Broken Dreams Boxset

by Rebecca Barber

  Doing a quick spin in front of the mirror, I was happy with what I saw. Flicking the lights off, I headed out determined to have a fabulous night with friends and forget all about Joel Matthews.

  The look on Cora’s face as she pulled open the door confirmed my thoughts. “You look fucking hot,” she gasped, grabbing my wrist and yanking me inside.

  “Thanks,” I accepted as gracefully as I could. “You too.”

  For the first time since my world had been turned upside down, I felt alive again. I was nineteen and, for the first time in long a while, I felt it. I didn’t have solicitors asking questions and people offering me things or queries from property managers over what they should do. Instead, I was handed a crystal glass of champagne from my best friend as I settled into the sofa and watched the hypnotic movements of Usher on DVD.

  “Ladies!” Rhiannon exclaimed, breezing into the room and twirling, her short mini dress flaring as she dropped into the oversized stuffed couch. “Don’t we all look ravishing?” I could instantly tell that the glass of bubbles in Rhiannon’s hand wasn’t her first.

  “Who needs another drink?” Heidi asked, joining us in front of the television, a bottle in either hand.

  I found myself captivated by the hip swivelling on the screen. Wearing only a pair of jeans and more diamonds than the local jeweller owned, Usher was drool-worthy.

  “Earth to Gillian,” Cora teased, poking me gently in the ribs.

  “Sorry, I was off with fairies,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “We noticed.” Rhiannon laughed heartily.

  I shrugged as Heidi topped up my glass. “I just want to know, where do I get one of those?”

  “No idea! I don’t know anyone with a body like that, and if I did I sure as shit wouldn’t take my hands off him.”

  Past drinking adventures had prepared all of us. Each of us had our own little idiosyncrasies when we were drinking. Things that normally we wouldn’t do, but once alcohol was added to the mix, some things couldn’t be stopped. Cora would cry. It didn’t matter if nothing happened, at some point, Cora would just dissolve into tears. Rhiannon would get horny, hitting on any man whose eye she could catch. Even if it was across the bar, she’d make her move. This usually meant Heidi became agitated and aggressive, swearing and cursing like a sailor, pushing people and even getting in the occasional cat fight.

  My biggest vice was my tongue. When loosened thanks to one too many cocktails, I tended to say exactly what I thought with little or no regard for the consequences. If someone asked if their butt looked big in their jeans and they did, but normally the polite thing to do would be to assure them that they looked fine. That’s when drunken Gillian would tell them with a muffin top like that, I wouldn’t be worried about the ass chasing them around. I had a foul mouth and I often ended up calling the next day to apologize.

  When the last of the bottles was empty, Alex arrived and drove us into town. I don’t really know how he did it with the radio blasting Madonna as loud as it could go and four tone-deaf women singing even louder.

  “Behave yourselves!” Alex warned out the window as we quickly joined the end of the queue outside the club.

  “Yes dear,” we all called out in unison.

  It was freezing. Even through the champagne induced haze I knew it was freezing. My strapless black top wasn’t doing much to keep out the frosty midnight breeze. I was glad I’d chosen to wear pants rather than a skirt like the others. I could see their legs turning blue as they bounced up and down on the spot, trying to keep warm as the queue snaked inside.

  Luckily it didn’t take long before we made it to the front of the line. “Ladies,” the bouncer greeted, lifting the velvet rope and stamping our wrists as we passed by. He was a stunning beast of a man. He had a simple, country bumpkin smile and the biggest biceps I’d ever seen. Not like the dumb, personality deprived, steroid-filled, robot standing opposite him. He handed me a lollipop and we headed up the stairs towards the thumping music.

  Upstairs I spotted a booth in the back corner and in our own version of sign language Heidi and I made a beeline for it, while Cora and Rhiannon went straight to the bar. Moments later the four of us were sitting around, toasting friendship with shots.

  “So, Gillian…what happened with that delectable real estate agent you were telling us about last week? Seen any more of him?” Heidi prodded.

  “Yeah,” Cora added. “He sounded like fun with a capital ‘F’!”

  I told them the truth. They were the only family I had so I admitted everything from the immaculate house to the beautiful car and the walk of shame the next morning.

  “Was his body as good as you imagined?” Rhiannon asked bluntly. Even sober, she had no shame. If she wanted to know something, she’d just come out and ask. If it hurt your feelings, that was your problem, not hers.

  I slid down in my seat. The smile on my face felt so big my lips almost cracked in the corners. “Oh my freaking god!” I had no words. How do you describe the best male specimen you have ever seen?

  For the next couple of minutes, we sat around gushing about Joel’s perfect body and his perfect manners. The perfect house and the fact that although it seems I was just another notch in his belt, he was still the perfect gentleman the whole time. I think the word ‘perfect’ was used about a million times in the space of ten minutes.

  Then, abruptly, Rhiannon stood up, swayed on her feet, gulped down the last of her vodka raspberry and made a declaration. “Ladies, we aren’t here tonight to discuss Gillian’s previous conquests. We’re here to find the next one!”

  Through the infectious cackling, Heidi remembered Alex. Kind, loving Alex, who was planning on getting out of bed in the middle of the night to make sure we all made it home in one piece. “Rhiannon, aren’t you otherwise spoken for?”

  “Yes, but you aren’t.” She grinned cheekily, grabbing Heidi’s hand and leading her through the crush of people and onto the dance floor.

  I decided to sit this one out. Instead, I stayed to mind our drinks and our booth. I watched as the others laughed, danced and enjoyed themselves. I was having a great time just people watching. When a broad shouldered, blond football type of guy approached and asked if he could buy me a drink, I quickly declined. I wasn’t sure why, but it just didn’t feel right. I felt as though I was cheating. Cheating on something, but I wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

  “Did you just send that scrumptious bit of man candy away?” Cora asked, sliding back into the booth, puffing heavily. Nodding, I sipped my vodka slowly. “Man, that real estate agent must have been unbelievable in bed. Or at least I hope he was, ’cause that guy you sent away, he looked like he’d know his way around a woman. Mind if I go find out?”

  Smiling, I sent Cora off after Mr. Football, as he later became known. Moments later I watched them from my booth, grinding against each other. I felt even better. Seeing Cora that happy felt right. Heidi and Rhiannon were at the bar ordering more shots and laughing loudly. Everyone was having an incredible night. Then I spotted him.

  His perfect hands, resting on her arse. His smiling face, reflected in her eyes. His dark blue jeans and grey button-down shirt were the epitome of class and sophistication. His deep, soothing voice, whispering into her ear. His brown hair spiked into the perfect position. Joel was here. All my determination not to think about it or dwell on what might have been evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold fury. As the realization sank in that I meant nothing to him, a blind hatred consumed me. I was so preoccupied when Rhiannon and Heidi slipped back into the booth beside me.

  Heidi must have sensed that something was wrong. “Gillian! Gillian!” she called out, trying to make herself heard over the pumping music.

  When Rhiannon touched my arm, I jerked around and faced her. “What’s up?” she asked, reading the strange look that crossed my face.

  When I didn’t respond they followed my gaze and spotted the beautiful man nibbling on the blonde’s ear lobe. He planted tiny little
kisses up and down the length of the swan-like neck that she arched backwards seductively while giggling.

  “You know that guy?”

  “Gillian! Do you know him?”

  Shaking my head with disgust, I downed both my shot and Heidi’s before taking my eyes off him and facing Rhiannon. “Ladies, meet Joel Matthews.”

  Both of their eyes darted around and looked again. They saw him the same way I saw him. And I have to admit it was great in that moment, at the time when I needed someone to understand, someone to know me, someone to be filled with the same rage that I was, Rhiannon and Heidi were.

  “We’re out of here,” Rhiannon proclaimed, already on her feet.

  CHAPTER SIX

  GILLIAN

  When I finally managed to pry my eyelids open, I just wanted to close them again. My tongue was furry and my mouth felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton wool. My ears were ringing and my head pounding. The room spun around me. I didn’t think I’d drunk that much, but obviously counting my drinks hadn’t been high on my agenda.

  I managed to stumble to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, in hopes that would make me feel human again. Looking up, straight into the truth-filled mirror, I saw the reality staring back at me. My bloodshot eyes were outlined by dark tear-streaked mascara circles. Lipstick was smudged halfway across my cheek, making me look more like a clown than a person. My hair still had bobby pins hanging out of it and now resembled a very poorly constructed bird’s nest. After three attempts of washing it all away with icy water, I drank thirstily directly from the tap. The high-pitched whistling noise the pipes made as the water thudded through them made my head spin even faster. After glugging down a few mouthfuls, I stumbled back into bed, pulled the quilt cover over my head, and passed out again.

  Waking again, I felt slightly more human, but was surprised to see that it was already three o’clock. I had drifted in and out of consciousness for most of the day. After a shower and a tall glass of Coke I started to feel more like myself. Drawing back the heavy curtains, I saw that the day I missed hadn’t been much. It had rained heavily, by the looks of the puddles that lined the driveway, and the trees were almost horizontal in the howling wind.

  Tripping over a shoe I slumped to the lounge and clicked on the remote. When I felt something hard dig into my bum I felt around, only to find the entire contents of my handbag tipped between the cushions. Digging out my phone, I nervously put it on the arm of the chair and walked away.

  I didn’t know if I called anyone last night. I didn’t remember calling, but then again, I didn’t remember getting home or pretty much anything else after I spotted Joel in the club. Oh my god. I didn’t make an idiot of myself in front of Joel, did I? My phone was taunting me. Silent, still, waiting for me to gather the courage to open it and see what I’d done. I couldn’t do it. Instead, I went into the kitchen and found something to eat.

  I saw my phone vibrate off the lounge and crash to the floor, but my feet were frozen to the spot. I wanted to run and stop it from smashing, but if it broke all the information in it would be lost. All the evidence destroyed. Moments later it vibrated and buzzed again. It may have hit the floor with a thud but it still worked. Unfortunately.

  In that moment some strange impulse consumed me. I had no idea who could be trying to get a hold of me but I hoped it was Joel. I wanted to know that I hadn’t stuffed everything. I wanted him to reassure me that everything was okay, that I wasn’t some desperate, needy one-night stand or just another notch on his fancy leather belt.

  I picked it up and read the message.

  Rhiannon: U up yet? I’m dying.

  Rhiannon had always had a flare for the dramatic.

  Gillian: Yeah alive. Barely.

  I slumped back down on the lounge and hit play on the DVD. I didn’t even know what was in there and I didn’t really care. I just wanted the noise of something other than the incessant, infuriating ringing in my ears.

  Rhiannon: Heidi n I r on way with ur car.

  I had completely blanked out that part of the evening. I know Alex was supposed to bring us home but I don’t remember if he did or not. Probably; he was reliable and sensible like that. Thank god someone in my life was.

  For the next twenty minutes I sat, completely unable to move, tears streaming down my face, regretting pressing play. PS I Love You played on the screen. Heidi didn’t even knock. She just pushed open the door and flopped onto the sofa beside me, her eyes focused on the screen in front of us.

  Rhiannon came through the door like a whirlwind. “Well, ladies, did we all have fun last night?” Heidi and I rolled our eyes at her in unison and grunted our agreement.

  “So, what happened to you, Gillian?” Heidi asked, straining her eyes away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you turned down an absolute hottie, he ends up taking Cora home, and now no one can get hold of her. And you end up at the bar with a line of cowboy shots in front of you that you were downing like water. I have never seen anyone, male or female, drink like you did last night. Do you have a death wish or something?”

  I stared at Heidi for a long time. At least now I knew the cause of the throbbing pain in my head and the reason every time I took a sip of my water, I felt like my entire insides lurched. “Did I?” I asked nervously. Surely, she was exaggerating. They both laughed, seeing me wiggle. “How did I get home?” I enquired, not sure if I really wanted the answer.

  “Alex,” Rhiannon offered. “He drove us all here. I stripped you off, tucked you into bed, and then we left. Nice lingerie, by the way. Was that for me or did you have someone else in mind?”

  “We practically carried you through the door. Well, Alex did,” Heidi finished. I felt my whole face turn red with embarrassment. I’d been drunk before, but nothing like that. I didn’t even remember how I got home; I couldn’t even walk up the steps by myself.

  “I’m so sorry, guys…” I started, but was cut off by Rhiannon’s hysterical cackle.

  “Don’t be sorry at all. You needed a good night out and you had it. I needed a good laugh and I got it. All in all, a very successful evening. Want to do it again?”

  “I want to kill you!” I tried smiling, but couldn’t conjure one. “You know that, right?”

  Later that night I lay curled up on the lounge, a bowl of hot buttered popcorn in my lap, and a blanket wrapped around me watching Sex and the City reruns. It amazed me; those ladies went out every night dressed head to toe in Dior or Gucci, drank more than a fish and awoke the next morning looking stunning and refreshed with a different gorgeous guy each time. With that thought running around in my overtired hungover brain, I thought of Joel. Maybe he was my one perfectly gorgeous guy. Maybe that was all I got.

  The more I thought about him, the more irritated and annoyed I got. It wasn’t that he’d basically thrown me out the door, because the truth was, he didn’t. He was a perfect gentleman the morning after. No, the bit that was annoying me more than anything else was the fact that I had employed him and he hadn’t bothered to call. I had retained his professional services and he was supposed to have fulfilled specific obligations and he’d let me down. Frustrated, it took all my control and strength to not text him and say something I would regret. No, I was more mature than that. First thing Monday morning I was going to contact his office and find out what the hell was going on.

  Still annoyed, I found myself drooling over the Absolut hunk as I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  When Monday arrived, I had made some very overdue decisions regarding my life. I was going to take control and do with it what I wanted. I had spent the day before surfing the internet getting very familiar with my new best friend, Google. I was putting together my bucket list. It was so broad and varied. It had simple things like ice skating and go- karting, but then it had adventurous things too. I wanted to ride an elephant in the jungles of Thailand, and I wanted to see the great pyramids of Egypt, before climbing the Eiffel Tower in Paris a
t sunset. But first I was going to start small. I was going to get fit and skinny and start feeling good about myself. Maybe even liking myself. So, when the alarm rudely interrupted me at six a.m. I wanted to kill someone. But then I remembered this was entirely my idea. Even if it was a stupid one. I tortured my body for the next half an hour while I followed the yoga instructor on TV through a rather painful session before exposing my already tired and sore body the to cold and attempted a run. It almost killed me. My laboured breaths formed fluffy white clouds of condensation in front of my face while my nose was so cold it felt like the tip would snap off. My plan had been to run for half an hour, then shower and start my day. Barely ten minutes in, I had a stitch and I was gasping for breath. With my heart pounding madly in my chest, I walked the rest of the way.

  “Morning,” other joggers greeted as they breezed past barely panting, let alone breaking a sweat.

  By the time I stepped into the shower and let the steam surround me, I recognized the extent of the weariness on my neglected body. It would take time to build up to running, but I’d get there. I was determined. First get fit. Feel good. Look fabulous. Then I’d get what I wanted. Or who I wanted.

  After scoffing down my breakfast I stole a glance at the clock, it was just after eight. Too early to ring Joel and let him have it. Trying to distract myself, I vacuumed and did a load of washing. I threw out a pile of old trashy magazines and even dusted, something I hated more than anything else.

  The clock struck nine and I could only hold out a few more minutes. At ten past I called the office’s main line. “Max Meredith & Sons, this is Madeline.”

  “Good morning, Madeline. Could I please speak to Joel Matthews?”