Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3)

by Jessica Redland

  ‘This.’ Ben tried to punch him but Taz pre-empted it and grabbed his arm, bending it backwards. Ben gasped with pain.

  ‘I think you were trying to do this.’ Taz smashed his fist into Ben’s face. ‘That’s how real men hit.’ He let go of Ben, who fell onto his knees and then forward onto his hands.

  ‘As for you.’ Taz spat on the ground beside me. ‘You’re nothing special. Pretty minging, actually. I felt sorry for you on your own. That’s all.’ Then he disappeared into the kitchen, slamming the door.

  I ran to Ben and put my arm around him. ‘You’re not minging,’ he said. ‘You’re beautiful.’

  ‘Ben, I don’t give a shit about my looks. Are you hurt?’ He looked up. I could see in the dim light that his cheek was badly swollen and his eye was already closing.

  ‘We can go now, if you want,’ he said. ‘You were right. It’s a pretty shit party.’

  A nervous laugh escaped from me. ‘We’ll get some ice on this first. Then we can go. Can you stand up?’

  He staggered to his feet with my help. ‘Clare?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Happy New Year! But the king’s still mine, I think.’

  ‘Yes, Ben. The king’s still yours.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘Are you awake?’ Ben poked his head around the door the next morning.

  ‘I am if you have coffee,’ I muttered, from under the duvet in my old room. ‘I’m still asleep if you don’t.’

  ‘After living with you, I don’t think I’d dare appear without coffee.’

  I reluctantly pulled back the duvet and squinted at him, then sat upright, eyes wide open. ‘Jesus, Ben! Your eye!’

  ‘You should see the state of the other guy.’

  ‘I did, and I seem to remember that he got off scot-free.’

  Ben handed me the mug and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘It looks worse than it feels, although I do have a banging headache.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. Will you not put some peas on that again?’

  ‘I forgot to put them back in the freezer last night.’

  ‘Ice?’

  ‘I forgot to refill the tray.’

  ‘Eejit.’

  Ben tried to smile but winced. ‘I suppose you think I was an “eejit” for coming to your defence last night?’

  ‘You were and always will be an eejit, Saint Ben. I like that you tried, but will you just remember that you wouldn’t be sporting that shiner if you’d listened to me and we’d left that party when I said.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘An apology would be grand.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Clare. As always, you were right and I was wrong.’

  ‘I almost believe you,’ I said. ‘By the way, what made you think it was Taz who’d upset me last night?’

  ‘I’ve met him before and can’t stand the guy. He thinks he’s God’s gift, but he’s really aggressive towards women when he’s had a drink.’

  ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’

  ‘I thought he’d gone. Pete hates him too. He threw him out before he started throwing up. I didn’t know he’d come back until I saw the look on your face and I just knew. Sorry.’

  ‘Not your fault. Now, will you get your fat arse off my bed so I can have a shower?’

  Five minutes later, I stood under the steaming water. An image of Taz pinning me to the wall filled my mind, just as it had done when I’d tried to fall asleep. I lightly touched my throbbing, bruised wrists. He’d been so strong. What would I have done if he’d kept his hand on my mouth instead of kissing me? I shuddered. I’d have been powerless to stop him. Fear made my breathing quicken. I closed my eyes as the water flowed over me and tried to push aside the feeling of my head scraping against the wall, the rancid smell of his breath, the strength of his grip.

  I delved deep into my memory banks, trying to dredge up a happy memory instead. A meadow. A ruined farmhouse. Strong arms around me, wanting me, protecting me. But there was something else there. Something wrong. Something…

  Despite the hot water, goosebumps prickled my entire body. I turned off the shower, grabbed my warm towel off the radiator and quickly rubbed myself dry. What the hell was that? I shook my head. Nothing. It was a delayed shock response to what had happened with Taz. I didn’t need to think about it anymore. I got away. I was safe.

  Ben’s black eye looked even blacker in full daylight. Damn. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. ‘Thanks again for last night.’ I nudged him playfully as we walked around his local park after lunch. ‘You can add “rescuing damsels in distress” to your saintly repertoire. I’ll never be getting the king back, at this rate.’

  He indicated that we should sit on a bench. I didn’t resist. I slumped beside him and sighed. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. ‘You’re not yourself today. I know you don’t like New Year, but it seems more than that.’

  ‘That feckin’ eejit Taz tried to attack me. Does there need to be more?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘No. It’s just that you seemed to be fine before your shower and you’ve been jumpy ever since.’

  ‘Have I?’

  ‘Yes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said that either Norman Bates or the closet monster had been waiting for you in the bathroom.’

  I shrugged. ‘Taz scared me but nothing happened, other than a scraped head and some bruises. Something did happen in the shower, though, and I can’t explain it. I was looking at my wrists and there was something, but I don’t know what. Like a dream or…’ I knew I wasn’t making sense. I shrugged again. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’

  ‘I’m not going to push it, but you just need to say the word and I’ll be here for you.’

  He meant it. I knew that. Sarah had always said he was a great brother – always looking out for her – and he’d done the same for me. I could trust him.

  ‘So, what was her excuse for abandoning you this New Year?’ I asked, eager to move the subject away from me.

  ‘Lebony?’

  ‘Unless there’s another woman you’re smitten with that I don’t know about. Other than me, of course.’

  Ben ran his fingers through his messy, dark hair and laughed. ‘Lebony’s in Vietnam at the moment and cash is tight.’

  ‘When did you last see her?’ As far as I could tell, she spent most of her time abroad on humanitarian projects and hardly any time with Ben. Apparently, her parents both worked for the Red Cross so it was in her blood.

  ‘April,’ Ben said. ‘She came back to the UK for her grandma’s 80th birthday.’

  ‘April? Jesus, Ben, what sort of relationship is that?’

  He gave me a wry smile. ‘I think the common terminology is a long-distance one.’

  ‘Duh. I know that. I just mean that there’s long-distance and then there’s what you and Lebony have.’

  ‘I know it might seem strange to some people, but the relationship works for both of us. She gets to travel the world doing good, and I get to pursue my hobbies without feeling guilty that I don’t give her enough time.’

  ‘What hobbies?’

  ‘Hospital Radio, the Samaritans, the Food Kitchen.’

  ‘Jesus, Ben. You work for a charity and you spend all your spare time volunteering. Don’t you ever do anything for you?’

  ‘Those things are for me. I get a lot of satisfaction from them.’

  ‘But you’d still get that sense of satisfaction if you ditched one of them and did something for you.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Take up base-jumping or something.’

  ‘And a sensible suggestion would be…?’

  I shrugged. ‘Going to the gym, reading a book, playing football. Whatever it is that men in their late 30s do.’

  ‘I do go to the gym. Can’t you tell?’ He
flexed a non-existent biceps muscle at me. ‘And late 30s? You cheeky nowt. I’m the same age as you.’

  ‘And I look so much better for it.’

  We sat in companionable silence watching couples and families wander around the park, enjoying the public holiday and the crisp weather.

  ‘I’ve got something for you,’ Ben said.

  He passed me the king.

  ‘We agreed you’d keep it,’ I said, frowning.

  ‘The deal was that you had to stay till midnight. By the time you’d iced my eye, it was after 12. And after what Taz tried to do to you…’ He shook his head. ‘He’s yours. No argument.’

  I took the king and placed him in my coat pocket. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  My iPhone bleeped a few minutes later. I dug it out of my bag.

  * From Elise

  I know you hate New Year, but Happy New Year anyway! I have the most amazing news. I’m moving in with Stevie! I have you to thank for that. I really do owe you big time. Hope you’re having fun whatever you’re doing xxx

  I grinned. ‘I don’t believe it. He actually did it!’

  ‘Who did what?’

  ‘Stevie asked Elise to move in with him.’

  ‘As in, a lodger?’

  ‘No. As in, his live-in girlfriend.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know they were seeing each other.’

  ‘They weren’t.’

  Ben frowned. ‘I’m all for a bit of romance, but how do you suddenly go from not dating to living together?’

  ‘It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.’

  ‘And since when did you and Elise become such good friends? You seemed really pally at Sarah’s wedding.’

  ‘Also a long story, and maybe I’ll tell you that one day too, but I can’t just yet so don’t you be asking me.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea what’s going on, but that’s the story of my life.’

  I lightly punched him on the arm, then winced as my wrists hurt. ‘Poor baby. Let’s walk again. I’m getting piles sitting here.’

  ‘Attractive,’ Ben said.

  ‘You know I’m irresistible to all men, women and small furry animals,’ I quipped.

  The sun – ahead of us and low in the sky – warmed my face as we walked along the River Aire. Despite the traumatic start, the walk and company were doing me good and the news from Elise had really made my day. The woman deserved a decent break. On top of my pep talk with Elise, I’d collared Stevie at Sarah’s wedding and suggested that Elise needed a ‘grand gesture’ to show he was serious about her. I’m not sure what I had in mind, but they didn’t come much more grand than moving in together. I looked forward to hearing the full details.

  I wondered how Sarah would react, though. To my knowledge, she had no idea that Elise was pregnant or in love with Stevie, so that was going to be a shock when she got back from honeymoon. The fact that I – Elise’s former archenemy – knew both things already wasn’t going to go down well at all. I’d seen her glance across at us during the wedding with a look of confusion on her face, as if not able to comprehend how we’d turned from enemies into friends. For my part, I’d grown up. For Elise’s, she needed someone, and I happened to be the someone who discovered her secret and promised to keep it. That hadn’t been difficult. After all, I was better than anyone at keeping secrets.

  Chapter 5

  January the second fell on a Thursday, so most of my team had taken that day and Friday as holidays, excited at the prospect of a five-day weekend so soon after the Christmas break. Had I? Bollocks to that. Why prolong the torture of New Year into yet another day and let it eke into your weekend too? I was up and working on my laptop by 6.30am, thankful for a return to normality. Working was my domain, my comfort zone, the place where I was completely in control. Eejits like Taz couldn’t get me at work. And I couldn’t think about them, either. I was far too busy and important.

  I was surprised when my iPhone rang at about 7.30 and my manager’s name flashed up on the screen.

  ‘Paul? I thought you weren’t working today.’ I stood up and wandered over to the full-length window and looked out over Leeds city centre. The view from the 14th floor of my rented apartment in Orion Point was pretty spectacular. I wasn’t sure if I liked it best in darkness, like now, with twinkling lights, or in bright sunshine when I could see for miles.

  ‘I’m not meant to be, but we’ve got a problem. I need you to clear your diary next week.’ I loved that Paul was always straight to the point; none of the pointless chitchat that so many of my colleagues seemed to favour.

  ‘Should be possible. Why?’

  ‘What about this weekend?’

  I turned away from the window, a sinking feeling in my stomach. ‘No plans yet.’

  ‘Good. Fabrian phoned. His dad died yesterday.’ Fabrian was my European equivalent, who’d announced at our last team meeting that his dad had terminal cancer and would be lucky to make it to Easter.

  ‘Poor Fabrian. You want me to cover for him?’ I hoped Paul would say a simple ‘yes’, but I knew that he’d have waited until Monday to have that conversation, which meant bad news was on the horizon. Please don’t let him say…

  ‘You need to go to Ireland. Specifically, Cork.’

  ‘No, Paul! Not Cork. Can’t Rick do it?’ Rick was my equivalent in the South.

  ‘He’s skiing.’

  Bollocks! ‘Surely there’s someone else?’ I sat down heavily at the dining table before my shaking legs gave way.

  ‘There’s nobody else, Clare. It needs to be you.’

  ‘Can’t it wait until Rick’s back? He’s covered for Fabrian before.’

  ‘No. You know this is a key account and we’ve been teetering close to losing it. There’s no way this meeting is getting delayed. You have to go.’

  Cork. Of all the bloody places in Europe where we had clients, why the hell did Fabrian have to have meetings next week in Cork? I could have happily jetted off to Paris, Barcelona or Rotterdam. But Cork?

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew from the tone of Paul’s voice that if I refused, he’d be issuing me with my P45. ‘When will I need to go?’

  ‘Saturday. There’s a charity ball and we’re hosting a table for them. You’ll have Sunday to yourself. Maybe you can catch up with some family if you’ve still got any there.’

  Family? Yeah, right. ‘When can I fly back?’

  ‘Fabrian had two days of meetings scheduled so I’d say Wednesday afternoon or evening, in case anything runs over. You can always work from the hotel if you finish sooner.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘We’re counting on you, Clare. Some serious bridge-building is needed and I know you’ll be perfect for the job. Margaret’s working today so I’ll get her to email you the details and sort out your tickets. Let me know how it goes.’

  I bid him goodbye and ended the call. Pushing my laptop out of the way, I slumped forward and lay my head on the table. Jesus. Cork? Why me? Could this shitty New Year get any worse?

  I felt sick during the train journey from Leeds to Manchester on the Saturday morning. I felt even worse during the flight from Manchester to Cork. I must have looked it too, as the old lady in the seat next to me reached into the storage pouch, handed me a sick bag and asked me if it was my first time flying.

  ‘No. It’s not the flight. I love planes,’ I said. ‘I just don’t love the thought of who lives at the other end.’

  ‘Oh. Boyfriend trouble?’ Her eyes widened with curiosity. She had one of those kind faces: the sort of trustworthy person with whom you instantly felt at ease. She reminded me of Sarah’s auntie Kay.

  ‘Parent trouble,’ I admitted. ‘They threw me out when I was 16 and we haven’t been in touch since.’

  ‘So this will be the first time you�
��ve seen them in, what, a decade?’

  I smiled. ‘Thanks for the compliment, but it’s been about 17 years.’

  ‘You have a very youthful face, but your eyes tell of a greater maturity than your years.’ She tilted her head to one side and stared at me thoughtfully. ‘Yes, you’ve known some hard times, so you have.’

  I swallowed on the lump in my throat and coughed. ‘It was a long time ago. Anyway, I’m being an eejit because I’m not even going to see them. I’m here for business and I’ve got no intention of visiting them. Ever.’

  The woman was silent for at least 10 minutes. I kicked myself for saying too much. She was probably only being friendly. She didn’t need to know my life story. This was more than I’d ever shared with Sarah, so why open up to a stranger on a plane? Seriously, Clare, learn when to shut up!

  ‘My parents threw me out too,’ she said, eventually. ‘I was 16, just like you.’

  Oh. I hadn’t screwed it up, after all. ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘I fell for a Protestant. You’d think I’d fallen for Hitler, the way they carried on.’

  ‘Did you ever see them again?’

  She shook her head. ‘My da was killed in a fire at the factory where he worked 10 years later. I went to his funeral, but Ma gave out big time, so she did. I think she’d gone a bit funny in the head because she blamed me for the accident. Seems it was the onset of Alzheimer’s. I took pity and tried to see her, but the nurses said I distressed her so I stayed away.’

  ‘What about your man? Your Protestant man?’

  ‘Oh, he’s grand. We’re still together. Four children, seven grandchildren and one great-grandbaby. I won’t be having any regrets about him, but I do wish I’d confronted my da before he died, to understand why he cut me off without even listening to me. We all have to face our past sooner or later. This trip could be too soon for you, but maybe later?’

  I shook my head vigorously. ‘No chance. My family are dead to me. Sorry if that sounds harsh.’

  ‘Throwing you out was harsh. But people can change. Sometimes.’

  The captain announced our approach to Cork airport. We fastened our seat belts and prepared to land. People change? Not my parents. But was she right about facing my past? I shivered and pulled my jacket more tightly across my body. Perhaps. But not this weekend. The incident with Taz had been bad enough, without facing my past as well.