Someone Else's Dream

by Colin Griffiths

  Head whirling was an overstatement as Carla walked back to her beach house, she had so wanted to end up in his arms that night but she knew it was so unlike her, she also felt that the moment would be worth waiting for. When she was past the caravans and could see her beach house in the distance, she glanced at her watch, it was only 10pm, she got out her mobile and pressed speed dial.

  “Whassup babes,” said Donna on the other end of the phone,

  “Nothing’s up babes, I just want to tell you about the most amazing date I’ve just been on,” Carla noticed the tone of the voice on the other end of the phone change to one of shock,

  “You dirty cow, I’m on my way over, I’m off work tomorrow, you got wine?”

  “I always got wine,” laughed Carla,

  “Hold them thoughts babe, I’m on my way.”

  Carla danced like an angel the rest of the way home, still holding the phone in her hand, she stepped off the beach and onto the lane still running and singing. Darren who was sat in the bushes watching thought he had never seen her so happy. He watched her as she opened her door and for a moment he was going to follow her, and he probably would off if it wasn’t for the car that pulled up moments later. Donna opened the unlatched door making sure to lock it again. Carla was sat out on the veranda with two glasses of wine poured and a grin as big as the ocean itself.

  “Tell me,” Donna demanded,

  Carla did so.

  “Fucking lesbians,” Darren mumbled from the bushes.

  12. Alone With Ones Thoughts.

  All was going well in Porthcawl to those who lived or visited there, back in Yorkshire minds were still being haunted. Mainly by the man who was comforting himself in a top hotel at a popular seaside resort.

  Dale Simpson lay in his hospital bed, still too sore and damaged to move from the position he held. Still trying to work out what had gone so wrong, so disastrously wrong over the past week. He had just found out that his wife to be was in the early stages of pregnancy and she had accepted his proposal of marriage, they had told all their friends and family. He had a model partner years younger than him, a beauty to behold; a dream for any man. A week later his life had been destroyed, no baby existed in the womb of his lover; no marriage certificate lay beckoning; no honeymoon to the Seychelles lay on the horizon. He would probably have to walk with a stick for the rest of his life. Even though his other wounds would heal; the feeling of hurt that lay inside of him would never reconcile. The damage had been done and the fault lay at another person’s doorstep.

  He had thought of himself as a good man; a good father and a good husband to his ex-wife and a good partner to Hayleigh. He wished only for their happiness; for that too would make him happy. A week ago he was living ‘Someone Else’s Dream’ now he was lying in his own nightmare.

  As his thoughts filled his head, he tried to blame it on himself, having a grave decimated was unspeakable; particularly the grave of his partner’s daughter. He shivered inside every time he thought about it. Then his thoughts would go back to why he had done it and the anger and rage would flood his body, somebody had slept with Hayleigh, the woman he loved the most; not only that they taunted him about it to such an extent that it caused him to react in an unimaginable way. There was only one person responsible for it all and he had to repay the debt, justice had to be served whether it through karma, or courts. Vigilante or enemies, there was one person who had to pay thought Dale Simpson, in his hospital bed. Matt Conner.

  * * *

  Marcia lay on the sofa of her modest one bedroom apartment in the village of Hatfield. Her emotions were as mixed as they had ever been in her life. Just a short while ago she was the most popular barmaid in town. Enjoying a fruitful; if not exciting life. She had a nice home, good friends that cared for her, loving parents that she could turn to whenever she wanted. One stupid evening of passion ruined all that as she seduced a man that she had known casually for years, who had turned out to be someone she had not known at all. She was now convinced that he was the assailant who viciously attacked her in the alleyway as she walked home. She had deleted his texts but she could clearly re-call the last one that he sent her, it told her ‘she was his whenever he wanted.’ The trouble was she had the feeling that she was; not a feeling that she wanted to be, but a feeling of having no choice. She felt that if Matt Conner walked in right now and took her there would not be a thing she could do about it. She would have to accept it as being his sex slave as no one would believe her. Matt Conner was the nice man of the village, the bereaved father of a daughter who was taken from him so tragically. A beautiful wife who had deserted him at his time of need. Everyone had empathy for Matt Conner.

  And as she lay on her sofa, sometimes quaking with fear, but trying to think nice thoughts about the man to come visit her at the weekend, there was only one thing going on through her mind. She had an opportunity to be with someone she really liked, someone who had touched heart strings she never knew she had, these should be the happiest days of her life, as she thought about it while resting on her sofa she knew one man would prevent her from having that happiness. Matt Conner.

  * * *

  Crazy Cavan regarded himself as a biker but had never actually owned a bike, not a legitimate bike, he had stolen a few and ridden them before returning them to the grateful but unsuspecting owner, but he had never had the finances to possess his own. He lived off benefits and the kindness of others who warmed to the big man. Neither beauty nor beast, neither hero or villain, Cavan was a take it or leave it man, a villain with morals. He was a man who liked to cover himself with friends and who had a distaste for violence, but had no qualms to resorting to it whenever it was necessary. His female friends were plentiful and usually short lived as soon as they attached themselves to him; he would leave them hanging where he found them, and to most of them that was not a good place. He was the local villain who could get the job done, as long as that job did not involve too much brain work. If the police ever came looking for him the community would clam up and back him to the hilt. Was it respect or fear? Cavan didn’t know, nor did he care. In fact Cavan didn’t care about anything until now. For the first time in his life he thought he was feeling a tinge of fear.

  Hayleigh had tugged at his heartstrings like no other woman before her. He had never met a woman like her, nor he guessed would he again. He was shocked at the level of damage the man caused to Dale Simpson, a man of high calibre and contacts. As he sat in his council flat he was thinking if he could do that to him, what could he do to me? When he had met the man he didn’t appear that colossus, but he had seen the results himself from a man laid up in hospital, and that was just to be a warning. He dreaded to think what the consequences would be if more than a warning was heeded to.

  He may have the opportunity of having sex with the most beautiful high class woman he had ever come across. He had even found himself showering more regularly since he had met her, but one thing was worrying him, if he ever tasted that honeypot, what would be the consequences. His simple life had been turned upside down within the last week. He had met the only woman he ever had the urge of a feeling for, but worse than that, as he sat in his flat thinking he had never feared a man before, he did now he thought. Matt Conner.

  * * *

  With a wine glass in one hand and the other laying across her stomach where something deep and resounding was once growing inside her; Hayleigh let the tears trickle down her cheek and onto her blouse. Her only absolution being the bottle of red on the table that lay before her. Her legs curled up on the sofa she had not moved from that position, except to pour a glass or open another bottle.

  The baby no longer grew inside her, and she knew she had to stop drinking the wine, she would stop tomorrow; because tonight it had brought her the comfort she craved. Marcia had not persuaded her to keep the baby, nor had she tried to, she only tried to understand what she was going through and try to re-assure her. She knew she would have gone through with the termination whe
ther Marcia was there or not, the fact that she was there, holding her hand whenever she could do so, to comfort her whenever she needed it; to say the words that she so needed to hear, even if those were not her own. It had brought comfort to her and she will always be grateful for that. She’s just another victim, she told herself, Marcia is just another victim, she repeated.

  She still held her position at the solicitors, she made sure of that during her discussions at the hospital with Dale; it will be him who’s moving on to pastures new with a recommendation that she receives the promotion she felt that she always deserved. She will become a senior partner, a position currently held by Dale.

  She still loved Dale, she knew that, but along with that feeling of love were another emotion; an emotion so similar that sometimes you could confuse them as being one. That emotion was hate, she hated him for what he had tried to do to Aimee; her daughter. She hated him for what he had become. The man she knew so well was nothing like he portrayed.

  Really it’s all my own fault, she told herself as she sipped her wine curled up on the sofa, the room was deathly silent, all she could hear was her own thoughts and they felt as if they were pounding away at her. Her own judgements would not stop banging away at her.

  What now appeared to be a million light years away was in fact just a week ago, when nervously she knocked on her ex-husbands door to tell him the news. Nervous but at the same time excited at her own future. She turned her nose up when she thought of both of them ripping their clothes off, she turned her nose up not because it was an unpleasant experience, and indeed it was as good if not better than she remembered. She turned her nose up because she hated herself for doing it. She hated Matt for allowing it.

  She felt alone now, taken to the world where she had to depend on a barmaid for saviour. Taken to a world where she promises people she would not normally look at twice the joy of sex. She smiled wryly but fondly as her thoughts drifted to Cavan, a simple man in a simple world. She felt alone because the men she loved were no longer there for her, she had to depend on the likes of a long haired greaser from Barnsley for her solace; that was the type of woman she thought she had become.

  No one will touch me now, she told herself, moving her hand from her stomach just to wipe away a tear, and it’s all one man’s fault, Matt Conner.

  13. Charlotte’s Dream at Last.

  It was early hours before they set off to bed, after consuming glass after glass of wine, the enthusiasm and vigour of Carla showing in abundance as she spoke about the new man in her life.

  “He’s a real man.” She had told Donna with heartiness,

  Donna was so pleased for her friends new found vitality, she longed to meet the man that had made her friend so happy. They went to bed together and slept naked, there was no love making, but at one time they found themselves cuddled up to each other’s naked bodies. It bore no significance, it brought comfort and warmth, nothing more was needed at that time.

  The morning brought the enthusiasm of the first day of spring, despite it being peak summertime, they both ate a hearty breakfast and Donna helped Carla get ready for her ‘date’ with her new man, she wore designer jeans and a lemon top, not daring at that stage to show off any flesh, underneath her outer clothing however, she did wear the new underwear that she had recently purchased, it made her feel sexy. Not that she was going to let Matt Conner see it, Carla thinking it was far too soon for that. The fact she was even thinking of it proved to herself that she wished it was going to happen.

  Donna walked with Carla along the beach to the fair ground and the bench to where they sat the night before eating candyfloss. She insisted Carla waited until five past one before she went to the bench. They both hid behind the burger van when Matt arrived at five to one. He sat on the bench looking nervous.

  “Wonder if he got a big one?” asked Donna to her friend,

  “I’ll let you know,” laughed Carla and both girls burst out laughing. Carla couldn’t wait until five past and at one minute past she come from the place where she was hiding to walk towards Matt. He saw her coming and he stood with his heart in his mouth. Carla herself had butterflies in her stomach.

  Matt had got up early that morning and filled himself up with coffee and bacon and eggs, he had gone to the shop for a newspaper and had sat in the hotel lounge area reading before showering to meet Carla. His sleep had been painless and deep, he felt in a good place, in a new world, his tomorrow had finally come.

  Donna stood and watch them embrace and tenderly kiss. She watched them as Carla put her arm in Matt’s. she watched them with pride as they walked off into the distance, it was only when they were out of sight did she leave to go back to the beach house to pick up her car, wishing beyond anything that Carla had at last found some happiness she deserved.

  “I fancy a decent coffee,” Matt told Carla as they walked. She took him to a quaint coffee shop where they ate coffee and scones with jam. Not once did they stop chatting, Carla found him so easy to talk to, he was a tentative listener. She found herself easily telling him about her childhood and her best friend Donna. She spoke fondly of her parents.

  Carla had given Donna a key to the beach house so she could let herself in to collect her stuff she had left there before going home. She sat in Carla’s lounge and loaded up Carla’s lap top and typed in the password. She directed herself to Carla’s Facebook page and clicked on the profile of Matt Conner, she wanted to find out more about the man who had her friends trust. His profile seemed ordinary enough and as she browsed the photos nothing of concern stood out until she looked at the photos of his daughter, some of them were of a child about three with two loving parents, Matt and someone tagged in as Hayleigh, the child’s mother. Donna’s heart went out to him a little, as Carla had informed him he was a widower and looking after his 6 year old daughter. She browsed through the photos of his daughter, she indeed was a beautiful little girl Donna thought, but the more she browsed the more curious she became, where are the more recent photos of his daughter, she asked herself. As she drove home it was still playing on her mind. She didn’t post the spare key through the letter box as promised, for no reasons other than an inkling, she placed it in her purse.

  Matt and Carla walked the high street of Porthcawl like lovers in arms. They took in the shops, the sea air, the scenery and each other. They soon found themselves walking into Porthcawl biggest department store. It was when they were in the electrical department Carla noticed the chubby figure dressed in a suit walking towards her; Smithy had a big smile on his face until he noticed that Carla was linked hand in hand to someone, she only broke that link when she saw Smithy’s head glare that way. Smithy had noticed the holding of hands and his face could not hide his expression of surprise.

  “Hey Carla, how are you?” he asked her with a smile, Carla acknowledged him with a smile of her own,

  “Hi Smithy, I forgot you worked here, look at you all booted and suited,” Carla mocked, they gave a small embrace, Smithy held out his hand to Matt,

  “I’m Smithy, one of the many managers in this store pleased to meet you,” said Smithy in a trained manner that suggested he was, Matt took his hand with a heavy shake,

  “Hi I’m Matt,” was all he said,

  Smithy recognised the accent as not being local which was not unusual considering many holiday makers used the store, he recognised it more so from the twang, it was the same twang the woman he had fallen in love with had spoken with.

  “Ah I see you’re from Yorkshire, what brings you up here with this beautiful lady,” he smiled at Carla, her face dropped, she knew what Smithy was getting at, at that time she wished she had been more considerate and not used the store, Matt noticed her face drop, but he was impressed with Smithy’s knowledge of accents.

  “Exactly what you just said, I’m up here to see this beautiful lady,” with that he grabbed Carla’s hand, Carla reluctantly accepted, she realised that Matt didn’t realise how embarrassing the situation was for her. Smit
hy took it all in.

  “Well I’ll bid you both good day, enjoy Porthcawl Matt,” Smithy told them, Matt acknowledged him with a smile before he walked off, Smithy told Carla, “I’ll tell Darren I bumped into you.”

  “Did I say something wrong,” asked Matt to Carla, he had noticed her mood change, she smiled longingly at him,

  “Of course not, come on let’s get out of here.”

  They got outside and walked hand in hand for a few minutes, Carla had grown quiet, she was thinking of Darren and that she should tell him she had met someone else, the trouble was she wasn’t sure she had, she had no idea how Matt felt. She was the first to speak after noticing the time was approaching 7pm.

  “I have had a lovely day Matt, but I should be going home now,” she noticed the look of disappointment on his face, Carla found herself going in for a kiss and they kissed passionately, Carla not believing she could show such emotion out in the street.

  “I really have had a lovely time,” she told him after their embrace parted,”

  “Can I see you tomorrow? I go home the day after, Matt pleaded,” Carla’s face lit up,