A Dream to Die For

by Nicholas Faulkner

  As Mike was in the en-suite, he heard Victoria pull off the duvet and start the usual routines.

  ‘Jesus, Mike, have you reverted to being a teenager?’ Victoria was nothing if not direct in recent days and weeks.

  ‘What? I’m cleaning my teeth. Whatever you are wittering on about I am sure can wait till I have had a shower?’ Mike had grown accustomed to the bluntness of their communications. Victoria pushed open the door from the bedroom. She stood framed by the opening, the bed sheet in her hand.

  ‘Mike I appreciate you’re a bloke, have needs etc… but if you are going to wank in the night can you at least do so in the bathroom. This sheet is disgusting, are you 14?’

  Mike looked at his wife. He had started to get used to the feeling of indifference that had been growing in him where she was concerned over the last few weeks. However, what was welling up in him now were thoughts of real loathing. What he had experienced last night with Andrea had been special beyond words and to now have Victoria somehow denigrating it was more than he could bear. Mike pushed himself towards his wife, she remained standing in the doorway.

  ‘You miserable fucking bitch. Whatever happened in my bed, please note the term my – not our – bed is none of your sodding business, you dried-up barren old cow! I appreciate you do the washing, but when I last checked, my salary pays the mortgage, the council tax, the utilities and the bloody Tesco bill.’ Victoria went to open her mouth. ‘Don’t you dare fucking well interrupt me. When I last checked our bank statement that ridiculous excuse for a business of yours cost us two grand the other month because you are incapable of making any money. Thank God you couldn’t have children, you would have been hopeless at bringing them up too, I suggest the only work you are capable of doing is washing the sheets and if they are dirty. I don’t care. Next week I’ll make sure I wipe my arse on them.’

  Mike had not said so much in one go to his wife in over a week.

  ‘Now get out of my bloody way so I can get dressed. We still have to eat so I am going shopping.’ Mike moved his chair towards her. Victoria just dropped the sheet and burst into tears, she ran down the corridor and into her bedroom slamming the door shut behind her. Mike could hear her sobbing but he was past caring. He had soaked up so much over the last few weeks and perhaps some of what had been said had been inside him for months, if not years.

  Mike dressed himself and left the house without saying goodbye. He drove to the supermarket, got his chair out of the boot and hauled himself into it. He pushed himself from the car park and decided to go to the café first so he could have a coffee and a bacon sandwich. He was still feeling angry and the bacon sandwich, he felt, could be that little bit rebellious. After all, Victoria could not tell him off.

  As he sat down and started to eat his illicit breakfast, he casually looked up and saw Sophie walking over to him.

  ‘Oh God please not this morning. This is all I need,’ he thought to himself, but he had no where to escape to so he sat and waited for her to reach him.

  ‘Hi Mike, how are you?’ Sophie said as she reached the table.

  ‘I’m fine thanks Sophie,’ Mike lied. ‘Just back from uni? For the weekend?’

  ‘Nope, Easter holidays! Back for three weeks actually. Do you think Victoria would like some help in the shop?’ She sat down opposite Mike

  ‘I don’t know what my wife wants in the way of help, either in the shop or outside. Perhaps medical intervention… a frontal lobotomy may be best,’ Mike replied in a dead-pan delivery, without a trace of sarcasm.

  ‘Wow, Mike, what the fuck’s wrong with you? I just asked about doing a few hours in the shop!’ Sophie felt a little uncomfortable with Mike’s direct approach.

  ‘Sorry, domestic. You know, I bet your mum and dad must have them all the time… well I don’t mean all the time, obviously, just some of the time…’ Mike had finished his sandwich and reached for his coffee.

  ‘Oh God yes, I know. In that sense uni has been a blessing, not having to live permanently under the same roof. Although when we last met, if you don’t mind me mentioning it, you said you were happily married?’ Sophie’s demeanour started to change, she looked at Mike with a twinkle in her eyes. ‘Or were you just trying to play hard to get?’ She smirked at him.

  ‘Shall I grab a coffee and join you?’ she said, as she pushed her chair back and started to stand up.

  ‘Sophie, I am not in a good place right now… emotionally and any conversation with you is not going to help. In fact Victoria and I are really struggling, God alone knows if we will make it through—’ Mike stopped himself and thought, ‘In fact I don’t even know if we want to make it through.’

  Sophie leant forward across the small table and placed her arms around his neck.

  ‘You poor thing,’ she said tenderly, making sure her breasts just pushed into his chest. ‘You know where I am if you ever want to chat or…’ Sophie left the sentence hanging as she uncoiled herself from around him and stood up.

  ‘I’ll skip that coffee and leave you in peace.’ Sophie turned and walked out of the café without a backward glance.

  ‘Bye and thank you,’ Mike called after her in an absentminded sort of a way. He was still relishing the smell of her being that close to his face and the softness of the embrace.

  Mike did not undertake the usual shop that day. He had thought he would but started to adopt a different approach when he hit the fruit and veg section first with his trolley. He decided that after the morning’s debacle at home he and Victoria might as well eat separately as well as sleep in different beds. If he was going to house share with his wife, then the approach that all students adopted would be the way forward, they could keep food in different cupboards and separate shelves in the fridge. Mike did think perhaps he should only buy the food for himself, but at this stage that felt like taking matters too far. So he purchased various produce he knew Victoria would eat and like and others that he would stock for personal consumption.

  So for Victoria, he bought plenty of fresh cut fruit and salad, white wine, still water and yogurts, brown rolls, a number of packets of oriental soup and some boneless chicken breasts. For himself, he purchased apples and bananas, red wine and beer, sparkling water and white rolls. He treated himself to a steak for the evening, green salad leaves and avocado. He purchase cheese and ham and some extra condiments, redcurrant jelly and English mustard.

  Mike found the exercise surprisingly cathartic, was this another step in moving on with his life? What stage came after the Cold War he thought to himself, would this be winning the peace, or did that come along way down the line?

  When Mike got the shopping home he spent most of the rest of the day moving the contents of the kitchen cupboards around. He separated out the crockery and cutlery, labelled doors as being either Mike or Victoria and then split the food between cupboards in a similar way. For his ease he placed most of his cupboard contents on the floor units and most of Victoria’s in the higher units. He split the fridge by shelf and labelled those as well.

  When he’d arrived home, he’d half-expected Victoria to still be in her bedroom and he was pleased to find the house empty. She had obviously driven into Winchester to run the shop for the day he thought.

  By 5.30, the work was complete and Mike felt himself in control of his own destiny. It had after all been Victoria who had moved out of the bedroom lock, stock and barrel and so why should he not return the favour and split their kitchen up?

  ‘Time for a cold beer,’ he thought to himself as he placed the last sign on the fridge door shelf that he had filled with bottles of his favourite lager.

  Mike helped himself to one, opened the bottle and, holding it between his knees, pushed himself into the back garden to sit on the decking to enjoy the warmth of the sunshine. Their garden faced west and as the sun started to sink closer to the wall at the end of the lawn, Mike felt more relaxed in his real life than he had for some time. Perhaps he mused this gradual separation from Victoria was making
it easier to spend quality time with Andrea.

  The front door opened and Mike heard his wife’s footsteps she came straight out through the sitting room garden doors and onto the deck.

  ‘I am so glad to see you relaxed after your outburst this morning. I hope you enjoy your evening, I am going to shower and change and have an impromptu evening out with Jules. Apparently Gerald is at some weekend corporate golf do and she popped into the shop today for a chat – we arranged it then. Don’t bother to get up, oh silly me, I forgot you can’t!’ Victoria did not even wait for his reply as she turned on her heels and walked back into the house and Mike heard the bedroom door slam shut. He drained his beer and pushed himself into the kitchen to get another.

  It took Victoria around an hour and a half shuffling between the family bathroom and the spare bedroom to get ready. When she finally emerged, she did not look like Mike had seen her for a good few years. Her hair was up, full make-up with a tight cocktail dress that had a slit up one thigh and a plunging neck line. Mike had to admit his wife looked very attractive, although he realised it was not for his benefit.

  ‘Don’t wait up sweetie, heaven knows what time I’ll be back,’ Victoria said sarcastically as she swanned towards the front door. ‘Enjoy your wank darling. You never know I may find a man capable of standing up while we snog.’ And with that she was gone through the door.

  CHAPTER 9

  MIKE WAS surprised how the following weeks panned out. He slept in the master bedroom, commuted to work and when he returned, Victoria was sometimes there and sometimes not. He would fix his own dinner, almost without fail open a bottle of red wine and, after he had stacked the dishes in the dishwasher, would either adjourn to the study to work or the sitting room to watch sport on TV.

  Victoria had started to go out more often than not. Sometimes straight from work and sometimes she would come home first and then go out, usually looking rather lovely, or so Mike thought. He had not really considered Victoria in this way for some months now (or had it been years?) but now when she went out, Mike could not help but feel a little jealous.

  Despite the fact that they now seemed to be living two separate lives, Mike had been unable to make any further contact with Andrea. Their last meeting had seemed so special, so he thought, and yet he went to sleep night after night unable to connect with the woman that he loved. After two months, Mike started to doubt the relationship he had built up with her. The afterlife, the connections through his dreams, the life in death that had felt more real than his own living seemed to elude him.

  Even Victoria started to notice.

  ‘Darling,’ she said in a voice heavy with sarcasm on a Saturday morning, ‘I can’t help but notice the sheets have been remarkably clean for the last few weeks. I do hope you have not lost the use of everything down there now. I mean for a chap of your age that really must be a problem.’

  Mike could not bring himself to say anything. Perhaps she was right, in which case did it even matter? Mike knew that in his other world everything worked fine, even his legs.

  That night Mike had an early night. Victoria had gone out with Jules, supposedly to try a new restaurant that had opened in Winchester, and there was nothing much on television. As Mike swung himself into bed he hoped he would see Andrea and they could walk and talk, he missed her so much.

  ‘Mike.’ Andrea was standing in front of him on a bridge over a river. It was a footbridge and there did not seem anyone else around. Below them a clear stream rushed by no doubt making its way towards the sea. The water was sparkling and bright green plants drifted in the current.

  ‘This could be the Test Valley,’ thought Mike, ‘a few miles from Winchester.’

  ‘Mike, this is really not easy for me to say.’ Andrea was looking directly into his eyes, she seemed upset.

  ‘Hang on a minute, before you get into some deep and dark personal shit, I have missed you!’ Mike could not help himself as he tripped over his own words. They spilled out like he was some ineloquent teenager. ‘It has been bloody weeks and I wanted to see you every night. I have gone to sleep thinking of you, but you are never there. Did the last time we meet mean nothing to you?’

  Mike sounded accusingly, he regretted his tone the moment the words were out, but he tried to reconcile himself with the idea that they needed to be said.

  ‘Mike just calm down. I needed to give us some space. This is not easy for me either you know. I am in contact with you and see you going through all the trials and tribulations but cannot help as much as I would like. I know that there are some things that you need to work out for yourself. I feel very guilty that you’ve separated from your wife, even though you’re still living under the same roof… because you think you’re in love with a dead friend.’

  ‘Well fuck me!’ Mike was seeing red. ‘Think I am in love? That’s bloody rich. As God is my witness, why the sodding hell do I bother?’

  ‘If you don’t calm down, I’m going and, in case you need to be reminded, you can’t follow me Mike.’ Andrea was sounding quite authoritarian.

  ‘Well we shall see about that shall we?’ Mike was in no mood to be dictated to by a dead lover.

  ‘Oh, grow up Mike! When you’ve done so then perhaps we shall have another conversation.’ With that Andrea climbed over the bridge and jumped into the sparkling water and disappeared from site.

  ‘You fucking bitch!’

  Mike was furious and as quickly as he uttered the words he woke up. He was sweating profusely and felt uncomfortable in his sheets. He threw them off and with his usual ungainly gait made his way into the bathroom. He stood over the toilet having a pee.

  How in God’s name could he get this upset over Andrea? His life was in turmoil at home, he did not even particularly care about his 20-year marriage falling apart. He had wanted to spend some time with Andrea. He had wanted to hold her, to feel close to her, to be with her and yet she’d seemed so distant.

  Mike staggered back into the bedroom and instead of sitting back in bed dropped into his chair. He pushed himself out of the bedroom door and towards the family bathroom. As he did so he noticed the spare bedroom door was ajar, he looked inside, and Victoria was still not home. The room was in darkness the bed pristine.

  Mike opened the vanity unit below the bathroom basin, he reached for the medicine box, and quickly found what he was looking for, several boxes of sleeping tablets. Victoria had suffered from insomnia a few years previously and the doctor had prescribed these as a solution. In practice, after taking a few over a couple of weeks the matter had settled down and so the spare packets had languished at the bottom of the box.

  Mike then pushed himself towards the sitting room. He reached for the bottle of scotch from the drinks trolley and placed it in his lap where the boxes of sleeping pills were resting. He then pushed himself back into his bedroom and closed the door. He placed the bottle and the boxes of pills by his bed and positioned the chair so he could lift himself onto the duvet. He felt warm and wanted to lay on top of the covers.

  ‘Strange,’ thought Mike. ‘That’s the last time I’ll ever sit in that sodding chair.’ He reached for the scotch and swigged straight from the bottle, something he had never done in his life. Even in his most rebellious years at university, he’d used a glass for wine or spirits. Somehow to drink beer from a bottle or can was acceptable etiquette in his mind. He then reached for the first box of tablets. He popped two out of the blister pack and laid them in his hand.

  ‘Would this be difficult?’ he wondered. He opened his mouth and dropped both of them onto his tongue, he swigged again from the bottle and swallowed.

  ‘OK, that was easy…’ he said to himself. ‘Just another couple of hours and I can be with Andrea full time!’

  He reached for the pack and popped another couple of tablets out onto his palm. Without hesitation he popped them into his mouth. He drank from the bottle again and felt a little more relaxed. Mike looked again at his wheelchair, it had been his transport to th
e outside world and his prison at the same time. He had been in it during every important moment in his life since his graduation. In fact that had been the last event of his life that he had walked to unaided. Since then his graduation from Law School, his first job interview, his first court appearance, his attendance at the first partners meeting in his firm, his wedding day… yes, even his wedding day had been spent in that bloody chair.

  Mike took an even longer swig from his bottle, he leaned over and pushed the chair away as hard as he could. It twisted and fell on its side and as it did so Mike nearly fell out of bed. He steadied himself and sat back on his pillows, propped up on his cushions.

  ‘Fucking thing!’ he said out loud. He popped two more pills out of the blister pack and placed them on his tongue, before swigging them down with scotch.

  Mike had no idea of time, he felt himself drifting, and he felt peaceful and complete.

  ‘Mike, what the fuck have you done?’ Andrea was standing in a room, it was white as though it was some type of hospital room. No one else was there, she looked concerned and angry at the same time.

  ‘I wanted to be with you.’ Mike answered without hesitation and he did not straight away take in all his surroundings. ‘Has it worked? God am I really here? Is this it? I have to say it reminds me of waking up after my accident all those years ago in a hospital room to find out I could not walk properly again.’

  ‘Mike, for God’s sake what have you done?’ Andrea asked again. She was still standing and then Mike realised he was sitting in his wheelchair. He went to stand up and his legs collapsed and he fell heavily to the floor.

  ‘I don’t understand, why can’t I stand? I thought this was heaven? I have been here loads with you, why can’t I stand and walk and everything?’ Mike sounded incredulous, he felt cheated and angry.