The last time Mike had touched Andrea in this way, they were alone in their favourite restaurant and he had leaned across the table and tucked her hair behind her ear. That must have been the week before the accident. He leaned down and stroked her hair, it fell across his lap as he did so. It felt silky and smooth, she smelled lovely. Andrea lay there in the sunshine, her lovely sparkling blue eyes hidden from view beneath her eye lids. She was not asleep, but looked so peaceful to Mike.
‘That is gorgeous, you deserve a sip of wine as a thank you.’ She said as she passed her glass up to him.
‘It was a pleasure.’ He meant it.
‘It’s funny, but when I’m dreaming with you my legs are always fine. In the normal world, I can’t cope with anyone leaning against my legs like this, the pressure you know. But here it does not seem to affect me. I can walk, stand without help and even now have you pressing against my thigh and it is not an issue.’
‘Funnily enough I have never seen you in a wheelchair.’ Andrea meant what she said. ‘I saw the person, the confident, articulate man, the man in control, I never saw the disability’
Mike was struggling with how to respond. Perhaps it was the wine, he felt so very flattered, and he couldn’t remember a time when someone had described him like that. It felt good.
‘Do you know how time works here?’ Mike asked, as he thought perhaps at some point he would have to wake up. He couldn’t rely upon another woman spilling coffee in his lap.
‘Not really, no! Although I guess that’s not the answer you want to hear.’ Andrea was trying to be helpful but appreciated her lack of knowledge. ‘Time is a little like sight here. Like I said, you don’t really see someone, you sense them. Equally, you don’t know how long things take, whatever you’re doing somehow fills the space you have available in time. You don’t know how many minutes or hours, it just takes that long. I’m beginning to realise that being dead – there, I’ve used the word myself – is just like being alive, only dreaming. You don’t really understand how long things take in dreams do you, you just dream.’
‘I appreciate I have not been that happy recently.’ Mike volunteered all of a sudden. ‘I did find it difficult with Victoria’s friend’s daughter walking around in the shop. I have never strayed from Victoria and then I start to feel guilty about our relationship. Is this straying, do you think? After all, it’s all in my head. That has just sounded so jumbled up! And I know we saw each other in the office and we enjoyed each other’s company, but nothing ever really happened, I mean did it?’
‘I suppose it depends upon how you describe the relationship we have. I am no threat to Victoria on a physical basis but I sense you would rather spend your time with me here than with her. And I do know you haven’t told her about me.’ Andrea was alarmingly accurate for Mike. ‘I don’t really understand why you haven’t mentioned our meetings, I guess it is a little difficult to explain to your wife that you enjoy spending time with your friend in the afterlife. There, that’s a much nicer way of putting it, isn’t it, than dead friend?’
Andrea smiled and Mike felt as though his whole life had instantly improved by just seeing her radiant face. Her eyes twinkled with happiness. ‘I guess,’ Andrea continued, ‘that it was somehow more difficult to explain our relationship when we saw each other most days and were, let’s be honest, becoming increasingly fond of each other. Now it should be easier to chat to Victoria about your dreams, because that is all I am, a dream.’
‘Oh Andrea, I just don’t know.’ Mike felt confused and worried. ‘In life we let things get too far, although we never actually… well you know!’ Mike thought he sounded like a teenager and hated himself for it. ‘And now I somehow feel even closer to you and want you even more. Frankly I think I need some help or another glass of red!’ Mike wanted to lighten the mood in the conversation.
‘As for Sophie, I think you should be careful there. I appreciate she is rather tempting but there is something a bit dangerous and that worries me on your behalf.’ Andrea said as she held out her hand for the return of the glass of red. Mike had drained nearly half of the large glass.
‘Well I hardly think that is helping me. I appreciate your warning, but Sophie is not my main concern right now. I can control my base animal instincts! Well just!’ Mike smiled, he was more concerned with the confusion he felt over his wife and Andrea.
‘Shall we walk on the grass?’ Andrea asked. As they both stood Mike felt completely normal walking along, their hands casually touched as their arms gently swayed. Mike noticed the glass had gone.
‘What happened to the glass of red?’ He was intrigued.
‘When you’ve finished with things here they simply vanish. It’s actually rather useful.’ Andrea had now reached for his hand and their fingers loosely entwined. Mike felt very safe all of a sudden, as though nothing else could harm him.
‘The view is to die for, the rolling grass meadow and those trees in the valley over there to the right.’ Mike and Andrea had stopped and they stood close together drinking in the scene.
‘Unfortunate choice of phrase, my dear!’ Andrea had a wry smile on her face.
‘Fuck, that was not very tactful of me!’ Mike was pleased to see Andrea was seeing the funny side of his terminology.
‘I’m sorry but we are going to have to call it a day for now,’ said Andrea as she turned towards him. ‘We’ll see each other again very soon.’
With that Andrea melted away, becoming part of the beautiful scene. Their hands slipping apart, leaving Mike alone.
Instantly Mike missed her, he missed her closeness, her hand in his. He missed looking into those lovely eyes. He missed that feeling of safety, security… of home.
‘Darling, I am so sorry, I must have fallen asleep on the train.’ Mike was on his mobile phone to Victoria, he was sitting in his wheelchair on the platform at Southampton Parkway, the next stop after Winchester. He was feeling flustered and guilty.
‘You never fall asleep for that long! I hope you’ve not been drinking on the train again? You promised me that was a habit you were going to stop.’ Victoria was clearly not in a very understanding mood.
‘No I haven’t!’ Mike was livid at being treated like a teenager. However he knew it was his fault for falling asleep and he did not want the weekend to start with a row. ‘I’ll grab a cab straight back home and we can collect the car tomorrow morning from Winchester station.’
‘Whatever! I’ve made a lovely dinner as a thank you for all your help this week. I’ll see if I can rescue it. See you in 45 minutes or so.’
Victoria put the phone down, walked across the kitchen and pored herself a large glass of white wine from the fridge. Mike had been acting strangely lately, he never overslept on the train home. She felt annoyed that he would not appreciate the trouble she had been to by way of thanks for all his support this week. ‘You never know,’ she thought to herself after a nice meal, a bottle of wine perhaps we could have found some of that old intimacy.’ Victoria drained a large mouthful of the chilled white. ‘Why should I make all the bloody effort?’ She thought, as she looked at the tagine bubbling away with Chicken and preserved lemons on the range cooker.
Back at Southampton Mike pushed himself to the taxi rank. Why did he feel so bad, all he had done was fall asleep and have a dream, yet he felt he had been so disloyal to Victoria? He had a friend who was dead, and even when she was alive they had never got past an intimate lunch, for God sake, so why did he feel so bad?
‘Winchester, please mate’ Mike said as he approached the first cab in the row. ‘18 Priory Place - it’s just off the Stockbridge Road. I can give you directions when we’re nearly there.’
The journey didn’t take long. On arrival Mike paid the cab driver and pushed himself in his wheelchair up the drive to the front door.
‘I am so sorry, I was short with you,’ Victoria said as she opened the door. She stood there looking lovely and Mike was relieved. ‘I know you don’t drink on the train coming
home any more and even if you had then I shouldn’t have questioned it. After all I hope I am your wife not your mother.’ Victoria had mellowed with her wine and although would not admit it the dinner had needed the extra slow heat over the last 40 minutes to really marinate the flavours. The smell of Morocco wafted out of the front door to greet Mike along with his wife.
‘I am sorry too, darling, I just feel asleep.’ Victoria bent down and kissed him, their lips brushed together
‘Hang on I can smell red wine! Mike I don’t care if you had a glass, I just said that but why did you have to lie to me?’ Victoria had straightened up and was instantly angry with him.
‘I didn’t have a bloody glass of wine! I feel asleep, I have apologised already, I am sorry about dinner, I am sure it will still be lovely.’ Mike was feeling guiltier with every syllable that he uttered. How could the taste possibly come from his dream? It was a dream wasn’t it? Had he just been in the afterlife as Andrea had put it? In which case how did he manage to cross between the two?
Mike felt confused and guilty. The time he had spent with Andrea had been lovely and suddenly he was being brought back down to earth with a bump, and he didn’t like it.
Mike pushed himself into the house and straight into the kitchen where the table was set for dinner. A bottle of red was open on the table. He poured himself out a glass and took a long swig. This evening could go either way, it hung in the balance between the row from hell and companionable silence interspersed with a few pleasantries before bed.
The companionable silence reigned. Mike wanted to say sorry, to tell Victoria he had not drunk red wine, to explain his dream, perhaps even it was time to explain to his wife that he had always been faithful, but had enjoyed Andrea’s company but that he now missed her so much it hurt inside. Mike wanted to make it work with Victoria, but how could he when she knew nothing of that private side of his life. Did she need to know, and even if she didn’t, why did he feel a need to tell her? To unburden his soul, to put things behind him and try and enjoy the life he had with his wife.
Victoria drank her white wine and talked of the takings from the shop that week. A better year than the last – she was speaking as though she were a parent, proud of the accomplishment of her child who, having spent hours of time being ferried around for some club or other had now performed at their best in competition and all that support had now paid off. The empty white wine bottle clinked in the bag in the utility room to be taken for recycling over the weekend – by 11pm it had been drained by Victoria, who felt she had deserved the treat after such a week.
CHAPTER 4
THE FOLLOWING week passed without incident. For Mike this meant he did not dream about Andrea. He got up, he left the house, he commuted, he worked and he came home. Life post Valentine’s Day settled back as it should. Victoria was content and they seemed to rub along. Victoria had not mentioned the wine again from Mike’s train trip but he noticed when they kissed in the evening she seemed to let her lips linger a little longer than usual, was she being loving or checking up on him?
What was it his old boss from all those years had said? ‘Only the paranoid survive?’ Well if he was being paranoid, he really had no need to be. Without dreaming of Andrea he had no need to worry about having an illicit glass of wine be it in this life or the next.
‘I had Jules come in the shop today.’ They were organising dinner. It was a Thursday evening and Mike was stirring the pasta sauce on the hob. Victoria was laying the table. ‘She wondered if you could help Sophie with some law paper thing. I said you would be delighted, I didn’t mention the fact that you struggled to keep your eyes off her when she helps me out in the shop.’
‘Yes she is pretty but I don’t think I’m some sort of pervert!’ Mike was more than a little affronted by his wife’s comments. He remembered how relieved he had been when she had arrived at the shop in the van when Sophie had, as far as Mike was concerned, crossed a line in their last conversation together.
‘Well I forgot to text you at work today, sorry! She is coming over around 7.30 tonight.’ Victoria sounded as though she did not care about changing whatever Mike’s arrangements had been for that evening. ‘I’ll be off at the Pilates class but should be back around 10 after a drink with Jules. Try not to get into any trouble’
‘I won’t get into trouble thank you and frankly I would rather stay in and watch the football with a couple of beers.’ Mike was feeling uncomfortable at the very thought of Sophie coming over without Victoria around and while he was not the greatest sports fan he would have preferred to have the evening he had planned rather than the one his wife had organised without checking with him first. ‘In fact can you please contact her and let her know it is simply not convenient. I mean, bloody hell darling, I really don’t like having things sprung on me, you know that.’
‘Me thinks you protest too much sweetie. Well I am sure you will not chase her around in your wheelchair!’ Victoria seemed oblivious to Mike’s irritation over the evening. ‘Although that is very nice of you to call me darling, you have not done that for some time.’
‘Well,’ thought Mike ‘Perhaps we have started to turn a corner after Valentine’s Day and if that’s the case, helping out Sophie tonight may be just another step along the way.’
‘OK, as usual I shall agree!’ Mike had wanted to sound conciliatory and magnanimous, but, somehow unusually for him, it had come out quite wrong.
‘Thank you, I did say I was sorry for forgetting to text you and I had promised Jules you would help her, I really didn’t think it would be such an inconvenience.’ Victoria sounded grateful to Mike.
Just as dinner was finished, right on time they heard a car pull up on the drive. ‘Your young lady has arrived!’ Victoria clearly could not care how her remarks were affecting Mike. ‘And thank you again for helping her.’ Victoria’s afterthought had eased her initial comment.
‘Come on in Sophie, Mike’s in the kitchen. I have to go off to Pilates so you two can bore yourselves silly with land law.’ Victoria brushed past Sophie in the hall and Mike heard the front door close behind her just as she was saying, ‘Love you darling!’
Sophie walked into the kitchen. She was in jeans and a wax jacket that looked as though it covered some sort of university sweatshirt hoody top and she had a rucksack which was casually hanging from her left shoulder. Mike turned his wheelchair to face her.
‘Hi Sophie! I’m sorry, Victoria forgot to let me know during the day that you would be popping in. I’m happy to help but I’m afraid all my text books are at the office. We can always look things up online though. I’ll go and get the laptop. We can work in the kitchen, it’s the best room for wireless.’ Mike sounded friendly and at the same time business-like. He had no wish to come across as brusque, but neither did he want any embarrassment.
Sophie smiled at him ‘Thanks Mike, I owe you for helping me with this sudden assignment. Shall I pop the dishes by the sink to clear the table?’
‘Great thanks,’ said Mike as he pushed himself passed her towards the hallway so he could recover his laptop from the study.
In a couple of moments Mike was back, laptop on his lap. Sophie turned from the sink where she had just left the last of the pasta dishes. Mike pushed himself to the table, popped the laptop on to it and opened it up.
‘OK, so where is this dreaded assignment then?’ Mike asked. He was starting to relax, maybe this was not going to be too bad after all. Perhaps if he managed to get through matters quickly he may even get to see the second half of the match. Sophie reached into her rucksack and pulled out a file containing a word processed document several pages long.
‘Well this is how far I have got, could you take a look and let me know if I have covered all the Law of Property Act stuff from 1925. It is all on 146 notice procedures.’ Sophie passed Mike the papers. ‘Shall I pop the kettle on while you read?’ Sophie did not wait for an answer but started to move towards the kettle.
‘Sure, thanks, I woul
d prefer a beer but I suppose we have to keep clear heads.’ Mike opened the papers and started to read. He did not look up as Sophie removed her jacket and put it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
By the time the kettle had boiled and Sophie set down two cups of tea on the table Mike had speed-read about half the document.
‘This is first-class Sophie, you’re a bright kid,’ Mike said, before adding, ‘sorry that sounded patronising – I didn’t mean it. This is really very good. As long as you bring in the effect of the 2002 Act in the next part you have this licked.’ Mike really was impressed, perhaps he would have to consider offering Sophie a placement with his firm after her degree. Gerald had raised the issue with him during the Christmas drinks and he had skirted around it. He disliked his arm being twisted by a friend for a favour, but having read her work, perhaps he thought she could justify a place on merit. Whether Gerald would see it that way would be a different matter…
‘Thanks, I did try and cover most of the points.’ Sophie was sitting next to Mike. ‘I think I did the bit about that Act on page nine.’ Sophie leant across Mike and turned the pages. Mike suddenly became aware of how close she was and he stopped being engrossed in the law and realised her breasts were brushing his arm.
‘Well let us just read that part, then.’ Mike started to feel uncomfortable all over again, just like Valentine’s Day at the shop. Only this time there would be no Victoria arriving in the little van to save him, at least certainly not for the next hour or more.
A Dream to Die For Page 4