there was nothing broken and no lasting damage. She knew she would heal; what she didn’t know was how long it would take for the memories to fade.

  Matt had just come to pick her up after she had been given the all-clear, by the doctor. Marcia’s parents lived in Sheffield, a fair journey from the Doncaster hospital where she was treated. Matt was only a ten-minute drive away and he did live just down the road from her. She had text him asking him to pick her up and within twenty minutes he was there. She sat silently, on the short drive home, her face was still pounding as the painkillers she had been given appeared to be wearing off. She was feeling a little bit awkward after rejecting his request for ‘dinner’, but Matt’s demeanour didn’t give off any animosity and she was thankful for that. By the time she got home she was thinking how nice it was he had lusted after her and her feelings towards him came rushing back to what they were previously.

  She felt guilty now for rejecting his offer though she did wonder why he hadn’t really bothered with her for three years, it was as if suddenly he was let loose. She’d thought, to sleep with him all those years ago, would have been just a one off. He had been vulnerable and she had taken advantage. She wondered what had suddenly changed. The truth was, nothing had changed with Matt, he had just returned to being the man he’d used to be. People would see him as charming until they saw what it really was about him; deep and confused.

  As she got out of the car to her flat, she smiled, thinking, as soon as she was more presentable she might text him ‘desert’. She needed that comfort, the closeness and attention he gave her, though by the look of her face she thought it might be a while before she became desirable again.

  Marcia opened the outer door of her ground-floor flat, by punching in a code. Matt stood and watched and they both walked into the foyer where she fumbled in her bag for her keys before opening her flat door. Matt was still behind her.

  “I’ll come in and make you a cuppa, make sure you got everything you want. I’ll pop down the shop, as well, if you need anything”. He wasn’t asking, he was telling her what he was going to do. It unnerved Marcia a little but she put it down to no more than he being helpful.

  “I just need a nice, hot, bath, Matt; though a decent cuppa wouldn’t go amiss. That stuff in the hospital is horrid. One sugar in a coffee, please. The milk still should be okay.”

  “I’ll bring some over later,” Matt told her. Marcia appreciated the offer and the kindness, but she wanted to be on her own; just have a nice bath and a good night’s sleep. It all felt a little too much.

  “No really, I don’t drink much, I just need an early night.” Matt didn’t answer. Marcia sat in the lounge whilst Matt was in the kitchen making coffee. She wished he would go, so she could take the coffee in the bath with her. She wanted to wash away that disinfectant smell of the hospital, along with the memories of the attack. It had been two days now, since she bathed.

  “Can’t find the sugar,” she heard Matt shout out. Sluggishly, she got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen. She brushed past him and Matt raised his hand and felt her breast for just a second. Marcia stopped in shock and looked at Matt who was smiling.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he smiled, very apologetically, but the look in his eye told Marcia different. She wanted to put it down as an accident and that’s what she did although she momentarily wondered when it was, she had given him a free licence to grope her. Maybe that’s exactly what I have done!

  They drank their coffee without further incident and Marcia thought nothing more of it. Matt knew it wasn’t an accident; what he had done, was instinctive. If it wasn’t for her injuries he would have done more. She was his now, after all, he told himself

  Marcia saw him to the door and as she did so, she noticed a young couple through the outer door just about to press her buzzer. Marcia recognised them as her friends and pressed her keypad on the wall to let them in. Before anyone could say anything Matt strolled swiftly towards the young couple in their early twenties.

  “She’s not having any visitors,” he said, with a tone of authority. He looked as if he was going to literally escort them out of the foyer, as he ushered them with his arms until Marcia stopped him. The young couple looked quite alarmed; they had no idea who he was. They had heard Marcia was out of the hospital and were just visiting to see if she needed anything.

  “It’s okay, they’re my best friends,” she told Matt. Matt who was just about to push them back out through the door, stopped and looked at Marcia. She felt uncomfortable with the witheringly stern look on his face. It was as if he was saying, ‘he did not approve’.

  Matt turned to the couple; “Okay, but don’t keep her long,” he told them and left.

  “Who’s that?” the girl asked, as they went back into Marcia’s flat. “Your minder?”

  “I am beginning to wonder!” answered Marcia. The truth was, she wasn’t really sure just who he was, anymore.

  Thirty minutes later, with her friends departed, she was soaking in a bath full of bubbles, just glad to be home.

  * * *

  Marcia woke to the sound of the door buzzer. She had slept well and for a moment, she forgot about her attack and her badly swollen face until she put her legs out of the bed and the pain hit the left-hand side of her face.

  She threw her dressing gown on and looked at the camera in her hallway. Her heart dropped for a moment when she saw who it was. Thinking she had better let him in, she pressed the buzzer for the outer door to open. She left the door to her flat on the latch, as an invitation for her visitor to come in. She was in the small kitchen when he came through.

  “I’m just making a coffee, do you want one?” she asked.

  “I’ll do that,” Matt said, as he put two bulging bags of shopping on the counter. “Go sit down and I’ll bring it in.” Marcia poured herself a glass of water and took it into her lounge, along with some painkillers. She didn’t want to argue or insist she was okay; she just wanted coffee and for him to go. She guessed he would be staying for one, though. She curled up on the sofa and started dozing.

  She thought she must have fallen asleep as a gentle tug on her shoulder woke her up. Matt was stood beside her, but on the table was a steaming mug of coffee and a full English breakfast. For a moment, she looked shocked and confused.

  “You’ve got to eat and I guessed you wouldn’t feel like cooking. If you have a big breakfast and just snack all day, well then, that’s okay, I won’t have to worry about you then.”

  Marcia looked up at Matt and then at the big breakfast on the coffee table in front of her; she swung her legs around and sat up. It did look really tasty. She grabbed the food, putting it on her lap and picked up the knife and fork.

  “I picked up some groceries for you, there’s a couple of micro meals there, not very healthy but easy to do.” He gave her a smile as she took her first bite of a sausage.

  “Didn’t you do yourself any?” she asked
. Her face cringed a bit as she tried to chew the sausage.

  “Take little bites and no, I’ve got to go,” he walked towards the door, “If you want anything, just text.”

  Marcia couldn’t believe he was being so nice and kind. The day before she’d felt really uncomfortable with him and now here he was looking after her, as if his life depended on it. “It won’t be ‘dessert’,” she mocked; quickly realising what was supposed to be funny was probably one of the misappropriate things she had ever said.

  Matt turned around to face her. “I’m really sorry for texting you ‘dinner’ so soon, I was being inconsiderate.” He had a sorry look on his face and Marcia’s heart went out to him.

  “That’s fine,” she said. “Maybe when I’m better hey?” she smiled. Matt smiled along with her and Marcia felt her heart miss a beat.

  “Just text me if you want anything and I don’t mean ‘dessert’,” he laughed. Marcia wanted to laugh but her face was preventing her.

  “Thank you, Matt,” she said.

  “What are friends for eh? I’ll pop round to see you tomorrow,” he told her and left.