Dream a Little Dream

by Sue Moorcroft

  Liza glared people out of her way, eyes of ice daring anyone to comment. ‘Rochelle!’ she hissed, when she reached them. ‘What the fucking hell am I supposed to be? Some kind of insect slut?’

  Rochelle gurgled. ‘You’re a hornet! Isn’t it amazing? I knew only you’d be small enough to get into it. And if you knew how hot you look, you’d be sending me a thank-you card. Doesn’t she look hot?’ she appealed to Dominic and Kenny.

  ‘Yes,’ they croaked.

  Dominic cleared his throat. ‘So what’s with the thing at the back?’

  Liza half-turned to exhibit the black rubber bulb around her buttocks. ‘I think that’s my abdomen and stinger. This dress takes short to a new level, Rochelle! It’s so tight and rubbery, it’s like wearing an innertube. And about as comfortable.’

  Rochelle gave a bewildered shrug. ‘But, Liza. You. Look. Hot.’

  ‘Let’s get you a drink, and then you’ll get in the party spirit.’ Kenny offered Liza his arm. ‘Wizard’s brew, bat’s blood or dragon’s puke?’

  ‘Water.’

  Kenny looked horrified. ‘What’s that?’

  She grinned, reluctantly. ‘Comes out of a tap. It’s what I drink. That’s how come you can drink wizard’s brew and I can drive Dominic’s tank home.’

  ‘Actually, that works for me.’ He pulled her hand through his arm and steered her off towards the kitchen, leaving Dominic to be mesmerised as her abdomen and stinger wiggled away. He flicked his cloak back around himself. Men in tights had to be discreet.

  The room just got fuller and fuller. Noisier and noisier. Hotter and hotter.

  Liza, though hardly able to breathe, got used to allowing room for the wings and stinger that formed the least comfortable parts of the clinging costume. Kenny was intent on impressing her with his American adventures. Nearby, Dominic cast her the occasional unreadable look, trident resting negligently on his shoulder, tail hooked fetchingly over one arm. She tried not to look at his chest, luminous, naked and sculptured in the light produced by the dozens of candles and lamps that Rochelle deemed suitable to the occasion. His cloak fell red and sinuous down his back and she was getting the full effect of the Lycra skimming his hips and … things, before it disappeared into knee-high black boots. People accepted making fools of themselves as part of the Halloween fancy dress fun. But Dominic didn’t look foolish. ‘Awesome’ was the word that kept flashing across her mind.

  Kenny was dressed almost exactly like Dominic. He was good-looking, with his outdoor tan, told fantastic stories about his time in the States and even demonstrated his social graces by remembering to ask her about herself. But he didn’t look awesome. ‘So,’ she asked, idly, ‘why do you call Dominic “Doc”?’

  Kenny leaned closer so that she caught the sweet/sour smell of wizard’s brew on his breath. ‘When we were kids, we had to have our initials on school stuff and he’s Dominic Osborne Christy. But, also, ’cos he’s just too fucking clever.’ He beamed, as if he expected to be congratulated on drawing the conclusion. ‘He always was clever, right through school. Much cleverer than me.’ And he began on a stream of memories and anecdotes of the days when young Dominic, Kenny and Miranda had scuffed along to school together, ‘Although Miranda was the year above, and bossy,’ and how he and Dominic had vied for the school sports prizes. ‘Dominic, he’s good for a sprint. But I can stay the distance.’ A big, lascivious wink.

  Liza didn’t react. ‘And did you know Natalie?’ It was only polite to keep the conversational ball rolling. It wasn’t that she was curious about Dominic’s ex …

  He threw back his cloak and staggered slightly. ‘Natalie? She was always going to let him down. But how do you tell someone something like that?’ And he steered the conversation back to his experiences on North Carolina wilderness trails, eyes blurring as he sucked down wizard’s brew.

  Liza let her attention wander. Candles were guttering, now, their growing and shrinking shadows emphasising the wobbliness of some of the drinkers. She came back to herself with a jolt when Kenny hooked his hand around her waist, causing the stupid wire of the wings to bite into her flesh.

  ‘Ow!’ She grabbed the fabric to counter the weight.

  Kenny moved in, dipping his head. Over the noise, she caught the end of a sentence: ‘—as sexy as you.’

  Oh … don’t think so! On full unwanted-kiss-alert, she jammed her free hand against his chest and pushed, but met the human wall of shoulders behind her, making the wings jab her from a new angle. ‘Ow! Kenny—’

  ‘Would now be a good time to talk?’

  Her head whipped around. Like a ninja in Lycra, Dominic had appeared beside her. Thankfully, she pried off Kenny’s arm. ‘Yes, now would be great.’

  ‘Doc! Dom!’ protested Kenny, swaying chummily up against Liza.

  But Dominic somehow turned himself into a barrier with Liza one side and Kenny the other, allowing her to make a getaway. Once in the tiny hall alcove, where the temperature was a degree cooler and the noise a decibel less, she paused to let him catch up. The doors to the kitchen and bathroom stood open, the one to Rochelle’s bedroom was shut, a stern notice declaring the room Strictly out of bounds. Trespassers will be sent home.

  He stooped to put his mouth close to her ear, and his breath stirred her hair. ‘OK?’

  ‘Yes. Thanks. You arrived at a good time.’

  ‘I guessed that by your expression. Ken can get a bit enthusiastic.’

  She grinned, reluctantly. ‘Just a bit.’ Dominic’s naked chest was inches from her face so she fidgeted at the shrink-wrapped dress to avoid looking at his musculature, checking that her – not especially substantial – underwear was covered, thinking dark thoughts in Rochelle’s direction. She’d never worn anything less comfortable in her life, especially with that stupid bustle making her feel as if she had an inflatable bum.

  ‘I got “the call” from Nicolas this afternoon. With what he wants for the lease.’

  She nodded glumly, her gratitude at his rescue disappearing, phht.

  He stepped aside to let a skeleton into the bathroom. ‘Shall we compare notes? I think he’s come in way too high.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  He sighed, pulling the end of his tail out of the path of a vampire making for the kitchen. ‘Now you’ve shown interest, he thinks he has leverage and I don’t know if I can get him down.’

  She glared indignantly, which might at least disguise how much Nicolas’s figure had shocked and scared her. ‘And if you hadn’t shown interest he would never have come up with such a stupid number.’

  Slowly, he closed his eyes, and leaned back against the wall.

  Oh crap. Liza felt sudden compunction. She laid reassuring fingers on his arm. Warm. ‘Do you need to sleep? I can drive you home straight away. Or Rochelle will probably let you rest in her room.’

  His eyes flipped opened. ‘I’m not sleepy, I’m counting to ten, you bloody annoying woman.’

  She snatched her fingers away. ‘You turn up out of the blue and expect me to disappear my business out of your way, and I’m annoying?’

  He took a long, slow breath. ‘OK,’ he said, neutrally. ‘Let’s just accept that we both want the other to back off.’

  ‘And neither of us is going to. But,’ she couldn’t resist adding, ‘morally, you should, because I’m the one already in situ, who’ll lose money during the process of relocation. Whereas all you have to do is find somewhere else to set up. You’ve invested no dosh.’ She folded her arms. Then quickly unfolded them, because pulling the elastic sheath tight threatened to catapult her boobs into the middle of the argument.

  ‘All I have to do? Like spaces suitable for action-and-challenge centres are ten a penny and an investment of time is of no consequence? That costume is totally distracting, by the way.’ His gaze, more pewter than silver in the dim light, flickered south for a moment.

  ‘How do you think I feel?’ Then she blushed because she didn’t really want to admit that she found his costume distr
acting, too. ‘About investing time, I mean.’ She tried to take a deep, calming breath, but couldn’t because of the dress. It was making her feel smothered, her skin moistening under its rubbery embrace, her heart pulsing as if it were trying to find room to beat. Unless that was Dominic—

  A line of people began to filter past into the kitchen, and one was Rochelle, swaying on her spike heels, ducking the noose that hung from the ceiling. ‘Dominic!’ She settled her silver-taloned hand on his bicep. ‘Weren’t we talking about dinner?’

  And then Kenny was there, too, clutching an empty glass. ‘We could make it a foursome, Liza.’

  Liza’s eyes flicked to Dominic. He was frowning. And, this time, he didn’t rescue her from Kenny. Instead, he shrugged. ‘Sounds OK.’

  So she shrugged, too. ‘Could be fun.’ Deliberately, she turned away, drifting into the main room to talk to an insane clown.

  Midnight. Rochelle and Angie were trying to organise some witching-hour game involving blindfolds, wet rubber gloves and peeled grapes; Kenny had stumbled off somewhere. Dominic had been watching Liza mingling with vampires and mummies until she’d disappeared into the kitchen and re-emerged with a steaming mug of something. He watched her body move on an enormous sigh and obeyed the pull he’d been trying to resist since she’d proved so unreasonable about the lease.

  ‘We can leave any time you want,’ he said, joining her in the doorway.

  Her eyebrows rose. ‘Lightweight.’ Then, ‘Oh … yes, we can leave if—’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he stressed. ‘It’s you who’s making with the huge sighs.’

  ‘I’m fine, too.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He hesitated. ‘I need to tell you something about Kenny.’

  Her grin flashed. ‘I would have thought Kenny’s told me pretty much everything there is to tell.’

  He gave her a rueful look. ‘Annoyingly enough, he doesn’t tell lies. He really does the white-water rafting, potholing, skydiving, running and everything else. It’s impressive. I just feel I need to warn you – he’s probably after no-strings sex.’

  She pulled a stricken face. ‘Now I feel I have to warn you – so’s Rochelle!’

  The ludicrousness of the conversation suddenly struck him. He laughed. ‘Oh, OK. I didn’t mean to—’

  But Liza’s attention had flicked away from him like a whip. Her eyes had become round and apprehensive and were fixed on a point behind him.

  And then she removed herself from the room. Stepping backwards as if over landmines, silently feeling behind her for the handle to Rochelle’s bedroom door. Turning it. Back, back, through. Door closed. Gone.

  Dominic blinked. Then turned to identify what had sent her to ground.

  A lanky figure stood some yards behind him, dark eyes staring from the hood of an artistically ragged black cloak. Rochelle and Angie were gazing across the room in horror, exchanging urgent whispers. Rochelle switched her gaze to Dominic. ‘Where’s Liza?’ she mouthed.

  Minutely, Dominic indicated the bedroom. Rochelle mimed heart-clutching relief, then pointed at the newcomer, mouthing, ‘That’s Adam.’

  Nodding his understanding, Dominic shifted so that he was leaning against the door that Liza had shut behind her, watching as the hooded figure drifted around the room like a Ringwraith, body loose but eyes sharp and searching, peering into corners. Long hands emerged from the cloak and pushed back the hood, revealing a sensitive, intelligent face and a mop of fair, collar-length hair. A few people greeted him but he just smiled and prowled on. Closer, closer.

  Then he was hovering only a couple of feet away, glancing into the kitchen and the bathroom. His eyes settled on Dominic. Then shifted to the closed bedroom door.

  Dominic waved his devil’s trident. ‘Sorry, mate. Someone’s getting changed.’

  Adam nodded and turned to push the kitchen door more fully open, then a laughing group clutching full glasses barrelled out, sweeping him briefly back into the main room.

  Dominic opened the bedroom door and slid through. ‘It’s Dominic.’

  The whole room seemed to relax on an exhale. He moved in the direction it had come from, picking out Liza’s shape in front of the window. ‘Was Adam invited?’ He kept his voice low.

  ‘No! He knows that Rochelle has a Halloween party every year, though. I suppose he invited himself.’

  Now he could see the gleam of her eyes in the city light that filtered through the curtains. ‘Are you … scared of him?’

  ‘Not scared of him. Of course not. I just don’t want—’ Her voice broke.

  ‘—your nose rubbing in his problems?’

  ‘—his pain. I’m scared of his pain and what it might make him do. It’s already made him do … what he did. To his wrist.’

  ‘Pain’s a part of life,’ he said, sombrely. ‘We all suffer it, learn to live with it. You can’t let his pain control you.’

  Silence. Then, bleakly, ‘Some people learn to live with things. But others obsess. Destructively. Unpredictably. He’s in a bad place and I’m struggling with the knowledge that I could change that, if I just let things slide back to how they were before.’

  ‘That’s no answer! He needs real help.’ For the first time, he realised how petal-soft a heart was encased in that fiery little body. She hid it well. He put a comforting hand on her arm, gently, barely touching. ‘And so do you. You need support in refusing to take responsibility for him. Do you want me to help?’

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘How?’ It was a ridiculous idea that he could. But they were in a ridiculous situation, huddling together in the dark in Rochelle’s strictly out-of-bounds bedroom whilst Adam haunted the party.

  He shrugged, and his warm naked chest brushed her arm. ‘We go out there and act like a couple. Let him see that you’ve moved on.’

  She inched back in case the naked flesh touched her again. But she couldn’t bring herself to step completely out of the warm cell of air that seemed to surround him, the scents of alcohol and shower gel mingling. ‘How?’

  He sighed with exaggerated patience. ‘I put my arms around you, kiss you, whisper in your ear—’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot!’ She did step away. Right away. Into a cool space where Dominic wasn’t overheating everything, sucking her in.

  ‘It’s pragmatic. A clear signal, an opportunity for him to back off with no loss of face. Or you could cower in here indefinitely.’ A pause. His voice softened. ‘Or just greet him like an old friend then move on to chat with others. Won’t he get the message?’

  ‘It sounds reasonable when you say it.’

  ‘Because it is. Give the guy a chance to get over you, Liza. Hiding away from him might be feeding his fantasies that you have a future. He’s probably reasoning that if only he could talk to you, he could undo all the bad that happened.’

  She stood in the darkness, heart thudding uneasily. Trying to ‘visualise what success would look like’, as Cleo would say. Adam, maybe looking sad, but accepting they had no future. Perhaps being bitter or angry but going away. Leaving her to a life not controlled by guilt. She took in a long, slow breath. ‘You’re right.’ She began to cross the room, aware that he was moving through the darkness beside her. ‘It’ll be OK. Adam is an intelligent guy and—’ Dominic reached around her to open the door and Liza let out a yip of surprise.

  Adam lurked in the hallway like a servant of the Dark Lord, flickering candlelight illuminating the folds of his cloak. Behind him, Rochelle and Angie were in the centre of a huddle of people passing around objects from a black bin liner amidst shrieks and laughter. ‘Hello,’ Adam said, smiling painfully. His eyes rested for several long seconds on Dominic, then returned to Liza. ‘I’ve been looking for you, Lize. To talk.’

  She swallowed. Misery and guilt swooshed over her as she met his brown eyes and saw hurt a mile deep. Hurt she’d caused. When he lifted his hand to push back his hair, his left sleeve fell back. Two pink scars lay on his arm like accusati
ons: the self-inflicted one across the wrist, the other, the repair, bisecting it. Ugly shiny pink worms. Tears ached in her throat.

  Adam glanced at Dominic. ‘Me and Lize are going to talk.’

  Dominic ignored the hint that he should leave. ‘Really?’

  Liza licked her lips. ‘There’s nothing we need to say that we can’t say in front of other people, Adam.’

  Adam didn’t get angry. He didn’t really do angry. He just got sadder. ‘There’s loads. We need to get our relationship back on track.’

  Dismay fluttered into her throat. ‘We can’t.’

  His lines in his face grew deeper, longer; his mouth set itself to stubborn. ‘We can. I’m not involved with anyone else and neither are you.’

  Liza’s vision of reason and rationale bringing success dissolved and she grasped instantly at Dominic’s stupid, half-baked, crappy, simplistic, but possibly effective, idea. ‘I am involved. With Dominic.’ She slid her arm around Dominic’s waist.

  Adam’s eyes turned down in panic. ‘You’re not!’

  Lazily, Dominic scooped Liza up against his side, snuggling her there as if he knew how their bodies fitted together. Which was pretty well, actually, her shoulder under his arm, her breast pressed against the rack of his ribs. His hand hot on her hip. ‘I’m afraid we are, mate. When a couple rendezvous in a bedroom, it’s not usually about meaningful conversation.’

  A still, silent moment.

  Liza watched emotions war in Adam’s face, willing the longed-for acceptance to appear. Or even bitterness and anger. Instead, what she saw was grief. Black, swamping grief, deadening his eyes. Then he whirled and blundered through the rubber gloves and grapes game, and out of the door.

  Horror-movie possibilities blazed into Liza’s mind. Her feet twitched, as if they wanted to run after him. She felt Dominic’s arm tighten. ‘You’re not responsible,’ he reminded her, softly.

  She turned and flattened her palms against his chest, ready to thrust him away. ‘But he needs help.’