‘Wow …’ Real Brett says, clearly not having expected that reply.
In hindsight his question might actually not have been a question but more of a remark on the delightful circumstances of my friendship group.
Ah well.
‘I didn’t even know they were a couple,’ Julie gasps, reeling from the news, looking like I’ve just told her that Cheryl Cole is actually Simon Cowell and Louis Walsh’s lovechild.
‘Neither did we,’ I say flatly, not wanting to discuss the topic that I shouldn’t have mentioned anyway.
‘Well …’ she breathes.
‘Obviously don’t say anything, though,’ I say with a panic.
‘My lips are sealed,’ he winks.
‘And mine,’ says Julie, pretending to zip across her mouth.
If only that gesture could actually keep her from opening her huge gob, I think, knowing that it’s never stopped her before.
Real Brett glances back over his shoulder at Julie having a flap, before turning to me.
‘And we’re going to Bethnal Green?’ he asks.
‘That’s right,’ I nod, wondering if he’s thinking about changing his mind now that he’s learnt more about my wacky friends and the unique relationships we share – he probably thinks we’re a right bunch of bed-hoppers.
‘Well, why don’t I come with you after work?’ he asks casually. ‘We could even stop for a drink on the way and mull over our plan for Julian.’
‘I’d love to, but …’ I say, not able to find an excuse quickly enough – my brain stranding me and leaving me to stare at him with my mouth wide open like a confused fish instead. We do have to work out the details of where we’re going to send our new friend, and then work on pitching the idea to others in the company, but the whole thing sounds more like a cheeky date than a casual brainstorming session and I’m still not certain I want that – despite what my dreams might be trying to tell me.
‘Right,’ Real Brett nods, unable to contain a smirk at my awkward response as he slowly puts his hand to his chest and bangs on it a couple of times. ‘Shot down twice. I’ll try not to be offended.’
I can’t help but laugh.
He was after a cheeky date.
‘I’ve got loads to do here,’ I shrug, gesturing towards my desk while tapping my pen against my luxurious notebook.
‘Oh …’ he says, his bottom lip pouting out. ‘Christmas party admin?’
‘Something like that,’ I nod, although I’m fairly on top of all that if I’m honest. I just know that if I say I’ve got to do anything on Grannies Go Gap he’ll offer to help or suggest we do it together … and I’d rather not have to worm my way out of that one too.
‘Actually, I should probably work on a few bits here anyway …’ he muses, rubbing his chin and looking around the office.
‘There we go then,’ I smile, picking up my coffee and taking a gulp.
‘We’ll both stay late to work and leave together a bit later. We can just head straight to see your bunch together,’ he nods decisively before turning on his heels and heading back to his desk.
I stare at the back of his head in shock, trying to block out the laughter that’s coming from Julie’s desk, and the fact I can see her shoulders shaking in my peripheral vision.
What I really wanted to do was slink off home and freshen up before heading to the pub later with my mates. Now, as if it’s not bad enough that Real Brett is coming along for an evening with them, I’m now going to have to stay at the office for an extra hour or so to stop me looking like a complete bitch.
Argh.
What a pain in the arse.
Even though I’ve been on the single scene (punch me now because I hate that term) for the last two years, I’ve never really dated. I’ve had encounters, but never in that time have I had to walk into where my friends are gathered with a guy in tow. Which is why I feel my face blush and my insides curdle aggressively as I walk into the pub with Real Brett by my side.
It’s not a date.
He’s not my boyfriend.
We are not romantically linked in any way.
Not really – even though I have a million romantic moments surging through my heart with someone that looks and seems a whole lot like him, all of which he’s totally unaware of.
It feels weird, especially as I decided not to tell any of them that he was coming with me. I think I was still living in the hope that he’d change his mind or remember some important poetry recital he had to go to (or something equally as riveting). Of course, I could’ve warned them when we left the office and made our way over, but by then I was feeling quite sick about the whole thing and didn’t want to make a huge deal of it. I figured this was the most casual way of turning up with our old fleeting friend and my current work colleague who my subconscious mind had turned into my boyfriend before he re-entered our lives.
When worded like that, I’ve no idea why I’d have an issue with it.
Alastair and the boys greet him as they would an old friend (because he is an old friend to a certain degree) – with man hugs and slaps on the back, although seeing Dan welcome him so warmly causes my nostrils to do a little dance of revulsion. Natalia coyly glances up from her iPhone long enough to throw a surprised little wave and a wink in his direction before looking back at her screen, and Lexie sweetly kisses him on both cheeks – happy to meet an old friend of Dan’s.
Carly (I’m thinking about changing her name to Cheeky Cow Carly) just sits and grins at me while these exchanges occur, as though she’s on the verge of giddy giggles. She manages to suppress the urge when it’s her turn to greet Real Brett with a friendly hug and the obligatory ‘It’s been a long time’ chat, but when diverting her attention back to me she mouths the words, ‘Space sex’.
My eyes widen in horror, although all that seems to do is make Cheeky Cow Carly’s giggles escape with great ferocity.
Josh turns to her and looks confused, but luckily the others don’t seem to pick up on it.
I shrug at Josh and pretend not to have a clue what she’s laughing at (hoping he’ll put it down to her crazy preggo hormones) before leaving Real Brett with the others and dragging my cackling mess of a friend to the loo.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I whisper loudly in the way that only women on the verge of losing it can get away with.
‘’I’m so sorry,’ she manages, grabbing her sides – the laughter clearly causing them to split. ‘I just forgot how fit he was and it caught me off guard.’
I frown and prod her shoulder.
‘Ouch!’ she says rubbing her shoulder through her laughter.
‘Stop taking the piss.’
‘I’m not!’ she squeals. ‘I thought you said he hadn’t aged well. I was expecting this wrinkled old man with a potbelly to walk in – but instead that hunk arrived.’
‘He’s totally changed!’ I hiss.
‘That’s what you told me,’ she nods, her arms flailing around dramatically between our two bodies. ‘I don’t see it. He’s not aged any more than us or the guys have. In fact, he’s gone from boy to man. Face it, he’s just an extremely fit guy who you’ve been having rude dreams about.’
‘They’re not all rude,’ I say in a high-pitched squeak, defending my nightly excursions – not wanting to spoil their complicated beauty with her lewd attitude towards them.
‘Really?’ she asks, arching an eyebrow in my direction.
‘No.’
‘Either way,’ she says, trying to gain control of herself. ‘You’ve been dreaming of that dude … if I were you I’d be lying horizontal every spare minute of the day and lapping up that space travel.’
‘Whatever,’ I say, slightly miffed that she doesn’t see what I do. But then she is pregnant and delirious. Who knows what’s going on in that brain of hers.
After more hissing (from me) and giggling (from her), I manage to calm Carly down enough for her to be allowed back with the group – but only on the condition that she promises not
to have any more giddy outbursts that might lead to explanations/lies having to be made up. God knows I’m crap at them, especially when put on the spot.
When we walk out of the ladies we see that our nemesis group of high-kicking performers have already arrived, and that they’re unknowingly being scowled at by our gaggle of friends in the corner.
‘The competition,’ I explain to Real Brett, sitting down in the only spare seat at the table, which happens to be the one right next to him. I’m grateful for the large glass of red that’s been placed there for me to guzzle on.
‘I thought that might be the case,’ he grins, his eyes dancing between my friends who already have their game faces on, ready for war. A playful smile creeps up on to his lips. ‘You guys take this really seriously.’
‘It’s a serious battle,’ says Natalia, her eyes widening at him. ‘Don’t mock it.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he smirks, bashfully looking down at his beer before bringing it to his lips.
Call me nuts, but their little exchange sends a flush of green envy through me – something that’s laughable seeing as I’m being so hot and cold with my own feelings towards Real Brett. I find myself trying to cast my mind back to our nights out in Leicester – did Natalia and Real Brett have a thing back then? I don’t think they did, but I was already busy bed-hopping with Dan at that time, so I would’ve missed the whole thing if they did.
Before I have a chance to stew over my newly acquired jealous streak and the possible past liaisons of Real Brett and Natalia, Ian announces that the quiz is about to start.
‘We’ve got this,’ nods Dan around the table, flashing one of his mega-watt smiles as his fist pumps at the air. ‘The time is ours!’
The group starts making a collection of nervous noises and team morale-boosting chant-like grunts in response.
I join in.
Real Brett throws his head back and laughs, rhythmically bashing his knees with his fists nervously.
‘You ready Bretty boy?’ Josh barks like a sergeant across the table.
‘Yes, sir,’ Real Brett booms, pulling back his shoulders and sitting tall and alert.
Alastair beats at his chest like the alpha male in a shrewdness of apes, egging the rest of us on.
‘Aaaaaah,’ Josh cheers, like he’s on a rugby pitch about to aggressively tackle the opposition.
We all join in, forming an ascending collection of war cries and animalistic wailing, ignoring the stares we’re attracting from the rest of the pub.
Real Brett leans in to me, his bodyweight resting against my right side.
I look up to see him smiling down at me and find myself smiling back – I can’t help myself.
‘Thank God you know this lot,’ I laugh, enjoying the madness of my friends and the energy that our crazy fighting chorus has given me.
‘Know?’ asks Josh with a guffaw, his eyes playfully manic. ‘He’s one of us, Sar!’
In response Real Brett rises from his chair and roars like a beast – the others in our group joining in like insane buffoons, although I spot Lexie looking a little petrified at first and have to stop myself from laughing.
‘Erm, when you’re ready to start …’ says Ian nervously into the microphone, avoiding eye contact like we’re strangers – even though he has seen us in his pub almost every Wednesday night for the past few years.
Laughter erupts from our table to such a level that tears stream from eyeballs and Carly finds it difficult to breathe.
Ian licks his lips and wanders behind the bar to pull himself a pint, perhaps deciding that tonight’s quiz is going to be a rowdy one and that he’s going to need a little helping hand to get through it.
‘Do you think our losing streak has gone to our heads?’ I ask.
‘Seems that way,’ smirks Real Brett with an amused frown. ‘I thought you guys were wild a decade ago and that you’d seriously tamed down with all this quiz chat. Seems I was wrong.’
‘It’s enthralling stuff. You’ll see,’ says Alastair, grabbing the pen and paper and writing out our team name – ready to start. ‘Ned’s going to love that we’re together.’
‘How is he? I haven’t spoken to him in so long,’ admits Real Brett with a tinge of sadness at the mention of his old friend.
‘You know what he’s like – gets a girl and forgets the lot of us,’ winks Alastair with a grin. ‘But at least this one is his wife.’
‘Well, tell him I said hello,’ he says brightly.
‘He’s coming back in a few months actually. We should hook up then.’
‘Really? He’s coming back?’
‘A flying visit for these two,’ Alastair says, sticking his chin out in Dan and Lexie’s direction.
‘Oh. Your wedding?’ Real Brett asks, shuffling in his seat.
‘Not that the invites have gone out yet,’ says Dan, much to Lexie’s horror.
‘Seriously?’ she mutters.
‘People will probably get all the details via text at this rate,’ Dan laughs.
‘I posted out all the save the dates today,’ she nudges him, rightfully annoyed that Dan seems oblivious to the amount of effort required to organize a wedding, especially in a three-month time span – they’ve really taken on an obscene amount of stress what with that and moving house. No wonder they’ve been bickering. The cracks are normally hidden behind a glossy exterior that leaves me feeling inferior and flawed. I wonder if they’re regretting leaving themselves such a short time to plan everything.
Even though I don’t care about Dan’s feelings, I can’t help but feel sorry for Lexie.
‘I’m sure you’ve got it all under control,’ I appease.
Lexie looks up and gives me a smile of thanks.
‘Question one,’ booms Ian, finally getting the quiz underway now that we’ve calmed down and he’s quenched his thirst with a beer.
Our heads gather forwards, huddling over the sheet of paper in Alastair’s care, ready for battle.
With our team united to full force for the first time in weeks, and with Real Brett’s knowledge thrown into the mix too (he’s surprisingly quite up-to-date with current affairs), we plough through this week’s questions with ease, feeling confident when we hand over our answer sheet.
‘I’ve got a good feeling about this,’ declares Josh to the group, shaking his fist animatedly.
‘Don’t jinx us,’ says Natalia, rolling her eyes before grabbing her phone. I don’t know how she miraculously manages to stay off the blooming device for the duration of the quiz each week. Although it’s never too far from her gaze, and she’s always ready to pick it up as soon as the quiz is finished and people have dispersed to the bar or loo. I’m relieved to see this trait hasn’t changed in the presence of Real Brett – she’s clearly not interested. Perhaps I imagined their exchange earlier …
Hold on. Did I say relieved? I meant intrigued … Meh.
‘So when are you two getting married?’ Real Brett turns and asks Dan.
I throw a glance in his direction, wondering why he’s bringing up the topic when he’s aware of the history, and see his mouth twitch.
‘Valentine’s Day next year,’ Dan says, with an excited smile that makes me want to punch him in the face.
‘Not long, then,’ says Real Brett.
‘No. Mate, you should come,’ Dan offers suddenly, his forehead wrinkling upwards to emphasize his invitation.
‘But …’ voices Lexie, before taking a deep breath, biting her lip and holding in her thought.
‘What’s up?’ asks Dan, seeming a little annoyed at her objection.
‘Nothing,’ Lexie mumbles at him. ‘It’s just space, you know.’
‘It’s all right. I totally understand,’ says Real Brett graciously, holding his hands out in front of him to let her know it’s not an issue.
‘What? No,’ stammers Dan, his face screwing up in protest. ‘What about Sarah’s plus one?’
‘What’s that?’ I ask, my ears pricking up. ‘I
didn’t realize we were all getting plus ones.’
‘No, not everyone is,’ says Lexie, side-glancing at Dan with annoyance, clearly not wanting to talk about it here in front of everyone. ‘I just thought you might like a date seeing as these lot are going to be part of the wedding party and away performing their different roles. Not that you have to stay away or anything like that. You’re welcome to be with the girls as much as you like – ’ she babbles on, unable to stop the words pouring from her mouth and on the verge of suggesting things I know she’ll regret. No matter how friendly our circumstances are now, who wants someone’s ex loitering around with their bridesmaids on their wedding day?
No one.
‘Lexie,’ I say, stopping her. ‘Seriously, don’t worry about me. I don’t need a plus one. I’ll be fine.’
I manage to stop myself from saying that I know most of Dan’s family anyway and won’t be on my own – but I think pointing out, yet again, that I have a history with his family and that I’ve spent many Christmases and holidays with them isn’t necessary. She doesn’t need another reminder.
‘Brett should totally be your plus one,’ says Carly to my left.
I know she’s grinning before I even turn to glare at her with the deathliest death stare I can muster.
‘Well, who else would you take?’ she asks innocently, with a meek little raise of her shoulders to highlight her point further. ‘At least Brett knows you guys and has a history,’ she says to Dan and Lexie, rallying them into her way of thinking.
‘Weddings are so boring when you don’t know the couple,’ adds Natalia, not even looking up from her phone.
‘That’s true,’ nods Dan. ‘There you go, problem solved.’
‘Only if Sarah doesn’t mind,’ argues Lexie, who seems to be the only person at this table talking sense.
‘Why would she mind?’ asks Carly. ‘He’s the perfect plus one.’
‘What’s this? You coming to their wedding?’ asks Alastair with excitement, patting Real Brett on the back before leaning across the table to pick up his wallet. ‘That’s awesome.’
Dream a Little Dream Page 23