The Man of my Dreams

by Quintal, Gladys

  He was suddenly beside me, head in his hands and looking so sad. My heart ached and I wanted so badly to hold him and say it was okay. I would always love him, no matter what. But something in his tone disturbed me and I wondered what this big secret was. How could he be anything but good? He was so loving and kind, not to mention drop dead gorgeous! I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, declaring my feelings.

  I love you and I think we both know that I can't go back. I can’t forget you and move on . . . you are part of me now.

  He raised his head and looked into my eyes. I melted inside. There was such sorrow in his look, mixed with longing. Longing to be loved. Longing to be accepted. I could see the inner turmoil. He wanted so much to love me but was afraid—afraid of what that would mean.

  Please, I begged, burying my head into his chest. Don’t leave me again. I cannot bear to be without you!

  He looked utterly dejected and said, My heart is breaking, but it could never work. We're from different worlds and we don’t fit into each other’s lives. I can’t come into yours and I could never ask you to be part of mine.

  Don’t shut me out! Please let me in! I cried. Don’t you understand? I need you. You've been with me through every tragedy in my life, since I was 17. How could I live without you now?

  I've been around longer than that, he said. We're linked you and I, and I don't know how to break the chain that connects us. But I must try, or I fear you'll be destroyed by what you find.

  He turned to walk away, but I grabbed him and flung myself against him. I didn't understand. He obviously loved me, so why did he have to leave? Why couldn’t he just tell me? He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, kissing my hair. I could hear his heart beating and lifted my head to look into his eyes. I think at that moment I knew I would forgive him anything if only he would kiss me. As if reading my thoughts again he bent his head and kissed me softly on the lips.

  I will always love you, he said. It's a matter of being cruel to be kind, so to speak. There are things about me you cannot know. I'm destined to be alone for ever.

  He moved his hand to my stomach and smiled.

  I've given you a gift my love. Please do not blame this child for what his father has become. Do not let the sins of the father fall onto his son. For he is innocent like you.

  The alarm in my queasy belly went off. Great timing, as usual. I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. What did he mean? How could he possibly be this baby’s father? It made me a darn sight happier to think of him as the father than Paul! Quick shower, breakfast and then off to work. How I was going to concentrate at work today was beyond me!

  Chapter 10

  Rude Awakenings

  I was still feeling a little queasy but found that ginger and vitamin B6 eased it a little. I arrived at work five minutes late and got a scowl from the Ward Sister. Apologising, I quickly put my bag in the smoko room and headed back to the Nurse's Station.

  “How are you today?” Maria looked at me with real concern in her face. “Try not to overdo things, okay?”

  I smiled.

  “I'll be fine, don’t worry."

  “Okay," she said, still looking as if she didn’t quite believe me. “Jenny is going home today."

  I wanted to see her before she left. Something about Jenny’s story seemed so familiar and I thought maybe if I talked to her some more it might shed some light on why. I assigned myself to be her "checking out" person and headed off to see her.

  She was happy to be going home.

  “How are you today?” I asked. “Have you organised someone to pick you up later?”

  She smiled and nodded. “My mum will be here after lunch. I feel so happy to be alive, you know, and it's all thanks to the Ghost. I honestly hope the police never figure out where he came from.”

  I agreed. The Ghost was doing a good job at cleaning up the streets. Jenny seemed so happy now, especially knowing the man who had attacked her was dead and no longer a threat.

  “I owe him my life, not to mention stopping that man from . . . ” She stopped and looked at me.

  There was no need to say the words. As women, we both knew the fear of being raped.

  “For some reason, Jenny, I have a feeling of de javu when you tell your story. I'm not sure why, but I have this niggling deep down that I've heard or seen something to do with this guy.”

  “Maybe he saved you in another life?” she said. She wasn’t smiling and stared at me, quite serious.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  I got all the paperwork sorted and said goodbye, giving Jenny a hug and wishing her luck before I left.

  I was very curious about her case. Why I felt so connected to it, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the fact that I'd survived a crash and, like Jenny, ended up at this hospital with no explanation of how I got here. Did the Ghost have something to do with saving me from the car accident that killed my parents? Now I was getting curious.

  I went to the file room and found Jenny’s records. I read her statements about the attack and her account of blacking out and waking up at the hospital, so similar to my own experiences. I couldn’t remember the car accident and only recalled waking up in this very same hospital. I wonder? I started to search for my own file. I read about how I had no next of kin as both my parents were deceased, and how the hospital staff had found me on the front steps, unconscious.

  Hang on a minute . . . there was another page in here. But I couldn’t remember ever being in hospital before. It was 20 years ago. How could I not know about this? I began reading the page.

  “Repeatedly raped, strangled by stepfather . . .”

  This couldn’t be me! I never had a stepfather and I'd never been raped or strangled! But the document had my name on it and date of birth. I stared at the page in disbelief. What the hell was going on?

  Chapter 11

  Past Life

  My head was spinning. What was going on? I'd never been “almost” murdered and my parents had still been happily married and together when they died. It must be a mistake. Yet my name and birth date were accurate and deep inside me I knew something wasn’t right. How could I find out now? Both my parents were dead. I kept staring at the paper in front of me. It couldn’t be me. Surely I'd remember something so horrible happening in my childhood? I tried to think, but my ears were ringing and I had to sit down. Could it be me? How could I not know about this? How could I have been raped and strangled and have no memory of it? I felt dizzy and numb all over. Had my parents broken up at one stage? Had mum remarried, this time to a monster? None of this made any sense. One thing was certain, though. I was damn well going to find out!

  “What’s this?’ Maria asked me when I handed her the file at lunch.

  “It’s my file,” I said.

  She frowned and opened it.

  “What do you mean your file? From when you were in the accident? Why would you want to dredge all that up again, Hun? Nothing good can come of looking at things so morbid.”

  She had that worried look on her face, one I'd seen so many times over the past few weeks.

  “Read it,” I said sternly, picking up my coffee and taking a sip.

  She looked at me, realizing I was deadly serious. She started to read the paper in front of her—the one from many years earlier when I'd been sexually abused and strangled by a stepfather who didn’t exist. She read in total silence, then looked up at me with horror in her eyes.

  “This can’t be right! You had a wonderful childhood and your parents surely would have told you if anything like this had happened?”

  “That's what I thought at first, too, but look at the name and birth date. I'm going to investigate, Maria. I have to know the truth.”

  For once in her life Maria was speechless. The silence seemed to last for ages until finally she broke it.

  “You should ask Moyra. She's worked at this hospital for over 20 years. A case like this would surely stick in her mind. She might remember something.�
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  I jumped up from the table and ran over to Maria, giving her a big hug and kissing her on the cheek.

  “What a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that? Moyra would certainly remember, and we know what a big gossip she is. She won’t be able to keep it to herself. Oh thank you Maria, I knew you'd help me!”

  I grabbed my file, kissed her again and ran off to find Moyra and continue my quest for answers.

  Chapter 12

  Retracing Steps

  No one really knew exactly how old Moyra was. She'd been at this hospital for as long as any of us could remember and had to be in her late 50s, if not older. She held her age well, though, and although a lot of us hazarded guesses, none of us were brave enough to actually ask her. Her hair was long and dark and was only now starting to show slight streaks of grey. She had a lovely, friendly face and smiled a lot. On her frame were the biggest boobs I'd ever seen! She wasn’t on the medical staff but worked in patient filing. If there were any major cases or gossip going on in the hospital, you could be sure Moyra knew about it.

  I decided to approach her as if I was asking about someone other than myself. If she knew I was snooping into my own case file, she may be a little tight-lipped. If it was gossip about someone else, however, I was sure she'd freely spill the beans.

  “Hello love, what brings you here?” she asked in her lovely English accent, peering over top of her glasses. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she smiled at me.

  “Hi Moyra, I was wondering if you could help me with an old patient note I found. I came across it this morning and wondered if you remembered anything about it. It was a young girl who'd been sexually abused by her stepfather. He tried to strangle her. She was brought to this hospital about twenty years ago and I wondered if you were here then?”

  She wrinkled her brow and pursed her lips searching her thoughts.

  “Oh yes,” she replied, “I remember that. She was in a coma for a while. When she woke up she couldn’t remember anything about the attack or anything about the last few years. Very traumatic for the poor wee thing, and to think it was the fault of her own mother to leave her with that awful man! Poor girl had been abused as well, and her mother had no idea until the hospital informed her.”

  I shuddered. Had my mother left me to be abused and tortured by some maniac? It sure didn’t sound like the mother I knew and loved.

  "Do you remember anything else, Moyra?” I asked, trying not to look too eager. My hands were trembling and I stuck them into my pockets, trying to look as natural as possible.

  Moyra seemed a little suspicious now.

  “Why do you ask, Petal? Do you know her or something?”

  “Just curious after seeing the note, that’s all," I said trying to look convincing. “Thanks for the info, Moyra,” I said with a tight smile as I headed back to the wards.

  “There was something about her raving about a Guardian Angel when they first brought her in," she shouted after me.

  I kept walking and waved over my shoulder.

  "Thanks, talk to you soon." I could feel her eyes watching me as I turned the corner.

  Okay, so now what do I do? Moyra pretty much confirmed what I'd read, and now I needed to do a little research to confirm if the young victim was actually me . . . but where to start? Births, Deaths and Marriages would show if mum and dad had divorced and whether or not she remarried.

  Maybe I could Google my story and see what came up. So many questions swirled round and round in my head. I had to find out and sooner rather than later. I decided to nip into the library during my break and have a quick look at the Internet.

  3 p.m. seemed to drag, but finally I was able to get to a computer. I typed in “young girl strangled by stepfather” and was shocked at how many hits I got. Okay, so I'd have to narrow it down. I knew the year was around 1990 and I also typed in the name of the hospital.

  This time I found it. I started to read one of the newspaper reports. It said a 13-year-old girl had been almost choked to death by her stepfather and was in a coma, later waking up with no memory of her attacker or the last two years. The assailant had later been found by police dead, literally ripped to pieces in his own car. There were no leads to whomever or whatever had done it and enquiries were still continuing. I looked at a few more, mostly the same. One, however, confirmed what Moyra had said about me ranting on about a Guardian Angel.

  My break was up and I had to get back to work. Great, now I was left with even more questions. I would look online later, at home. I wondered what else I could find.

  I was walking back to my car totally absorbed with my thoughts when suddenly someone ran up behind me and grabbed me round the shoulders. I got a fright until a familiar voice said, “Hi, I’m back. Did you miss me?”

  “Of course I missed you, Hayley! When did you get back?”

  She bounced around, smiling

  “Late last night. I slept most of today but thought I'd try and catch up this arvo. What are you doing after work?”

  Hayley was one of our midwives and I found her very easy to get on with. She was always smiling and happy, loved life, and totally enjoyed her job.

  “Was thinking about doing some shopping . . . why? Did you want to come over for a chat and catch up?

  “Definitely," she said literally beaming. “I'll grab us some champagne and sorbet and make some slushies."

  “Better make it lemonade or non-alcoholic champers if you can find some. Don’t want this kid coming out with FAS!”

  She gasped.

  “Oh you’re not, are you?”

  I nodded and smiled.

  She was so excited she jumped up and down on the spot. I had to go back to work and asked her to meet me at home around 9 this evening. Then I could tell her everything. She hugged me again, kissed me on the cheek, and practically skipped off down the street. She always made me smile and I felt a little better as I drove back to the hospital.

  Chapter 13

  Your Worst Nightmare

  The man sat in his car, waiting for her to appear. He'd been watching her from afar for a long time now. Recently she'd gone away for a while and he'd never found out where. He just knew she wasn’t going to work every day as usual. He'd memorised her schedule and knew her shifts well. Now she was back, and he sat patiently waiting for her to get out of her car. He watched and waited, diligent and focused. He was drawn to her as he'd been to the others, but everything had to be perfect before putting his plan into action.

  He'd taken his time with each one of them, but they'd all led to disappointment, all crying like pathetic little children for him to let them go. Not one of them could return the love he obviously possessed for them. He'd given them everything and still they did not love him or even appreciate him. For their disloyalty they'd paid the ultimate price—with their lives. Well, if he could not have their unconditional love he didn’t see why any other man should, either.

  Yes, he would make the perfect husband and worship the ground she walked on. All he'd expect in return was her total devotion to him in the bedroom. It wasn’t too much for a man to ask from his wife. After all, wasn't it her duty to satisfy his every sexual need? The others had all been prudes and weren't willing to even try to please him.

  "Why do they always shy away from me in disgust?" he wondered.

  He was a good looking man who had a healthy sexual appetite and needed a woman who understood this. So far he hadn't found “The One.” They cowered and begged him not to hurt them. It wasn’t as if they were virginal and unaccustomed to the touch of a man. He had surveilled their exploits and conquests well before even taking them on their first date.

  He knew how a woman should be treated. He would certainly shower his newest love interest with gifts, cook a beautiful meal with expensive wine, and set a romantic scene. Oh, he'd spare no expense and show her what being with him could be like. The others always whinged and moaned about going home without making an effort to reciprocate his feelings. Once in the bedroom th
ey were totally clueless as to how to please their man. Surely this time would be different?

  Once his conquests stepped foot into his love room they'd become hysterical and try to escape. He'd have to restrain them and tape their mouths shut to stop the screaming and struggling. He only wanted to teach them how to do it properly. No pain no gain, wasn’t that the motto? Well, he'd certainly shown them the pain but had so far fallen short on the gain.

  True, they managed to get him in the mood but a few of them had died during the foreplay, well before he'd even finished his love making. Weak! How was he meant to finish when they went and died on him? He did prefer his woman to be moving and resorted to having sex with their lifeless bodies only out of necessity. Most, however, survived right to the end. Still, they lacked that certain something to leave him feeling fulfilled. Then afterwards they'd become babies, whimpering and pleading to be set free. Well he'd set them free, all right. They could swim with the fishes for all he cared. It was unbelievable how ungrateful they were, especially after learning what it meant to be made love to by a real man.

  He hoped this one would live up to his expectations.

  He knew she lived alone, as he'd followed her home a few times. It was obvious her boyfriend no longer lived there. She shouldn’t be too hard to woo, and he'd start the courtship very soon. He started to feel himself stir and harden in anticipation. He could hardly wait! Maybe this one could please him the way he longed to be pleased. But he must be patient and make sure everything was as it should be, or his efforts would all be for nothing. Tomorrow she was on the afternoon shift and then off work for a few days. That's when he'd strike. No one would notice if she was away for a few days.