Dream a Little Dream

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Dream a Little Dream Page 15

by Giovanna Fletcher


  ‘So, have you got any ideas you want to throw out there?’ asks Louisa, her beady eyes looking at me expectantly.

  ‘Erm …’

  ‘Got anything in that shiny new notebook of yours?’ she asks with a not-so-innocent shrug.

  ‘This?’ I stammer, flipping the beautiful pad in the air with a face that suggests it’s actually a pile of dog crap. So far the only thing I’ve managed to write in it is my name and the date – nothing that’s going to take the television word by storm and capture the imagination of millions.

  ‘On her first day in the room?’ Real Brett asks Louisa with a chortle. ‘Give her a chance.’

  I’m taken aback by the whole thing, so my eyes just flick between the pair.

  ‘Joking, obviously,’ Louisa shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed as she picks up her iPad and covers her face with it.

  ‘All in your own time,’ frowns Damian, bemused. ‘Plus, for your own sanity, while you’re in this room anything goes. No idea is too small or too big – you never know what could grow from a silly thought.’

  ‘Nothing stifles your creative flow quicker than a questioning mind,’ nods Real Brett while looking at Louisa.

  ‘Right …’ I nod, wondering whether I’m going to regret asking for the promotion in the first place.

  ‘Just get brainstorming and flag up anything you think could really work. Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s reconvene next Monday morning and see where we’re all at,’ says Damian, while raising his shoulders as if what he’s suggesting is a breeze and not something that’s going to keep me up for the next six nights worrying.

  And just like that, my first meeting in Development is over and I’m sat back at my desk whittling down the canapé options for our works Christmas do.

  17

  Seeing as our last few attempts at winning our title back have been appalling, we decide to forego the pub quiz night in favour of a pizza and film feast at ours instead. Mostly to give us all a break from being beaten by the dancing queens, but, obviously, this is also a little ruse to get the team together somewhere quieter so that certain topics (Carly being up the duff with our best mate’s bubba) can be discussed without having to worry about eavesdroppers. Not that anyone there would be interested, but the group’s reactions have the potential to be rather high-pitched and emotional.

  Unsurprisingly, everyone was pretty chuffed to be meeting up away from the pub for a change.

  Josh is first through the door for once, wanting to spend some alone time with Carly before the others arrive – they slink off to her bedroom until the flat buzzer rings twenty minutes later to tell us that Dan, Lexie and Natalia are standing on the doorstep.

  You’d think it would be weird having Dan here with Lexie, seeing as it’s the flat we once lived in together, but they’ve been over dozens of times in the past two years (thanks to my inability to ask the others over without including them), so they clearly don’t mind. Living with Carly has meant lots of other memories have been created here … and not just of me weeping with heartbreak over Dan and his rejection.

  The only time it did get a little strange was when Dan once helped himself to an orange squash during a visit, proving that he knew where everything was and that he still felt very much at home here.

  I rearranged the kitchen cupboards when he’d left. He hasn’t been able to help himself since.

  The buzzer goes off to let us know the pizzas have arrived as soon as Alastair steps into the lounge.

  ‘Well, how’s that for timing,’ he nods, looking happy that he doesn’t have to wait to eat. I don’t know what it is about Wednesday nights in particular, but the whole gang turn into hungry vultures – unable to function in a non-distracted manner until their tummies are full. We love our food.

  ‘While we’re all here, I have a little something to share,’ says Carly, bringing in the boxes of pizza from the delivery guy and standing, holding them to ransom, in the doorway to the room.

  Josh gasps, knowing what she’s about to blurt, the others just looking bemused that their hot pizzas are at risk of getting cold.

  ‘I’m pregnant and Josh is the dad,’ she almost shouts, before whispering desperately to Josh, ‘I’m sorry. There’s no way I could’ve enjoyed these without getting that out first.’

  Even though I knew the moment was coming, I must admit that even I’m a little shocked with the delivery – walking into a room of hungry adults, wafting deliciously smelling pizza in their faces and then dropping an almighty bombshell is a little untraditional.

  Being able to watch their individual reactions, though, is quite beautiful.

  ‘Wait … Carly’s the girl you’ve got pregnant?’ asks Alastair, getting up from the sofa that he’s only just parked his butt on, the news making him spring to his feet.

  ‘Seems so,’ Josh smiles sheepishly with his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Mate,’ Alastair nods. ‘I’ve been thinking you got a right wrong’un in trouble. This is epic.’ He strides over to Josh and gives him a proper man hug, complete with overly enthusiastic patting on the back. ‘You cheeky little fuckers.’

  ‘I knew it! What did I tell you?’ squeals Lexie to Dan.

  ‘You guessed they’d had a cheeky snog at our engagement party – you didn’t guess this,’ smiles Dan, going over and joining the bromance between the boys before going to Carly, taking the pizzas from her, putting them on the coffee table and turning back with his arms wide open for a cheesy Dan hug.

  Natalia’s reaction is priceless. She’s full on ugly-girl wailing on the sofa – to the point where Carly actually goes over to her to see if she’s okay.

  ‘This is amazing,’ she sobs, laughing, wiping her dainty fingers across her soggy cheeks. ‘I just really wasn’t expecting it.’

  ‘Neither were we,’ grins Josh from across the room.

  ‘It’s so beautiful. You’re growing a little miracle,’ she laughs, placing her hand on Carly’s stomach.

  ‘Crazy,’ Carly beams back, placing her hand over Natalia’s and looking up at Josh.

  I watch as the pair lock eyes and exchange a tender moment.

  The sight brings tears to my eyes.

  ‘Where are you going to live? Will you move into one place?’ Natalia asks with sudden panic, cutting in on the touching moment being shared.

  Trust Natalia to think practically about the whole thing – I hadn’t even thought about the idea of them living together, but they’re a couple who are clearly in love and they’re about to have a baby – it makes sense.

  Although I’ve no idea where that would that leave me and our flat. I hope it won’t mean I have to move too, though I guess that’s what Gumtree’s for. I can find another flatmate … I’m sure. I just have to hope they’re not into anything weird – like veganism or trainspotting.

  ‘We haven’t properly talked about that yet. We have a few ideas but we’re in no rush to do anything straight away,’ says Josh, walking to Carly’s side and rubbing the tops of her shoulders.

  ‘It’s still early days – you never know what could happen,’ says Carly, pulling her lips together.

  ‘Everything’s okay though, yeah?’ asks Dan, sounding concerned.

  ‘We’ll just be relieved when we get to the twelve-week mark and things are a bit safer,’ Josh shrugs, leaning forward and kissing the top of Carly’s head.

  ‘I can’t wait to have a scan. It still doesn’t feel real at the moment,’ she laughs.

  ‘Know how you feel. It’s quite a lot to take in,’ puffs Alastair with a grin, draping his arm around my neck and pulling me in for a hug.

  Carly and Josh might’ve felt as though becoming a couple in our group might’ve made things awkward – but the pair were so close anyway that their affectionate mannerisms with each other aren’t completely new and surprising. In fact, it’s rather gorgeously natural and has the whole group grinning wildly with a bizarre sense of what feels to me like pride.

  ‘Oh my God
– you’re going to be pregnant at the wedding!’ gasps Lexie, her head whipping round as she works out the months in her head. ‘What about your bridesmaid’s dress?’

  Everyone tenses up, as though we’ve entered a spontaneous game of Musical Statues – I’m sure Alastair has even stopped breathing by my side. Silence falls on the room as Lexie’s words make their way into my ears. Wedding. Carly. Bridesmaid. Dress.

  Ohhh … I see.

  I’m guessing Natalia is too.

  Eurgh!

  Of course Dan and Lexie would include the girls in their wedding party – I knew the boys were both ushers (Dan’s brother is best man), so the girls getting involved too shouldn’t be so surprising, should it?

  They just should’ve told me.

  ‘I’m sure we can get it altered or change the style,’ Lexie mutters, going red as she looks down at her hands.

  It occurs to me that she might have been feeling guilty about the whole thing (or at least a little uncomfortable) – and that’s part of the reason why she gave me a present the other week, to soften the blow of this moment.

  Well, it was a nice notebook – even if I’m still yet to write in it properly.

  Bless her for trying.

  With his arm still around me, Alastair’s hand gently grips my shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to sort something out,’ I say with a shrug and one of my best ever everything-is-fine grins, hoping to lift the air of suspense in the room.

  ‘Pizza anyone?’ asks Alastair, helping me out by moving towards our waiting dinner. He flips open the boxes and starts to offer them round the group.

  Nothing breaks tension like food. Especially pizza.

  ‘Anyone want a drink?’ I quickly ask.

  ‘Wine, please,’ asks Natalia, still quietly sobbing on the sofa, although now looking even more worried.

  ‘You need one,’ Josh laughs. ‘Beer, please.’

  ‘Me too,’ says Dan.

  ‘Three,’ says Alastair, picking up a slice of pepperoni pizza and cramming it into his mouth and turning to me with a wink.

  ‘And I’m guessing wine for you Lexie, but something soft for you, Carly,’ I say, turning to leave.

  ‘I’ll come help,’ she says, following me into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Carly whimpers as soon as we’re out of earshot – which isn’t easy as our flat is particularly tiny – although I prefer to refer to it as cosy.

  ‘It’s not something you can say no to, darling. Unless you’re a total bitch – which you’re not.’

  ‘But I should’ve told you.’

  ‘Well … a heads up would’ve been nice,’ I wink.

  ‘She asked when I’d just done a test – my mind was all over the shop. I agreed and then haven’t thought about it again since.’

  ‘Hardly surprising with so much going on.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ I say, giving her a hug. ‘By the way – great announcement.’

  Carly buries her head in her hands and laughs. ‘What am I like?’

  ‘Fuck!’ Natalia mutters, scurrying into the room as though she is literally carrying her tail between her legs. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

  Without saying anything else she buries herself into my arms and gives me a hug – it’s her way of apologizing for being a total Judas.

  I give her a squeeze back to let her know I understand.

  ‘And you!’ she says, turning to Carly with a sob. ‘Come here.’ She grabs hold of Carly by the wrist and pulls her into us, so that we’re all huddled together.

  18

  The week ticks by with little inspiration for exciting new programmes for Red Brick Productions to produce – largely because Jonathan’s kept me so busy with the Christmas party and personal tasks for his wife and daughter (I managed to bagsie the Beyoncé tickets through one of our directors who knows someone who owns a box at the O2, however clearing his wife of her M6 driving points is still an on-going saga with the DVLA), but mostly because I’m scared that anything I come up with is going to be crap and laughed at by people who actually know what they’re doing. I’m not exactly keen on making myself look like an idiot, even if I am quite good at it.

  So, instead of making loads of plans for the weekend, I decide to have a quiet one staying indoors and brainstorming. Above everything else, it gives me an excuse not to accept the invite over to Mum and Dad’s for the weekend. Not that they minded – they were pretty impressed when I said I had to stay in and work.

  On Saturday I sit staring at the blank pages of my book, willing and waiting for an idea to jump out and fill them. It’s a tedious day that ends with me wanting to pull my eyeballs out and flush them down the loo so that I never have to see a piece of paper again (or see the look of disappointment on Damian’s face when I go in on Monday morning and admit I have nothing to offer – and the look of satisfaction on Poutmouth’s face when I confirm that I am indeed useless and probably only sent there as a spy – and the look of horror on my mum’s face when I tell her I’ve been sacked for having little to no imagination). I believe this is what’s known as ‘development hell’ – when the ideas just won’t come and even thinking becomes an impossible mission. I’ve heard the expression bashed around the office a few times in the past and assumed it was just a term Louisa and Dominique made up for days when they’d been out the night before – but it turns out it’s an actual, annoying, hellish, thing. At seven o’clock I decide to give up and join Carly and Natalia (she’s here more weekends than she’s not) on the sofa for a girlie night in of fab TV – Strictly, The X Factor, even a bit of I’m A Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here. It might not be particularly productive, but at least I’m not staring at a blank page debating pulling my eyes out.

  Sunday morning is pretty much the same as the day before, with me sat on my bed thinking about thinking. So when Carly and Natalia knock on my bedroom door with a coffee, sausage rolls, some pickled onion monster munch and three Freddo frog chocolate bars, I welcome the distraction.

  ‘Four in a Bed starts in a sec,’ Carly winks, picking up the remote control and jumping into the middle of the bed, while Natalia pops the tray of goodies on the bed and scrambles in next to her.

  The TV goes on and we watch as two of the four sets of B&B owners bicker over a used condom found in the rubbish bin at one of the properties. It’s pretty disgusting. And riveting.

  ‘Well, it was wrapped up,’ shouts Carly, getting angry.

  ‘Who goes through bins anyway?’ I ask, shaking my head at the thought of it.

  ‘Plus, he didn’t need to sit there and unravel the whole flipping thing, did he? He must’ve known he wasn’t going to find anything nice in there. I bet he planted it!’ Natalia gasps.

  I’m about to say something but the B&B owners are really going for each other and I don’t want to miss a second of it – we sit in silence for the duration of the row and the rest of the show. Needless to say the team with the offending condom did not win – something Natalia’s pretty miffed about.

  ‘What happened to us?’ Carly asks, once the end credits are rolling and Natalia’s calmed down from the injustice the rubber johnny has delivered.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

  ‘My life used to be full of adventure,’ she moans, puffing out her cheeks.

  ‘Erm, you’ve been having sneaky sex with Josh for the last year or so,’ I laugh.

  ‘Yeah, I think your life is still full of adventure,’ Natalia says, eyeing up her tummy to further make our point.

  The two of us cackle hysterically.

  ‘Oh I know – a brand new adventure, blah blah blah,’ Carly says, rolling her eyes at the pair of us. ‘But gone are the days where I get high and dance the night away on beaches in Thailand without a care in the world. We’ve become grannies before our time.’

  My head whips around to look at her as an idea starts to formulate in my brain.

  ‘Wha
t? Why are you looking at me like that, you loon?’

  ‘Out,’ I shoo, getting up from the bed and brushing their legs away with my fingertips. ‘Out, out, out!’

  ‘You’ve got an idea?’ asks Natalia, excitedly sliding off the bed and gathering up the mess our lunch has made.

  ‘Yes, now OUT!’ I yelp.

  ‘Was it something I said?’ asks Carly, taking her sweet arse time to move anywhere.

  ‘Yes,’ I nod.

  ‘Oooooh!’ she coos. ‘Do I get a cut?’

  ‘You can have my Freddo Frog,’ I say, placing it in her hand and escorting her to the door.

  ‘Good deal,’ she nods as I shut her out of my room.

  I pick up my gorgeous notebook and start to write out my plan.

  19

  On a warm summer’s evening in Spain, I walk into an outdoor restaurant and speedily make my way across to the toilet – desperate for a pee. On arrival at the ladies I find that the cubicle walls are all made of mirrors. It’s strange, as the rest of the place has an organic outdoorsy feel about it, echoing its position by the sea with wooden furniture, shells scattered everywhere and low candlelight, but I don’t have time to think. I’m busting. I’ll piss my pants if I don’t go now.

  I dash in, pull down my jeans and knickers and let out a huge groan of relief as the wee escapes. I didn’t think I’d make it – it was touch and go for a minute.

  Sitting there, on the toilet, I look out to the other people eating and drinking close by and notice they’re glancing at me over their beer bottles and sniggering.

  But how can they be?

  I’m in a cubicle surrounded by walls …

  Surely they can’t see me …

  But they can.

  The walls are see-through.

  Horrified, I glance up once more and see Dan’s Uncle Andy at the bar talking to his Aunty Sally, both looking at me in disgust – their nostrils flaring and their lips curling.

 

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