Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

‘Because,’ Matty said, in her best long-suffering voice, ‘some jerk of an agent, whom I happen to love very much by the way, got me a job on one of our nation’s top-rated series and I’m kind of committed now for the next four weeks. Of course, if this jerk of an agent, whom I happen to love, could get me out of the series she would be doing me a very great favour, ’cos getting upstaged by Marcia Glass every fucking two minutes isn’t my idea of fun, whereas London most definitely is. How long will you be gone?’

  Ellen was laughing. ‘Two, maybe three weeks,’ she answered. ‘Rosa’s taking over for me while I’m gone. It’s a shame we can’t find someone to take over for you.’

  ‘Next trip I’m there,’ Matty promised, ‘even if I have to beg the money from Uncle Frank.’

  The idea of Ellen’s father financing a fun trip for Matty was so absurd that they burst out laughing. At that moment the telephone rang.

  Ellen’s face instantly paled. ‘What if it’s Clay?’ she said, tightening her grip on Matty’s hands. ‘What am I going to say?’

  ‘Do you want me to answer?’ Matty offered.

  Ellen looked at her, clearly tempted. ‘No,’ she said in the end, ‘I’d better deal with it,’ and getting to her feet she walked to the bedside table and picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’ she said shakily. In her heart she was pleading with God for it to be him, even though she knew she was crazy even to think it.

  ‘Put it on speaker,’ Matty hissed.

  Obediently Ellen pushed the button as the voice at the other end said, ‘Hi, Ellen! It’s Joey! I’m not calling too late, am I? I heard you were going out of town for a couple of weeks, are you coming to New York? Can I fix it for the commercial?’

  Ellen turned to Matty. ‘Another time, Joey,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you,’ and she hung up.

  Matty watched her as she wandered back to the dressing-room to fetch more clothes from the closet. She took her time making a choice, then carried a couple of sweaters and a cocktail dress back to her suitcase.

  Though she hadn’t said so, Matty could sense her terrible disappointment that it hadn’t been Clay on the line. ‘Ellen,’ she said, catching her hand as she started to return to the closet.

  Ellen stopped, but didn’t look at her.

  ‘Honey, you’ve got to let it go now,’ Matty said as gently as she could. ‘He’s not worth it and in your heart you know it. So put it behind you and move on.’

  Ellen laughed drily. ‘Words are so easy,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ Matty replied. ‘So are dreams. It’s reality that’s hard, but you can do it, Ellen. You can get past this. And look on the bright side, you’re going to see London, you’ll probably meet a whole bunch of people really worth getting to know and for a couple of weeks, at least, all this is going to seem like part of another world. So relax and go have yourself a good time. And who knows, you’ll probably be calling me up in a week’s time to tell me you’ve fallen madly in love with some English lord who you don’t have to fake it with, the way you did with Clay.’

  Ellen’s eyes closed in dismay. ‘Matty, I swear it, right now I wouldn’t mind if I never had sex again in my life, never mind an orgasm.’

  ‘Tell me that in a month and I might believe you.’ Matty smiled, slanting her eyes towards a cutting of McCann that was lying loosely on the bed. ‘There again,’ she added, ‘I might not.’

  Chapter 10

  ‘HEY, LOOK AT the champ,’ Michael laughed, taking his sleepy, two-day-old nephew from his sister’s arms and holding him at arm’s length to get a good look.

  Colleen stood beside him and resting her head on his shoulder gazed adoringly at her new son.

  ‘He’s just like me when I was his age,’ Billy, her three-year-old, told Michael, looking earnestly up at his uncle from his little standpoint of two feet eight. ‘Nana said. She said Charlie is like me, and I am like you and Daddy which can only mean trouble. Can I come up too?’

  ‘Please,’ Colleen reminded him.

  ‘Please,’ he repeated.

  Laughing, Michael scooped him up in his other arm and carried both nephews through the jumble of toys, changing mats and casually dumped clothes, to the sofa. Dan, his brother-in-law and partner, was on the other sofa making sure Tierney, his five-year-old daughter, was getting her share of attention.

  ‘So, are you pregnant again yet?’ Michael asked Colleen, as he stretched out on the sofa with the two boys on top of him. ‘Nice one, Charlie,’ he remarked, as the baby threw up on his shoulder and Billy started to bounce dangerously close to his groin.

  Colleen’s vivid blue eyes were dancing with laughter as she swept her unruly black curls back from her face while she sponged off Michael’s sweater and Michael kept a firm hand on Billy. ‘He says he’s not up to it yet,’ she told him, nodding towards Dan. ‘Give me a break, he says, I’ve only just given birth. Oh, and it was a terrible time you had in the hospital, was it not, my darling?’ she teased, going over to tweak Dan’s nose. ‘All those nurses making such a fuss of you.’

  ‘It was hell,’ Dan agreed with feeling. ‘I swear I’m never going through it again.’

  ‘Mummy, can I feed Charlie next time?’ Tierney asked.

  ‘What, with those little boobies?’ Colleen laughed.

  ‘Tell her you’ve got lovely boobies,’ Dan said, wincing as Tierney twisted his sparse fair hair around her grandmother’s curlers. ‘It’s why I’m going bald, or so your mother tells me,’ he said to Michael. ‘I didn’t get enough of my mother’s milk.’

  ‘Clodagh said that?’ Michael laughed, looking across the sitting-room and through the dining-room to the small flower garden at the back where his mother and Cavan, who’d jetted in the night before for a flying birthday visit, were in earnest reunion. Earnest reunion in Clodagh’s language meant a serious ticking off for not respecting his mother sufficiently to stay in one place long enough for her to look it up in the atlas. Michael grinned when he saw the look on his brother’s face, for as adult and independent as he’d become, there was no arguing with Clodagh and he knew it. Then, to Michael’s great amusement, Cavan suddenly stopped his mother mid-sentence by sweeping her into his arms and treating her to a resounding kiss. It was a gesture so typical of Michael that he laughed out loud. Not only did Cavan, with his long, untidy dark hair, intense navy eyes and devastating smile, look like his older brother, he was starting to behave like him too.

  ‘Uncle Michael?’ Billy said from atop Michael’s head.

  ‘Yes Billy,’ Michael replied.

  ‘Can we play soldiers up in my bedroom?’

  ‘You’ve got soldiers! In your bedroom!’ Michael exclaimed.

  Billy’s face lit up. ‘Can we go and play with them?’ he said. ‘Charlie can’t come, he’s too little.’

  ‘Can I come?’ Tierney cried, leaping down from her father’s knee and tearing a curler from his hair as she went.

  ‘Tierney, go steady,’ Colleen told her, stretching her legs out in front of her as she relaxed in a giant armchair. ‘Daddy doesn’t have much as it is and you’ve just taken half of it.’

  Tierney looked confused.

  ‘Give Charlie to Mummy,’ Billy instructed Michael, starting to push the baby away.

  ‘Give Charlie to Daddy,’ Colleen corrected. ‘Are you cooking dinner, Michael? Clodagh said you were.’

  ‘Clodagh’s full of it today,’ Michael commented, passing the baby over to Dan.

  ‘Stay the night and have a drink,’ Colleen said, as he swung Tierney in the air and made her laugh with delight.

  ‘Daddy, I want you to play soldiers too,’ Billy said, pulling his dad’s arm.

  ‘What about Charlie?’ Dan replied. ‘We can’t leave him on his own with Mummy, she might take him back.’

  ‘Can you put him back in your tummy?’ Tierney asked, looking wide-eyed at her mother.

  ‘Come and give your mummy a kiss,’ Colleen said, holding out her arms.

  Michael carried his niece over and depositing her on Co
lleen’s lap, he allowed Billy to lead him out across the smart but cluttered entrance hall to the stairs.

  ‘And where might you two be off to?’ Clodagh demanded, coming in through the kitchen with Cavan behind her.

  ‘Nana, Uncle Michael’s going to play soldiers,’ Billy told her eagerly. ‘And then we might play Batman. I’ve got a Batman outfit now,’ he said to Michael. ‘Nana bought it for me, didn’t you, Nana?’

  ‘Spoiled rotten,’ Clodagh responded, her clear blue eyes sparkling with love as she looked at her grandson. She was a small woman with neat white hair, a wrinkled face and a love for her family that was only matched by theirs for her.

  ‘Do you think Nana would buy me one too?’ Cavan asked Billy. ‘If I’m a good boy.’

  Billy laughed. ‘You’d look silly in a Batman outfit, wouldn’t he Nana?’ he said.

  ‘Darling, he doesn’t need a Batman outfit to make him look silly,’ Clodagh responded.

  ‘He’s got a mother instead,’ Michael chipped in.

  Clodagh laughed and cuffed Cavan round the ear because Michael was out of reach. ‘I told our Colleen you were cooking dinner,’ she said to Michael. ‘Are you going to make your mother a liar?’

  Cavan burst out laughing. ‘She does it every time,’ he said, putting an arm around her.

  ‘You can help,’ Clodagh told him, ‘and I’ll take the kids upstairs to give our Colleen and Dan a bit of time to themselves before we eat.’

  ‘Are you angling for more grandchildren already?’ Michael teased.

  Clodagh fixed him with a look only Clodagh could give. ‘Well, if I waited around for you I’d be having to rise up from me grave to come visit them,’ she told him.

  ‘Give me a chance,’ he groaned, ‘I’ve only just learned how to do it.’

  ‘Do you think you could teach me?’ Cavan asked. ‘I seem to be having a bit of a problem with the condoms. I can’t get the bubbles out.’

  ‘Clodagh’s an expert on bubbles,’ Michael informed him. ‘It was her who showed me how to dress a banana when I was nineteen, am I right?’

  ‘And you’ve never let me forget it,’ she scolded, though her eyes, which were so like Michael’s, were twinkling with laughter at the memory.

  ‘What’s a condom?’ Billy asked, his upturned face looking from one to the other.

  Clodagh and Cavan looked expectantly at Michael. Michael looked back. Then swinging Billy up into Clodagh’s arms he said, ‘I’m cooking dinner. Clodagh, I love you and if you weren’t my mother I’d marry you.’

  ‘He’s been saying that since he was six,’ Clodagh told Billy. ‘You’d think he’d have found a new line by now, wouldn’t you, after all that education? Come on, let’s go and get that Tierney and Charlie. I expect Charlie would like to meet your soldiers, don’t you?’

  Michael and Cavan wandered into the kitchen and after pouring themselves a large whisky each they set about preparing the evening meal. It wasn’t unusual for them to take over Colleen’s kitchen when the whole family were together, since Colleen loathed cooking and both Michael and Cavan were pretty good at it. As they began rummaging through the fridge, freezer and cupboards to sort out what to prepare, Cavan was filling Michael in on his time in Manaus. His plane had landed at ten the night before, to be met by a taxi Jodi had arranged to take him straight to Michael’s. Michael had come in from dinner shortly after midnight to find his brother crashed out in the guest room, where he had stayed until Michael had turfed him out at midday to get himself ready to go and see Clodagh. So they’d had little time to catch up and though Cavan was obviously bursting with news, Michael’s mind kept wandering along avenues he’d rather not go down.

  He wasn’t sure whether it was Cavan with his passion for lost causes that was making him think of Michelle, or if it was the new baby and what might have been had Michelle stayed. But she hadn’t and now so much time had gone by it no longer mattered. Except during odd moments like this, when for some reason her absence was so strong it felt more like a presence.

  ‘So there I was, scooting up this damn tree,’ Cavan was saying as he set about peeling some potatoes, while Michael plucked a bulb of garlic from a rope to start stuffing a leg of lamb, ‘when this bloody monkey drops on my head and we both hit the deck screaming. Whereupon the wolf, or whatever the bloody thing was, runs back off into the jungle in terror, maybe to get his mates, maybe not, I didn’t hang around to find out. I was back in the landie and heading for camp, with the damned monkey that I couldn’t get rid of. Stuck on me, it was, in every way. Made a right bloody fool of me too …’ He stopped and looked round as Dan came in.

  ‘Colleen’s about to feed Charlie,’ Dan said, ‘so we’re going upstairs to lie on the bed. She wants her feet massaged while she does it and you know your sister’s every wish is my command. Help yourselves to … Ah, you’ve already got one. Did you pour me one too?’

  ‘Coming right up,’ Cavan said, walking round the breakfast bar to the dresser where the drinks were kept under lock and key, after Tierney and Billy had got drunk on sherry one day.

  ‘Are you coming into the office this week?’ Michael asked Dan, setting the lamb in a roasting tray, then searching out some rosemary in the fresh herb pots on the window sill.

  ‘If you want me to,’ Dan answered. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

  ‘Not that I can think of.’

  ‘I’m preparing some pension plans for the Delaney Group,’ Dan said, referring to one of the other companies he was finance director of, ‘so I’ll be tied up with that for the next couple of weeks. Sheila’s managing without me, I take it?’

  ‘Where would we all be without Sheila?’ Michael smiled. ‘I promoted Sandy Paull, by the way. Did anyone tell you?’

  ‘Clodagh mentioned it eighteen or nineteen times,’ Dan answered, taking the drink Cavan was passing him. ‘She’s full of the girl lately, thinks she’s the best thing since tights.’

  Michael and Cavan looked at each other and laughed. ‘Only Clodagh would think tights were a good thing,’ Cavan remarked.

  ‘And only Clodagh would think Sandy Paull was,’ Michael responded. ‘Actually, Clodagh and the best part of my staff.’

  Dan’s eyes were suddenly simmering with humour. ‘Shit, I forgot, she’s got a thing for you, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Show me a woman who hasn’t,’ Cavan chipped in, ducking as Michael threw a tea-towel at his head. ‘So what’s she like, this Sandy whatever her name is?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what she’s like,’ Dan jumped in, ‘she’s the only woman I’ve ever seen make Michael McCann blush.’

  Cavan’s eyes lit up. ‘A bit of a goer, is she?’ he said, warming to the idea of teasing his brother.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ Michael replied. ‘But she certainly behaves as though she is. Dan, is that Colleen calling?’

  Dan listened. ‘Ah, the honeyed tones of my very own Cruella DeVille,’ he intoned as Colleen yelled for him again. ‘What a happy man I’ve been since marrying into your family. Not only do I get your fair sister, but I get your fair mother too. Ah, and my very own little people,’ he added, as the baby started to cry and Billy shouted down the stairs for him to come and play soldiers because Nana and Tierney kept shooting the wrong side.

  An hour or so later they were all carrying piping hot dishes to the big round dining-table, their mouths watering as Cavan set down the delicious garlic-and-rosemary scented lamb, while Tierney complained she couldn’t see as her father lit the candles and lowered the lights. Then all the usual arguments started as to whom the children were going to sit next to, so Michael ended up with Billy one side of him and Clodagh the other, while Tierney sulked between her parents because she couldn’t sit next to Michael too, because Nana wanted to sit between her sons. It was a warm May evening so the French windows were open and the lights were on in the toy-cluttered garden. It was such a perfect family scene that the poignancy of it seemed to reach them all for a moment, even the children, who sat quietly lookin
g at the grown-ups as though awaiting permission to speak.

  Michael’s eyes were sparkling with humour as he picked up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and winked at Tierney. ‘Clodagh, are you going to have some wine?’ he offered, holding the bottle over his mother’s glass.

  ‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’ Cavan responded.

  ‘There he goes, blaspheming again,’ Clodagh chided. ‘Pour me a little drop, Michael. I’ll see if I like it.’

  Tierney gave a shout of laughter, though it was clear she didn’t really know what at, but it provided everyone else with an excuse to do the same.

  ‘So, Cavan, tell us more about Rio,’ Colleen said, as they began to eat. ‘Is it as dangerous as they say?’

  Cavan nodded as he took a mouthful of lamb. ‘In parts,’ he answered when he could. ‘It’s a beautiful place, though. And wild. There’s so much going on, you have to see it to believe it. The beaches are heaving with people and everything stays open right through the night. The music never stops, everyone’s dancing and singing, it’s like a carnival every night, so God knows what the real thing is like when it comes time for Mardi Gras. And the girls! I’ve never seen bodies like it. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, so I did.’

  ‘I expect that’s what they thought when they saw you,’ Clodagh told him.

  Dan and Michael laughed as Colleen teased him about borrowing Michael’s razors, while Cavan studiously ignored them and said, ‘You know, Ma, you could be right.’

  ‘What about the wreck?’ Michael asked. ‘Did you get down to see it?’

  ‘Twice,’ Cavan answered. ‘They reckon it could date back to the Conquistadors, which would make it a pretty important find. They’ve got a team of experts working on it already, researching the stuff they’re bringing up.’

  ‘Any treasure?’ Colleen asked.

  ‘Only in the historical sense,’ he answered.

  ‘So where are you staying there?’ Clodagh asked.

  ‘I’ve borrowed someone’s apartment in Leme, which is almost on the Copacabana beach,’ he said, picking up his wineglass. ‘You should think about coming back with me for a holiday. There’s someone there you know.’