Dream a Little Dream (27 page)

Dan hangs his head, raises my hands to his lips and kisses them before clutching them to his heart.

This time I lean forward and give him a hug.

We sit there in an embrace for a few moments and I feel my anger wane. A huge part of me will always love the guy in my arms. Yes, he’s a total twat at times and has done some heinous things to me, but he’s also someone that I cared for for a very long time and who I shared so much with. Seeing as he’s going to be in my life, whether I like it or not, I should probably let myself see the good again, rather than recoil in horror whenever he’s near.

Just being there with him, in this less hostile manner, causes a literal weight to be lifted. I could say I wished we’d talked months ago about our situation, but I don’t think I was ready to hear it then. Now I am. Now I know that if I open my heart again, it won’t be sadly longing for Dan’s affection, instead it’s moving forward.

‘I can’t believe we’re having this chat today,’ he exhales,
breaking away from our hug and rubbing his hands along his cheeks. ‘I was an emotional wreck already.’

‘Same,’ I say, wiping my face once more, breathing out a puff of air as I think about everything that’s happened in the past twelve hours. ‘I’d better get going.’

‘You heading into work?’ he asks, looking surprised.

I nod. ‘Carly’s got Josh there with her today. Wanted to give those guys some space.’

‘You could always come over to mine if you don’t fancy going in? Lexie would understand if you wanted somewhere to go,’ he adds, letting me know it’s not a scandalous offer.

‘Actually, I think keeping busy will do me good. Plus it’s manic there,’ I say, standing, not entirely sure that the setting of their happy home is where I’d like to be today either – even if we have just patched up our troubled friendship.

‘Of course. Well, I’m going to go for a run and continue to skive,’ he says, also getting to his feet.

‘Right, well you have fun,’ I say.

We stand awkwardly, looking at one another, unsure how to say goodbye.

‘Thank you,’ he says, gently pulling me close, softly giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I close my eyes and receive his love.

I squeeze his hand and turn on my heels before the tender gesture makes me burst into tears.

‘I’ve been wondering where you’d got to,’ says Jonathan when I eventually get to the office half an hour later than normal.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I say, turning from my desk to face him.

I must look awful because his expression suddenly changes to one of fear – probably worried I’m about to ugly-girl wail in the office and cause a scene, meaning he’d have to bumble around trying to offer some sort of awkward comfort.

‘Ah, no problem. I’ll be in here,’ he mutters, widening his eyes at Julie before turning back into his office, removing himself from the situation.

‘You okay, love?’ asks Julie, looking concerned.

‘Not really. Rough night.’ Pause. ‘Carly,’ I say in way of explanation.

She instantly gets it and offers a sympathetic look. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Boardroom?’ Real Brett swiftly asks/suggests/guides as he walks past with a coffee in his hand.

‘Erm,’ I sound, looking at my desk.

‘I’ve got the Christmas stuff sorted, don’t you worry,’ says Julie, almost reading my mind. ‘Jonathan’s mentioned about booking a few rooms for people as treats – you and me included – so I’ll get on to that and see if anyone else wants in.’

‘Nice,’ I mutter in a daze, as I retrieve the notebook from my bag and follow Real Brett.

‘Thought you might want to hibernate in here today,’ he says, pulling out a chair for me to sit in and handing me the cup of coffee.

‘Thanks.’

‘And before it plagues you, I guess we should address the elephant in the room.’

‘What’s that?’ I ask, getting ready for him to talk about Carly and what happened last night.

‘Yes, I did stay after you left and I did eat a katsu. I even had some salted edamame … and duck gyoza. Just don’t judge.’

I smile at him before making my face serious again. ‘I see. Well, that’s disappointing, Brett.’

‘Thought it was best to be honest.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Actually, I also had the chilli prawns,’ he adds guiltily, biting on his bottom lip.

‘Wow, quite a feast,’ I smile, wondering how he manages to keep in such great shape with his questionable diet. I eat a single slice of cake and instantly put on a stone, whereas he seems to constantly stuff his face with treats.

‘And I know what else you’re wondering. You’re wondering whether I managed to get a selfie with Walter White. Well, no. With you there it would’ve been fun, but on my own it was geekish.’

‘Oh damn, you missed out on your chance.’

‘I thought about it, but some dude got in there before me and was a total blow-out, doing impressions to the poor guy’s face – at least we did ours behind his back,’ he says incredulously. ‘Thought it was best to leave it because I would’ve undoubtedly been a total fangirl slash moron.’

I know what he’s doing. He’s being extra light and breezy to distract me from my thoughts. I admire him for doing it, considering he’s only known me for a few weeks.

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘What for? Not getting the picture? That would’ve seriously earned me some credit with the boys at rugby.’

‘No … for being sweet.’

‘You mean my natural self?’

‘Yes … if that’s what it is.’

‘There’s only one Brett Last. Well, actually – it’s a common name. There’s probably loads of us,’ he shrugs, looking bashful as he goes to the shelf and pulls down the pile of travel guidebooks we’d been searching through the day before. ‘Time to disappear to somewhere new …’

I grab the
Rough Guide to Melbourne
and turn to the page I’d left it on the previous night. ‘On another note, I became an aunty today,’ I tell him, part of me wanting the world to know that a very special little lady has arrived and feeling extremely proud of my brother and sister-in-law. ‘My brother’s wife had a little girl called Mavis Rose.’

‘Well how’s that for juxtaposition?’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘When are you going to go meet her?’

‘Today at some point,’ I smile, feeling the stirring of mixed emotions in my gut that have been gurgling away all morning.

‘Why don’t you go now?’ he asks with a shrug.

‘I couldn’t do that.’

‘We’ve got ten people we want to meet to see if they’re right for the project. If I book some appointments in this afternoon we can say we’re both there. I don’t mind doing them on my own – providing you trust my judgement.’

‘Erm …’

‘I’ll film them so that you can watch it all back,’ he offers with a smile, letting me know that he’s not too offended that I’m sceptical over his ability to interview old people without me.

I sigh, not knowing what to do.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ I shrug, not wanting to tell someone I barely know how I’m feeling.

‘Right …’ he nods, licking his lips and pursing them together. ‘My sister has a little baby. A boy, called Matthew. I was going through some really shitty things when he was born, but I met him and it blew everything else out of the water … it won’t make things better for Carly, but you’ll be amazed at the magnitude of the love you feel pouring out of you when you meet Mavis Rose.’

‘I just keep thinking about Carly and what she’ll be feeling today. I’d feel guilty having that rush of love when I know what a state she’s in,’ I answer truthfully.

‘I get that,’ he nods, offering a sympathetic smile. ‘It’s a horrible situation all round. However, Carly and Josh? They’ll probably have other children – they’ve got a whole future together to decide exactly what it is that they want. But your niece? Well, she’s here now, and she’s waiting to meet her aunty.’

‘Oh fuck,’ I mutter as my eyes start leaking for the hundredth time today.

Her tiny button nose is what makes me adore her instantly.

Her ickle mouth, lips and chin make me want to kiss her continuously.

Her fragility and the fact that she weighs next to nothing make me want to protect her for evermore against the brutality of the world she’s yet to discover.

Her dainty fingers, when all of hers wrap around one of mine and tightly squeeze, make me love her with everything that I am.

And when she opens her eyes …

I am floored.

My love is limitless.

My love knows no bounds.

‘She’s perfect,’ I say repeatedly, meaning it every time the words come out of my mouth.

‘Isn’t she just,’ coos my mum, coming over and sneaking another peak at her granddaughter.

‘She really does look like Dad, though,’ I laugh, screwing my face up at Andrea, who’s in her nightie, resting in the hospital bed. She looks fantastic, as though she hadn’t been in labour throughout the night. Her honey-streaked brown hair is tied back in a scrunchie and her make-up-free skin looks flawless. She smiles over at us looking serene and in love.

Love.

The room is filled with it.

‘Can you believe you made this?’ I ask her.

‘It all feels so surreal,’ she says, shaking her head.

With Dad and Max out of the room fetching coffees, we persuade Andrea to close her eyes and rest while we talk quietly next to her, cuddling Mavis Rose.

‘Nice of Jonathan to give you the time off,’ Mum says, as she strokes her granddaughter’s face and chuckles when she yawns. I’ve never seen her like this – all gooey and warm. ‘He’s been working you hard.’

‘Yeah,’ I agree, deciding not to tell her that I’m effectively skiving off work.

‘Is it all coming together, though?’

‘Seems to be,’ I nod.

‘How’s Carly?’

‘Not good,’ I say, looking down at Mavis and holding on to the miracle of life a little tighter. ‘She lost the baby last night.’

Mum doesn’t say anything, but she puts her arm around my shoulder as we continue to look down at the bundle in my arms.

I stay at Mum and Dad’s over the weekend. We go to visit Max, Andrea and Mavis Rose, watch a lot of zombie TV (not
The X Factor
– they still can’t stand it) and then Mum and I go on long walks together (Dad stays at home because his knee’s continuing to play up), and just take in the Kent countryside. Surprisingly I don’t feel like killing Mum at the end of it. She doesn’t push, prod, moan or rile in the way I usually expect from her. Instead she’s strong, silent and present – which is just what I need. Someone to
just be there for me without loading all their own thoughts and feelings on to me.

I check in with Carly and Josh every so often to see how they are. They’re coping, they say – which I believe as I even hear laughter during one call, which reassures me that their hearts are on their way to healing somewhat.

The following week whizzes by in a blur as the final full week before Christmas means we have to cram in as much planning as possible before everywhere closes for the holidays. We have met several old people – Real Brett interviewed a cracking old Welsh lady called Gwyn who had him in stitches during their whole encounter (it was fun to watch back), so we went to visit her together and confirmed her for the trip, as well as shortlisting four others who are all on board for leaving late February for their trip of a lifetime when finalized. We’ve phoned around to various Australian locations from Sydney to Whitsunday, Melbourne to The Great Barrier Reef and Perth to Adelaide – plus we’ve added New Zealand as a possibility, depending on what we find when we head out there for the recce. It’s been non stop and I breathe a sigh of relief when the 22nd of December rolls around and it’s the final day at work
and
the day of the Christmas party – which doesn’t really count as a working day as I’m sure pretty sure there’s going to be drinking over lunchtime as well as an afternoon of fooling around thanks to the aforementioned lunchtime drinks.

Unsurprisingly there’s quite a buzz surrounding tonight’s bash as a few people have realized they can get as wasted and debauched as they like, knowing they’ve not got to face anyone else in the office for another two weeks. Well, it is meant to be a chance for them to let their hair
down and I know a fair few of them are going to grab that opportunity by the horns and pour as many free drinks down their gullets as they can manage – which I’m sure shot-pusher Julie will encourage.

Jonathan calls us in at the start of the day to see how we’ve managed to get on with our plans. Even though we’ve cc’d him in on all the important emails, as his PA, I know most of those have been left unopened in his inbox or just skimmed through. Luckily we’ve not needed his input seeing as Damian has kept a close eye on the project, happy with how we’ve been progressing.

‘Everything organized?’ he asks, jamming a creamy chocolate éclair into his mouth, which makes my mouth water hungrily.

‘We think so,’ I nod.

‘And when do you leave?’

‘We leave for Oz on the ninth for three weeks,’ I say with a nod, swallowing hard at the thought of being away for so long and also spending that much time with Real Brett. He’s been a real sweetheart over the past week and a real friend – but being together in such close proximity for that long has certainly given me something to think about when I can’t sleep at night. ‘There’s lots to see and sort through.’

‘Yes,’ Jonathan agrees, not giving the slightest grumble that we’re going to be away from the office for that length of time. ‘It’s best all the technical stuff gets sorted before you’re out there with the OAPs and camera crews, et cetera. People get huffy when they have to wait, and the costs start rising quickly. Plus, the heat over there – that’s what you’ll be up against. It’ll be a busy three weeks.’

‘We’re still not sure about New Zealand yet,’ Real Brett informs him. ‘We’ve made contact with a few different companies and tour groups over there, but we’ll know more once we’ve seen a bit of Australia.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Jonathan nods, licking cream off his fingers before wiping his wet hands on his trousers to dry them.

Somehow I manage to resist screwing up my face in disgust at the sight.

‘You two both seem to know what you’re doing. A great project to end the year on. What a wonderful team you make,’ he says, standing up and extending the hand he’s just sucked cream off out for a handshake.

I go along with it, all the while trying not to vomit, thrilled when he finally lets us out of the room.

‘Kitchen?’ Real Brett mutters in my ear.

‘To fumigate my hand? Oh, yes please!’ I grimace, as we charge through the office and into the little kitchen area.

‘Me first,’ he says snatching up the soap and rubbing it between his hands, lathering it up so that his hands are white and foamy.

‘My turn, my turn,’ I quietly squeal with a giggle, shaking my offending hand out to the side.

‘Ahhhh …’ Real Brett groans, stamping his feet and continuing to friction burn the soap.

‘You’re hogging it,’ I moan like a petulant child. ‘It’s my turn!’ I say, playfully grabbing at his hands and trying to extract the white bar.

My attempt fails. Instead, it slides from Real Brett’s slippery grasp, ricochets off my foot and flies underneath the kitchen cabinet beside us.

‘Fuck!’

‘Ha!’ Real Brett smugly laughs, swirling his creamy hands in my face.

Without thinking, I grab his hands and run mine all over them, so that the soap covers my hands too. As my fingers glide between his and our palms meet, my mind flashes to my bedtime encounter with Dream Brett – in the hot tub that David Beckham and Justin Bieber sat in before Dream Brett and I had crazy wet sex in it.

I look up to see Real Brett’s green eyes sparkling in my direction and realize I have a sudden urge to kiss him.

My face gets all flustered as I gasp in shock and whip my hands away.

‘You okay?’ he asks.

‘Me? Yeah, yeah … hate germs,’ I mumble, running the tap and washing off the soapy bubbles from my arms, feeling like an absolute moron as I shake them off and go back out to my desk.