Someone Else's Dream (13 page)

For the first time in his life, he had gotten something right about Carla Reid. Mistakenly he thought he was the man to do it.

*              *              *

Dale Simpson was not the type of man that could let things go. He certainly wasn’t going to let Matt Connor get away with sleeping with his wife to be. As a criminal lawyer, he had met and represented some nasty people. Which, he thought gave him an advantage as to how people ticked. He would get his revenge and find a way of hurting Matt. Dale just had to find out what was most precious to him and then somehow set about to destroy it.

He had so many contacts in the criminal world and Matt Connor was going to regret taking him on. The things he had in mind were perhaps a bit drastic, but he thought drastic times needed drastic measures. He knew the history of Matt through Carla; how the depression set in followed by the nightmares, after the death of his daughter Aimee. He knew that a lot of the time Matt was medicated as he found life difficult to cope with. He did have some empathy for the man, having daughters himself he could not imagine what it would be like to lose someone that close. But, there was a line in the sand and Matt Connor had crossed it. That would be his downfall.

*              *              *

Hayleigh understood the coldness coming from her fiancé. She had just cheated on him with her ex-husband. As a strong willed independent woman, she would never allow any man to dictate terms. On this occasion, though, she accepted it. She would do exactly as Dale requested. One of the things he insisted on, even though she was still in the early stages of pregnancy, was that she immediately took maternity leave. She’d done what her fiancé asked and did not return to the office. She knew Dale would delegate the work and the practice would run efficiently with or without her. She also knew she was good at her job and would miss it.

Dale had also removed the sim card from her IPhone and replaced it with a new one, giving her a new number. The reason being so Matt could not contact her and she did not have Matt’s number. It was, in fact, a futile attempt. Hayleigh knew Matt’s number off by heart but, for her, it was quite convenient he no longer had hers. She was soon on Facebook when Dale had left for work giving her FB friends her new number and before very long her address book was full again.

Hayleigh wasn’t the type to sit at home twiddling her thumbs, or being the good, little, housewife who cooked and cleaned for her family. She had a career, she had a life, and she had aspirations. She had already been thinking about nannies after the baby was born so she could get back to work and continue her career. She did love Dale, of that she was sure of, but she knew deep down that part of it was the lifestyle and opportunities he could give her. As she sat at the familiar kitchen table, drinking strong coffee and looking out onto her vast gardens, there was only one thing going through her mind.

I’ll play the good housewife bit, it will give me plenty of time to think of revenge.

There was no longer the fear she felt when she saw her ex-husband in the garden with the flowers, the thought of wanting to call the police. Now, it was the fear she may lose the man she was going to marry. The tears were all cried out and the man she once loved, she feared no more. All she could think of was to get even and now Dale had given her the time to do just that.

She thought about the first time Matt had struck her. They were just about to visit Aimee at the hospital. It was during the early diagnosis of Aimee’s illness and there were some positive vibes coming from the consultant that her illness could be beaten. At the time, Hayleigh wanted to be positive and not think about the possibility she may not pull through. She wanted Matt to think the same and share her hope, but he had slipped into depression and had grown angry. He was showing a temper that she had never seen before and had taken to drinking quite heavily.

He was in a really foul mood that morning when they were preparing to visit their daughter. Hayleigh had commented he needed to pull himself together; she didn’t want Aimee seeing her father like that. The resulting smack in the face caused her to fall to the floor, her lip cut and bleeding.

The next time he’d hit her was about a week later, which was when she’d walked out. They’d watched her daughter deteriorate separately. As much as she loved him, Hayleigh found it impossible to forgive him. She understood he was ill with grief at the time, but she needed him then and he wasn’t there. She thought she had forgiven him, and for a brief moment when they’d made love again, she even thought she still loved him. Now she realised she hated him, not just for trying to stop her forthcoming marriage, but she realised now he had destroyed the last months of her daughter’s life, and hers along with it.

She showered and got dressed. Although it was still early afternoon, she fancied a stroll to the Bluebell pub. She hadn’t been there for a while, not since she had split with Matt. She’d heard the barmaid, the one who was screwing her ex-husband was back at work today. It would be nice to catch up.

*              *              *

Marcia healed quickly, her swollen lip had gone right down with the cut barely visible. The bruises were easily hidden by the make-up she applied. Matt had been a true gentleman and for the next two days popped in from time to time to make sure she ate properly. Nothing seemed too much trouble for him. He encouraged her to go back to work, telling her the best way to come to terms with what happened was to step right back into the life she’d previously led.

“Don’t let this ruin your life,” he had told her. She thought at the time it was a bit of a strange thing to say. She certainly wasn’t going to let it ruin her life though it did scare her someone would want to do that to her. Her only conclusion was what Matt had told her.

“It was probably a case of mistaken identity,” he’d told her, “Who could possibly want to hurt you, Marcia?” She wanted to believe that, but there was something niggling at her. Something was telling her it was far more than a case of mistaken identity. The police had appeared to have lost interest, so Marcia thought the best thing she could do was to get on with the rest of her life and hope somehow the memories would eventually fade; though she did think that may take longer than her injuries. One thing she had decided to do was there would be no more short-cuts home. She didn’t think she could ever walk down that alley again.

It was agreed she would run the bar in the afternoons until she felt confident enough to work nights. Even when she went back to night work, the landlady promised to ensure she was either driven or somebody would walk her home. That made her feel heaps better and it made her feel humble that her employers cared so much about her.

It was only four days after the attack that she returned to work at eleven am. Tears had come to her eyes on her return. There were five bunches of flowers and twenty-three get-well cards waiting for her from her regulars. It was the first time in a long time that she had felt truly valued and that people cared about her way more than she’d realised.

There was an old man sat in the corner of the bar drinking a half of bitter, his eyes focussed on the TV which was showing the news channel. There were two young lads playing pool and that was the total sum of customers she had to tend to. The old man had bought his drink over an hour ago and it still remained half full. The two lads had bought pints of lager. Marcia had collected the empty glasses and they had made no attempt to buy more. She wondered why the pub bothered to open in the afternoons if it remained this quiet. She looked at the clock on the wall and realised it was only coming up to twelve-thirty. It felt like she’d been there for hours already. She guessed the lunchtime drinkers would not be in just yet. She was looking through her cards once more when her fourth customer strolled through the doors.

She recognised Hayleigh straight away. She used to be a regular with her ex-husband before tragedy struck the family and they split. As soon as Marcia saw Hayleigh she became immediately riddled with guilt, not for the recent antics she had got up to with Matt, as they were both single and entitled. Her guilt went back three years when she’d first slept with the woman’s husband, now walking towards her.

Marcia stood at the bar looking at the raven-haired beauty stood before her, dressed in tight jeans and a blouse that showed off all her curves and assets. Such simple clothing, but such a strong statement. They exchanged smiles before they spoke.

“White wine and soda please,” asked Hayleigh.

Marcia, whose job it was not to judge, successfully hid the surprise from her expression. It wasn’t her business if a pregnant woman wanted to drink alcohol. Her job was just to serve it. She poured her drink, thanked her and took the money. Hayleigh sat on a stool at the bar. It felt like an invitation to start a conversation, so Marcia did just that.

“Haven’t seen you in here for ages,” Marcia commented.

Hayleigh smiled and took a swig of her wine. She set the wine glass down, her hand still holding the stem. With her finger and thumb, she caressed the stem. “Haven’t been in here since me and Matt split up. It’s been a few years; surprised not to see him in here!”

Her words took Marcia by surprise. It felt like she had come in looking for Matt. Her curiosity was well and truly aroused. “Don’t think he comes in much in the afternoons. If I see him shall I tell him you were looking for him?”

Hayleigh didn’t flinch, she still twirled the glass. Marcia instantly recognised this was a game Hayleigh was playing, but her next words took her by surprise. “I’m actually not looking for him, it’s you I have come to see,” Hayleigh could see the shock written on Marcia’s face. “Don’t worry, I come in peace,” she smiled, taking her hands off the glass and raising them momentarily.

“What can I do for you?” Marcia proffered, becoming more curious than she was letting on.

“It’s more of what can I do for you?” said Hayleigh.

Marcia raised her eyebrows.

“I hear you’ve been seeing Matt?” she asked,

“We’re not a couple or anything, but yeah we’ve been out a couple of times.” It dawned on Marcia then that in fact they had never been out. They had just had sex. Hayleigh knew what she meant and that Matt was just fucking her. She felt sorry for Marcia.

“Did he do that?” Hayleigh enquired, pointing to Marcia’s face.

Marcia immediately put her hand to her face as if to hide it. “Of course not,” she retorted angrily.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m bloody sure, what are you trying to get at Hayleigh? You’ve been divorced for years, what is your problem?”

Hayleigh sniggered at that, she wasn’t the one who had the problem. She hadn’t realised quite how naive this girl really was.

“Well he hit me a few times, that’s why I left him.”

The words pierced Marcia and she involuntarily shivered. “Matt has been wonderful since it happened, I don’t know how I would have coped without him.”

Hayleigh emptied her glass and placed it on the bar, putting her hand on it, indicating she didn’t want a refill. “That’s what he does,” Hayleigh retorted as she got off her stool and started to leave.

“What do you mean?” asked Marcia.

Hayleigh turned back around and took the few steps to the bar. “Just asked him who he was screwing only last week, and don’t worry, my husband knows.” Hayleigh paused, looking at the expression on Marcia’s face, “Matt made sure he found out.” Hayleigh turned around and left, leaving Marcia speechless. When Hayleigh got outside she realised she was actually sweating. She guessed Marcia was bound to tell him of their conversation and she was interested to see how Matt would react. Only this time, she hoped, she would be ready for him.

The fact that Matt had slept with his wife when it appeared that he was also sleeping with her didn’t affect Marcia as much as Hayleigh had thought it would. They weren’t together and they weren’t a couple. In some ways, Marcia found it helpful in confirming that. But what was digging at her were the comments Hayleigh had made regarding hitting her and, more importantly, suggesting Matt may have attacked her.

Later that afternoon she’d decided she wouldn’t tell Matt about the conversation. They were two single people and she sure didn’t want to get involved in some domestic war. He had been a good friend and a good lover. If some ex-wife wanted to be jealous of that, then that was her problem. The pub soon filled and it momentarily went to the back of her mind, but she knew for certain it would surface again.

*              *              *

Matt Connor woke up in a cold sweat and realised he was shaking as he awakened from the dream. He went to the bathroom and swilled his face with cold water. He guessed the shakes were the withdrawal symptoms from the tablets he had chosen to stop taking. As he looked in the mirror at his haggard and drained face, he thought about taking one; thankful he hadn’t put them in the bin, as he was originally going to. He took the bottle of anti-depressants in his hand and stared at them for a little while.
They just cloud my judgement and fuck up my brain.
Setting the bottle back down, without opening it, he thought;
it will be over soon, I need to be the real me.