The Dream
by
Maria Savva
Published by: Rose & Freedom Books
P.O. Box 55285
London N22 9EU
England, U.K.
Copyright © Maria Savva 2011
Cover design by Maria Savva
The moral rights of Maria Savva as author have been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved: No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on a subsequent purchaser
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-9564101-5-3
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to anyone. Please respect the copyright of this author. If you would like to in any way share this file you will need to purchase an additional copy. If you did not purchase this file please return it to www.journal-store.com; Thanks for your cooperation.
Converted to e-format by JournalStone
Other books by Maria Savva:
Coincidences 2001
A Time to Tell 2006
Pieces of a Rainbow 2009
Love and Loyalty (and Other Tales) 2010
Second Chances 2010
Cutting The Fat 2011 (co-author Jason McIntyre)
Fusion 2011
Official website: www.mariasavva.com
Acknowledgements:
Thank you to Darcia Helle, for being the first person to read the final draft, and for spotting lots of typos! Thanks for being such a great supporter of my writing, and a wonderful friend.
Thanks to Jason McIntyre for giving me your honest opinion about the book on reading the final draft. It means a lot that I have such supportive friends who would risk being hunted down like Nestor Maronski rather than see me publish a less than perfect book!
Thanks so much to Stacy Juba for your editing suggestions. Your tips were very useful and helped me to fine tune the final version. Thanks for your enthusiasm about the book!
Thank you to Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick for being so thorough and spotting all the extra spaces and missing punctuation! You have eagle eyes. And, yes, in the UK we say ‘for ever’ rather than ‘forever’ :) Oh, and a CV is a curriculum vitae. You call them resumes in the US. Most of all, thanks for finding Lynne’s car... You were right it was at Sandy’s flat!
Thanks to my wonderful friends, Calum McDonald and Julie Elizabeth Aldridge, for the final proof-reading and your helpful suggestions.
Thanks to all at BestsellerBound.com for the continual support and motivation.
Thanks to all the book reviewers/readers who have rated my books highly on Amazon, Goodreads, and other such sites. I am indebted to you.
Last but not least, thank you to anyone who has read and enjoyed any of my books. I’d like to dedicate this book to you.
Lynne ran into the garden, carrying in her right hand her favourite toy—a small, brightly coloured car; red, orange and blue. It had large eyes and made a sound like a car racing along a track whenever she pulled it along the ground using the string attached to it. She found her favourite part of the garden, feeling happy that her sister was at a friend’s birthday party so she could be alone and play with her toys. Her sister’s favourite doll, Nancy, was in her left hand.
Lynne sat on the bench at the far end of the garden under the shade of the apple tree. She smiled and began to sing: ‘Ring, a ring o’roses, A pocket full of posies...’ Just then, she heard a sound in the next garden and hoped that her neighbour, Zac, wouldn’t insist on climbing through the hole in the fence to play. At 4 years old, he was almost a year older than her, but he acted like a baby as far as she was concerned.
‘Lynne, where are you?’ shouted her mum from the patio doors at the back of the house.
‘Here, Mummy!’ she replied.
‘Stay where I can see you,’ said her mother, then disappearing back into the house.
It was a lovely warm day. Lynne began to run around in circles, feeling the breeze in her hair. Just then, she saw a white cat jump off the fence and realised that the sound she had heard coming from the next-door garden must have been the cat. She had never seen it before. It was completely white, with bright blue eyes. It had a collar with something hanging from it shaped like a fish.
‘Hello,’ said Lynne, excited. She ran towards her new playmate. It sat calmly watching her, seemingly unconcerned at the toddler who was now racing towards it.
Lynne stroked the cat. ‘Do you want to play with my car?’ she asked. ‘What’s your name?’
The animal began to purr, then laid down on the grass, allowing Lynne to continue stroking it.
Suddenly and without warning, it jumped up as if afraid. Its eyes turned very dark, almost black, and it backed away.
‘Wait, little kitty, don’t be scared, silly,’ said Lynne. Then, she turned to her right, and saw her mother standing next to her.
‘You scared the cat, Mummy!’ Looking back at her new friend, she said, ‘It’s only Mummy, she won’t hurt you.’
‘Who are you talking to, Lynne?’ asked her mother, seeing an empty grass lawn where Lynne was pointing.
‘The cat, Mummy, look. Isn’t he pretty? Can I keep it?’
‘You and your imagination,’ said her mother, sighing, unable to see the creature so clear and real in Lynne’s eyes.
‘Can I, Mummy? Please? He’s so sweet.’
‘It’s time for dinner, Lynne, come on.’ Her mother picked her up.
‘Can I bring the cat inside?’ She looked over her mother’s shoulder as she was whisked into the house, and watched the cat in the distance, now further and further away from her. It continued to look at her with those hollow black eyes. Lynne began to feel a little frightened and held on tightly to her mother.
The cat never returned to the garden and Lynne was left wondering if she had imagined it after all. Like all events in a three year-old’s life, it was soon forgotten. Two weeks later, her parents bought her a cat of her own; a black and white one. The mysterious white cat from the garden became a distant memory, never to be recalled.
I don’t love him anymore, thought Lynne to herself, as she looked at Adam lying on the bed beside her. We’re supposed to be getting married in a couple of weeks time... eighteen days time.
She jumped out of bed, ran into the en suite and closed the door. Reaching for the tap, she splashed her face with cold water. Maybe I’m still asleep. It was wishful thinking. Opening the bathroom door, water dripping from her chin, she took a deep breath and wiped her face with her pyjama sleeve. She walked into the bedroom and looked at the man lying on the bed. He was sleeping, his mouth slightly open. As she listened to the familiar sound of his breathing and the faint snore, a fear took hold of her; a realisation that she no longer felt anything for him. The sensation had crept up on her without warning. She tried to reach back into her past—even to last night—to conjure up some loving feelings. I was still in love with him last night... at least I think I was. They’d been laughing, as they watched a documentary on TV about a fourteen year-old girl who wanted a boob job, even though, at first, Adam had said he didn’t want to watch it and they’d had a bit of a disagreement about that.
Lynne had been with Adam for over three years, and it was something she just took for granted that she still loved him, never questioning it. Okay, she knew it was no longer like in the first few months, when her heart would beat faster every time they met, but it was an unwritten rule, something that was just there. They were still together, so it had never entered her mind that she had stopped loving him. Not until today. Now, she knew for certain, that she had no feelings for him. How can this have happened?
Just last night, they had been talking about the plans for their upcoming wedding, and the honeymoon location, over a glass of red wine. Granted, she’d done most of the talking, but he was agreeing with her, and he seemed to be looking forward to it. Men weren’t supposed to be particularly enthusiastic about planning weddings, so she didn’t expect anything more from him. She’d felt happy.
Crawling back into bed next to him, she could see from the alarm clock that it was 7:21 am. The alarm was set for 7:30—the time Adam got up for work.
She thought back to his proposal, as she fingered the diamond engagement ring on her left hand. Her eyes drifted over to the wardrobe, within which her wedding dress was hanging. She’d noticed the dress a couple of months before Adam proposed to her, stopping in front of the shop window on her way to work to admire it. It was beautiful. As she’d stood in front of the shop window, she’d wished that Adam would pop the question so she could buy it. Her wish had been granted a few weeks later when Adam got down on one knee, at the top of the London Eye, in front of a group of smiling tourists, and asked her to marry him. He had tears in his eyes when she said ‘Yes’. She’d felt so blessed, and sure that they were fated to be together. She tried to reach back in time and pull out those feelings, but they were gone.
As she turned to look at Adam, a strange emotion ambushed her; a feeling of deep regret. It was like the way she’d felt when she’d drunk too much at that party back in her university days, and had gone to bed with Stuart Redman, the most unattractive bloke on the campus; the one everyone said was most likely to join the Foreign Legion. It had been a feeling of instant regret, a feeling of uncleanness, when she’d woken up to find him dribbling all over his pillow next to her. She’d jumped into the shower straight away, and scrubbed herself until she had washed that night away.
The feeling was almost exactly the same now as she lay next to Adam; the gut wrenching sensation of having made the most horrendous mistake. But she couldn’t jump into the shower now and wash away over three years of time. Somehow, though, that’s what she wanted to do, as ridiculous as it seemed. What’s wrong with me? she wondered.
Adam began to stir in the bed. Soon he would be awake. It was 7:29 am. She turned away from him and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. How could I have just fallen out of love with him overnight? Then she remembered the dream she had the night before last. In the dream she had been sitting alone in a bar and a man approached her. He looked familiar, but she had never seen him before. A white light shone around him, like an aura. He had said, ‘You must not marry Adam, it will be a mistake’. Then he disappeared, and she woke up. She was a bit shaken after the dream, especially as the man had seemed so real, and his voice remained in her head when she opened her eyes. But after a few minutes, when she had fully woken up, the dream had slipped away to the back of her mind, no longer significant. Then, Steve, her ex, had phoned her, out of the blue. She hadn’t spoken to him for over four years. Could the dream, and the subsequent phone-call from Steve have caused her emotions towards Adam to freeze up now? Was that why she could no longer feel anything for him? She began to worry that perhaps she had never really fallen out of love with Steve, and his call may have awoken long dormant emotions, making her feel that her marriage to Adam would be a mistake. That would make more sense if Steve had called first and then she’d had the dream, but it had happened the other way round.
She could hear Adam in the shower. Usually, she got out of bed when the alarm went off, to prepare his breakfast; wanting to make the most of the time they had together, because Adam was often working abroad. Today, however, when Adam had said, ‘Good morning,’ she had rolled over and said, ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll lie in a bit today.’ That had been the end of the conversation.
She lay in bed now listening to Adam singing in the shower. His voice sounded out of tune, but it didn’t usually bother her. I love Adam, I love Adam, I love Adam, she tried to convince herself. Perhaps if she kept repeating that in her head, she would eventually believe it. She pretended to be asleep again as she heard him re-enter the bedroom to change into his work clothes.
Lynne had fallen in love with Adam at first sight. She had just come out of an awful relationship with that rat, Steve, and then she’d met Adam; sweet, kind Adam. He was handsome and gentle, and had been so good to her. Soon, she became besotted—almost obsessed. When he finally asked her out, after what seemed like an age, she’d been the happiest girl in the world.
People were jealous of Adam and Lynne’s relationship. From the outside, they were the perfect couple. And even though their relationship was not as great as it had once been, Lynne still never doubted they would be celebrating their golden anniversary together one day. So, she could not understand how she could just wake up one morning and feel unable to even look at him.
Had she fallen for Adam on the rebound from Steve, transferring the feelings of love she’d had for Steve to Adam? Perhaps now that she had spoken to Steve again after so long, and realised she didn’t love him anymore, she also no longer loved Adam; after all, he’d only ever been a substitute. Could it be that simple? But she felt sure that she loved Adam because he was Adam; not just because Steve had left her and she needed a replacement. Over the years, she had formed a strong bond with Adam; one she thought could never be broken.
The strange thing was, something at the back of her mind told her that she had probably known all along that she didn’t love Adam, but had just not faced up to it until this morning. I mean how could I have ever been in love with him? Her mind now seemed clearer than ever before; more focused. It was as if a messenger had been travelling for over three years, desperately trying to get to her over a treacherous journey, wishing it had reached her sooner; it had still been catching its breath, after telling her, in no uncertain terms: ‘You don’t love Adam anymore.’
Thinking back, she realised that after the first few months of dating him, their relationship had become more like a companionship than anything else. With Adam away on business so often, she ended up spending the most important days of the year on her own: birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s day—an endless list of lonely occasions. But somehow this hadn’t mattered to Lynne; she’d been busy, too, working as a secretary in an accountancy firm. She hadn’t had time to ponder the strengths and weaknesses of her relationship. It was only really in the last few months, since she had been made redundant, that she had faced up more to the lonely days. This created some tension between her and Adam whenever he returned home. But she kept herself busy with the wedding arrangements, thinking that the wedding would wash over any of the inadequacies in their relationship. Since the engagement, she’d had a more positive outlook, brushing aside any arguments, believing that getting married would solve their problems. Now, she wondered whether they were too far down the line of incompatibility for that to work.
She took a deep breath as she heard Adam close the front door on his way to work. What should I do? It would be better to tell him now, instead of standing him up at the altar. But what about her family and friends? What could she tell them?
When Adam had left for work, Lynne took her wedding dress out of the wardrobe and put it on, trying to remember how she’d felt when she first saw the dress in the shop window.
She picked up the phone and dialled her best friend’s number.
‘Hi,’ said Sandra.
‘Sand, are you busy?’
‘Well, not really. It’s been pretty quiet here for the past few months, but I still have to pretend I’m doing something, or I’ll get sacked. It’s so stressful, this recession.’
‘At least you’ve got a job.’
‘Oh, sorry, Lynne. But look, things are bound to pick up soon, and you’ll get back into work. Anyway, I’m not feeling sorry for you. You’re the lucky one; you’re getting married!’
‘Hmm.’
‘You could sound a bit more enthusiastic!’
‘I need to talk to you about the wedding,’ said Lynne, smoothing the silk skirt of her wedding dress as she spoke.
‘Yeah, okay. Do you want me to come over tonight?’
‘Er... no, can we meet for lunch?’
‘Sure.’
Lynne went into the kitchen to prepare her breakfast, in a daze. Will Sand understand? She’ll think I’m mad. Then, she realised she was still wearing her wedding dress. There was a brief panic Oh no! But it was short-lived. Soon, a cloud of gloom enveloped her. Who cares if I ruin the dress? I’m not marrying him, anyway.
Common sense prevailed, however, and she went back to the bedroom to change her clothes. The dress had cost her five hundred pounds; money she could ill afford to lose. She had been made redundant over three months ago, and the job market was bleak.
Lynne sat eating her corn flakes, staring out at the blue sky. They lived in a tower block, and the view from the kitchen table was just sky, as far as the eye could see. There were hardly any clouds today. She would have preferred thunderstorms to fit in more with her mood. The sun was shining. In theory, that should have made her feel happier, but she was consumed with confusion. Her feelings for Adam had changed so quickly, so suddenly, so completely; like the wind changing direction.
It can’t be... Her heart skipped a beat as she thought back again to the phone call she’d received yesterday. From Steve.
‘I hear you’re getting married,’ said Steve.
Why is he phoning? Is he jealous? Lynne couldn’t tell. She wished she could see his face.
‘Yes, I’m getting married,’ she replied, abruptly. ‘Who told you?’
‘Kevin,’ said Steve.
Kevin was Sandra’s brother. Every now and then, some news about Steve would filter through from Kevin to Sandra and then to Lynne. Usually, Lynne tried to ignore it. She didn’t really want to hear about what he was doing. She didn’t care. He had hurt her and it had taken time to get over him. She didn’t want to listen to tales about him and other girls. Sandra knew this, so she usually only relayed stories that would please Lynne; like the time Steve sung karaoke at the local pub and someone had thrown a tomato at him; or, when a girl had thrown a glass of wine over him when he tried to pinch her bum. The last time Lynne had heard any news about him was over a year ago, when Sandra said Kevin had gone out with him on a stag night. Well, Sandra hadn’t really told Lynne about this; she’d overheard a telephone conversation between Sandra and her brother, when Sandra had said: ‘Oh you’re going to the stag night then? Make sure you and Steve don’t do anything stupid.’
‘Why are you phoning me, Steve?’ Lynne’s brow furrowed.
‘I wanted to wish you luck for your wedding.’
‘Huh! Are you being sarcastic? I don’t even know why I’m talking to you,’ she snapped.
‘Well put down the phone then,’ he said.
‘I will.’
‘No, wait, Lynne. Can’t we just leave the past in the past? We were close once, remember? I just thought that now you’ve moved on, it would be a good opportunity for us to call a truce.’
‘Why would I want to be friends with you after what you did? How could I ever trust you again?’
‘I’m sorry you’re still so bitter about it, Lynne.’
‘Oh... you are so self-righteous!’
‘I know what I did was wrong, but it was years ago—’
‘Is there a point to this conversation?’
‘Why are you still so angry? I thought I’d be able to have a mature conversation with you after so many years have passed. We had good times as well as bad.’
‘What you did was unforgivable and I have a right to be angry with you, so get off your high horse!’
‘Hmm... Maybe I shouldn’t have called you. I am disappointed that you’ve not been able to forgive me. It might be too late for us to be friends, but I just wanted to let you know I wish you well.’
Could it really be possible that Steve had changed? Confusion swept through Lynne’s mind. He spoke so calmly, and what he’d said really did make sense. In fact, she had thought she’d forgiven him and moved on, until he phoned and all the old emotions were stirred up when she heard his voice. That voice; it always did make her knees turn to jelly.
Hearing his voice now, she couldn’t help feeling flattered and almost tempted; it sounded as though he wanted to rekindle their love. But she was supposed to be getting married to Adam in less than three weeks time; she could not afford to let herself feel this way. Taking a deep breath, she said: ‘Steve, I don’t think we should be talking.’
‘Well, put down the phone then,’ he said, for the second time.
‘I will.’ And this time, she did.
Surely, the phone-call from Steve couldn’t be the reason she now found herself having second thoughts about Adam? No, it can’t be. Steve had broken her heart over four years ago, when she caught him in their bed with another woman. Being so in love with him, she had almost forgiven his infidelity, but had been talked out of it by family and friends. He had been her first love. She had always thought she would marry him. It had taken a lot for her to walk away from everything they had together, but she had convinced herself that she made the right decision.
She’d received the call just after breakfast on Monday morning. She’d been getting ready to leave the house and go to the florists to make the final arrangements for the wedding flowers, when the phone had rung. She’d felt annoyed with herself after the call, and had phoned Sandra for moral support.
‘Guess who just phoned me?’
‘Who?’
‘Steve.’
‘Who?’
‘My ex.’
‘What? “Stupid Steve” phoned you? Why?’
‘Can you believe, he wanted to wish me luck for the wedding!’
‘How did he find out?’
‘Your brother.’
‘Oh, sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault. I haven’t spoken to him since... you know. I wish I’d changed my mobile number!’
‘He’s a bastard, forget him. He’s probably jealous.’
‘Yeah.’
‘He had his chance and he blew it. You’re better off without him. Forget him.’
‘Forget who?’
‘Ha, ha.’
After the talk with Sandra on Monday, she relaxed a bit, but she couldn’t help feeling curious about why Steve had phoned. For some reason, it made her feel good thinking he might be jealous. This worried her. Why should she care if he was jealous or not? Was she still carrying a torch for him? She went about her chores; organising the hen party, booking the hairdresser, beautician, and caterers, for the wedding... an endless list of “things to do”. Every now and then, the memory of her conversation with Steve would pop up in her consciousness, forcing her to think about him. It was almost as if part of the flame had not been fully extinguished, and now a small spark threatened to grow. Had it already done damage by burning out some of her feelings for her fiancé? She had to face the fact that the phone-call and the sudden numbing of her emotions towards Adam might be linked.
***
Lynne met Sandra for lunch. They chatted. Lynne mentioned the dream, the phone call, and the feeling she’d had in the morning about not being in love with Adam anymore.
‘Lynne, you and Adam have been together for over three years. You’ve lived together for ages, and I can remember a time you used to drive me crazy talking about how much you love him. Then, remember how happy you were when he proposed? You were over the moon; and that was only a few months ago. I really think you need to put things in perspective. Has anything happened to make you hate him? Something you haven’t told me about?’
Lynne shook her head. She really could not recall any real problems between her and Adam. They’d argued more frequently in the past year, but she had always put this down to stress; what with Adam being away so often. She’d never taken the arguments seriously. The only major disagreement they’d had was a couple of months ago, about where they should hold the wedding reception. She wanted a hotel with a sit-down meal, but he wanted a buffet so they could invite more people. One thing led to another and they started arguing about the cost of things. Adam made a reference to the fact that she was out of work and wouldn’t have to be paying for anything. This hurt her because she had offered to use her redundancy payment towards the wedding if they needed extra money. They both had savings which were going to be used to pay for the wedding, and Lynne felt that Adam was being insensitive about her current predicament. He’d also slammed her for buying such an expensive wedding dress when she ‘didn’t know if she’d ever work again’. They’d slept in separate beds that night, and she remembered wishing she’d never met him. But when the initial anger had subsided, Adam had been very apologetic and said he’d been stressed out because there were rumours that there might be some redundancies at his office. She’d forgiven him, and completely forgotten about the disagreement, until now, when she was racking her brain to find some loose link in their relationship. ‘Adam’s a bit of a grump sometimes. Also a typical man, as he doesn’t communicate very well; but that’s just Adam, and I know him, so I put up with all that. He’s always been really good to me,’ she said.
‘So, you’re going to throw away a good man because of a dream you had, and a phone call from an ex, who—in case you’ve forgotten—was a complete prick, and totally broke your heart. I was the one who stayed up with you until the middle of the night, listening to you crying. Remember?’
‘I know, I know.’
‘Adam is worth ten of Steve. Even if you could get back together with Steve, you’re not seriously telling me you would, are you?’
‘No!’
‘So, what’s this all about then?’
‘I just felt really sure this morning that I don’t love Adam anymore. I can’t explain it, but I was so sure. I’m not so sure now, though. It seems to have changed again. It’s like a light flickering on and off. But, it’s scary. I don’t know if marrying him is the right thing to do. What if it’s true that I don’t love him anymore? When I think back, I can’t really remember having any real conversations with Adam. He’s always so busy. It’s only recently that we have been sitting down to dinner together to discuss the wedding arrangements. Mostly, he’s away or working, and I’m eating dinner for one in front of the TV.’
Sandra nodded and smiled a sad smile. ‘I have to say, this was the last thing I expected you to say to me today. I always thought you and Adam were so close, and so right for each other. If you want my advice, I think you should give it another chance. I think maybe you were just really surprised to hear from Steve again, and all your emotions got mixed up. You used to love him, and maybe you never really closed the door on that. But as your friend, I have to tell you that I’ve always thought Adam is the best thing that’s happened to you, and I’ve always been envious of your relationship.’
‘I know you’re right. I just don’t seem to be thinking straight at the moment. It must be all the stress of arranging the wedding, and losing my job. Oh, I don’t know. There’s something else—’ She stopped, feeling unable to continue; not sure if she could tell Sandra. They shared all their secrets, but this just seemed... almost crazy.
‘I’m waiting,’ said Sandra, smiling. Her forehead creased, however, showing that she was not sure she really wanted to hear any more.
‘Okay. Well, since this morning, I’ve been trying to think of a reason why I would suddenly stop being in love with Adam. The only thing I can think of is that there’s someone else I’m in love with, and my dream might be trying to tell me that. I mean, dreams come from our subconscious, so maybe I’ve met someone else who I’ve fallen for subconsciously.’
‘We’re not still taking about Steve, are we? Because—’
‘No, definitely not!’
‘Thank God for that!’
Lynne played with the stem of her wine glass.
‘You’re not hiding anything from me, are you?’ asked Sandra. ‘Have you met someone else?’
‘No. I’ve been out of work for months, and spend most of my time indoors. I hardly go anywhere. Besides, I would have told you if I’d met someone; I always tell you everything.’
‘I know, it’s just that this has reminded me that you spend a lot of time on those social networking Internet sites, don’t you? I remember you making a joke about a man you met on one of them sites, and saying that you could hook up with him if you ever split up with Adam.’
‘That was a joke, Sand. I hardly use those sites anymore. It was just a novelty when I lost my job and had time on my hands. Recently, I’ve been so busy preparing for the wedding. The only other men I’m likely to meet are in my dreams!’
Lynne sipped her wine, and then realised what she’d just said: “In my dreams”. A chill rushed through her as she recalled the man who had appeared to her and told her not to marry Adam.
Sandra smiled at Lynne. ‘Just spend time with Adam this evening. Really concentrate on the positive stuff. Try to forget about the way you felt this morning. Lots of brides get scared before getting married. Lots of them think about how they could be marrying someone else—someone like Brad Pitt, instead of Joe Bloggs—it’s normal to have doubts. I just don’t want to see you throw away something good. Promise me you’ll give him a chance before you let him get away.’
Lynne nodded.
By the end of lunch, Lynne started to feel more relaxed. She realised it was most likely that the negative feelings she’d been having this morning were probably just because of the shock of speaking to Steve after all this time. It had been good to talk to Sandra about it; she had known Steve, and had been such a rock after the break-up. She knew everything that Sandra had said was true: Adam was worth ten Steves.
That evening, Lynne cooked a lavish meal for Adam, and they had a romantic evening together in the candle-lit living room. She tried to focus on the positive, like Sandra had advised. Almost like a first date, she was getting to know him all over again. They talked about the wedding, and how much they were looking forward to the honeymoon and finally being able to spend time together. As usual, he wasn’t very communicative; but at least he’d agreed to leave work early and join her for dinner. Lynne’s insecurities began to fade, and she realised that she would be a fool to let such a good man go. So what if the fireworks weren’t there anymore? That didn’t matter. He was familiar, and he was safe. She found that she really liked Adam. He had so many good qualities, it would be easy to fall back in love with him; it would just take a little time.
As she began to fall asleep in his arms, she relaxed, and was at peace with the world again; thankful that she had not reacted impulsively on the irrational thoughts she’d been having that morning.
Lynne woke up and took a deep breath. ‘It was only a dream,’ she said to herself, in a whisper, feeling a sense of relief flood over her. Then, as she looked at Adam, she suddenly felt a strong sense of foreboding. The wedding loomed only a couple of weeks away. The image from her dream returned to her in a flash and then disappeared. She sat up quickly, and got out of bed.
Once in the kitchen, Lynne sat on the bar stool nearest the door, staring into the distance, not even bothering to turn on the light. She sat in the half-darkness—the only light coming from the moon—and watched the numbers on the oven clock changing. It was the middle of the night, but she did not want to go back to sleep. The dream she had just had was so clear in her mind; frightening her. The man in the dream had appeared to her again, exactly as he had done the night before Steve phoned her. ‘Don’t marry Adam’, rang in her head.
She heard a movement in the corridor. ‘Lynne?’ Adam’s voice, sounded groggy; sleepy. ‘Lynne? Where are you?’
Jumping off the bar stool, she switched on the kitchen light and looked up to see him.
‘Wh... What were you doing here in the dark?’ he asked.
‘I came to get a glass of water. I didn’t want to wake you, so I left the lights off. I did wake you though, didn’t I? Sorry.’
Adam frowned. Reaching out towards her, he touched her face. ‘Let’s go back to bed.’ He took her hand.
She lay awake for the rest of the night, refusing to close her eyes, in case the dream returned.
‘It’s just last minute nerves, Lynne,’ said Sandra. ‘Forget about it.’
‘But...’
‘No buts,’ said Sandra, shaking her long mane of scruffy red hair as she spoke. ‘You are not going to let me down. I’ve waited thirty years to be a bridesmaid. I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. I’ve always wanted to be. Funny, they say: “Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride”, but I’ve never heard: “Never a bridesmaid, never a bride”; that would be more accurate in my experience.’
‘What?’ Lynne was still thinking about her dream, and hadn’t really been concentrating.
‘I’m jealous. You’re getting married. I want to get married, but it looks as though it’ll never happen. Then here you are, complaining and moaning every day about having cold feet. I’d gladly have the cold feet if I could walk down the aisle in a beautiful gown.’
‘Oh, you’ll get married one day.’
‘Yeah.’ Sandra shook her head doubtfully.
‘You’re still young, Sand.’
‘Just about.’ Sandra tutted.
‘Anyway, we’re talking about me, not you. I’m the one who needs advice.’
‘I gave you my advice the other day, and it remains the same. Marry Adam. Look at it from my perspective: I’ve got the chance to wear a fancy, lacy dress, and walk down an aisle as a bridesmaid. You’re not going to ruin my fun.’ Sandra giggled. ‘You are getting married, even if I have to drag you down the aisle myself. I want to be a bridesmaid! It’s the nearest I’m likely to ever get to being part of a wedding party.’
‘Sand, stop joking around for a minute, and listen!’
Sandra sat down. ‘Sorry. I... I didn’t realise you were being serious. I mean, we talked about this at lunch the other day, and I thought it was sorted. Look, as I say, it’s probably just cold feet. I’ve read a lot about weddings—being a wannabe bride—and I know that some people get cold feet just before the wedding. That’s all it is. You just have to ride it out.’
‘No. It’s more than that.’ Lynne stood up. ‘I’ve had the same dream three times this week.’
‘Okay, so it’s a pretty bad case of cold feet syndrome; but I’m telling you, that’s what it is.’
Lynne appeared lost in thought for a moment, before continuing: ‘It’s really... I don’t know. The dream is so vivid. This man looks like an angel, with a halo and everything.’
‘Yes, I know; he tells you not to marry Adam.’
‘Yes.’
‘The really freaky thing was, last night the man said more. He said, “You shouldn’t marry him; you’re making a mistake. Someone else needs you.” I started to wonder who the other person was; the “someone else”. I thought of Steve. I mean, he’s the only other man I’ve ever dated properly. Steve phoned me the day after I had the first dream.’
‘Damn that Steve. I’m so angry that he phoned you, messing up your head. He’s a jerk. Can’t you see he is making you feel like this; confusing you. It’s probably some sort of game he’s playing.’
Sandra picked up the pink bridesmaid dress. She walked over to the mirror and held the dress up in front of her. ‘You don’t think the colour clashes with my hair, do you?’
‘Sandra, shut up!’
‘What?’
‘Sorry. I’m just not in the mood for this.’
‘For what?’
‘Talking about the wedding.’
‘Lynne, I hate to break this to you, but you are getting married in a couple of weeks time. If you don’t want to talk about it now—’
‘Am I getting married?’ She stared at her friend.
Sandra’s face dropped.
‘I might not be.’
‘Lynne.’
‘Sand, this dream is so real. It’s getting to the stage where I’m too scared to go to sleep at night.’
‘Lynne, sit down.’
She sat on Sandra’s bed. Sandra placed the bridesmaid dress back on the bed where it had been, and sat next to her friend. ‘Do you still feel that you don’t love Adam?’
‘Adam is so kind. He’s lovely.’
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘I think I still love him. It’s just not as strong as when we first started going out together.’
‘You can’t expect that. Do you still get on together?’
‘Yes. Well, most of the time.’
‘Well then.’
‘What?’
‘If you still love him, you should marry him,’ said Sandra.
Lynne sighed.
‘Do you still love “Stupid Steve”? Is that it? Because—’
‘No!’ Lynne looked at Sandra, angrily.
‘So what’s the problem then?’
‘I haven’t told you everything.’ Lynne touched her knees, appearing almost too frightened to continue speaking.
‘Come on then,’ coaxed Sandra.
‘Last night, in the dream, the man said that if I marry Adam, my soul mate will die.’
‘Oh, Lynne!’ Sandra stood up. ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I mean, I know you’re stressed out about the wedding, but... but this is ridiculous.’
‘Is it?’ Lynne seemed to be questioning herself, eyes down, looking at her hands.
‘Oh, I don’t know what you want.’ Sandra sighed. ‘I think you’re lucky to have someone like Adam. I wish I could find someone like him.’
‘Adam is lovely.’
‘Well, are you going to let a few last minute nerves ruin everything? I don’t think he’ll be very happy if you announce you can’t marry him because a man in your dream told you not to.’
‘I know, but if you had the dreams, you would understand why I’m feeling like this.’
‘Okay, okay. Why don’t you go and see Steve? Get it out of your system. See him one last time. That will prove that you’re making the right decision.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Come on... I’ll come with you.’
‘I don’t know where he lives.’
‘Kev does. He still sees him sometimes. I’ll get the address. All of this is Kev’s fault. If he didn’t tell Steve you’re getting married, you wouldn’t be having these freaky dreams. He’s messed with your head, calling you like that—the two-timing rat. He obviously hasn’t changed. You used to love him, and he’s opened up old wounds by phoning you just before you’re about to commit your life to another man. Anyone would be having bad dreams after that. Even the thought of Steve Reynolds is enough to give me nightmares.’
‘Sand, I had the first dream before I spoke to Steve.’
‘Yes, but you had the others because you spoke to him. Trust me, as soon as you see him again, you’ll remember how much you hate him.’
Lynne remembered how her old feelings for Steve had bubbled up to the surface when she heard his voice on the phone. Hesitantly, she followed Sandra out of the house.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ asked Sandra.
Lynne sat in the passenger seat of Sandra’s car and stared out towards Steve’s house. It was a big house. Semi-detached. I bet it’s got a big garden, she thought. Steve had obviously done well for himself in the past few years. It was a far cry from the one-bed flat they had shared when they were living together. But he had been studying to be a lawyer, and she’d heard that he’d secured a lucrative job in the city, so she wasn’t too shocked or surprised at seeing his house.
She sighed and looked at Sandra, who was using her rear-view mirror to adjust her make-up. ‘I’m a bit nervous, Sand. Do you think that’s stupid?’
‘No. Look, you don’t have to go and talk to him. But... I think it would help.’ Sandra paused. Then, shrugging her shoulders, she said: ‘I’d be quite happy to drive away if you’d prefer. He gives me the creeps. Ooh... just thinking that we’re outside his house makes me feel so... ugh.’
Lynne took a deep breath, opened the car door, and stepped out. ‘I won’t be long.’
‘Okay.’ Sandra looked at her with a concerned frown.
‘I am doing the right thing, aren’t I?’ she asked, turning back to look into the car.
‘Yes.’ Sandra nodded, but she appeared unsure.
Lynne smiled nervously and shut the door behind her. Standing next to the car, she stared at Steve’s house, trying to make up her mind whether to go ahead, or turn back. After a few moments, she braced herself and began walking towards the door.
It was 9 pm. The lights were on. With each step she took, she could feel her heart beat faster.
Her hands trembled as she rang the door bell. What am I doing here?
A woman opened the door; her face looked familiar. Lynne racked her brains trying to remember where she’d seen her before.
‘Hello,’ said the woman, not appearing to have recognised Lynne at all. She seemed eager to get back to whatever she had been doing when the doorbell had rung; a look of impatience on her face.
‘Um... Is Steve in?’ asked Lynne.
‘Yes. Who are you?’ asked the woman, narrowing her eyes.
Lynne’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered who the woman was. Alicia. The last time Lynne had seen her was over four years ago, when she’d caught her in bed with Steve. ‘Just say I’m an old friend,’ Lynne answered, bluntly, as if preparing herself for a showdown at the door when Steve appeared. Why did this woman still make her feel this way after so many years? I’ve moved on; I’m marrying Adam in a couple of weeks, she reminded herself. She forced a smile at Alicia. Almost a grin. Too much of a smile.
Alicia didn’t return her smile. Her face was hard, her eyes distant, as if she were trying to remember where she had seen Lynne before. ‘I’ll go and get Steve,’ she said, walking away. Then, turning back towards Lynne, she asked, ‘Um... what’s your name?’
‘Lynne,’ she said, almost dramatically, as if she were an actress playing an award-winning role; as if she were hoping that as soon as she said her name, Alicia would fall to her knees and apologise for ruining her relationship. But it didn’t happen. Alicia seemed oblivious to her; just as she had been when Lynne had opened her bedroom door on that wet May afternoon, all those years ago, and caught her in the act with Steve.
For months after she had caught them together, Lynne often had flashbacks. Alicia’s face would appear to her; the face of a woman in the throes of wild abandon. This image had become imprinted on Lynne’s mind. The flashbacks became more distorted as the months went by, and the look in Alicia’s eyes—full of joy and smiling, when she had sat up in bed looking towards Lynne at the door—became Alicia laughing at her. Lynne had always felt somehow inferior to her ever since that day, because Steve had chosen her.
Lynne stood waiting at the front door, her stomach churning. Somehow, the fact that he was still with Alicia made it all worse; proving to Lynne that she was inferior to Alicia. The woman had managed to steal Steve and keep him. Lynne turned around towards Sandra’s car. Why am I still here? She questioned herself. Initially, she had thought Steve phoned her because he was alone, and jealous about her impending marriage; but she’d been proved wrong. There seemed no point in her staying here, prolonging her humiliation. She walked away towards the car; towards a place of refuge.
‘Hello, Lynne?’ Steve’s voice called out to her just as she reached the gate.
Her plan to escape had failed. She turned around slowly to face him, and walked back towards the door, her head bowed. As she got closer she dared to look up at him, and saw Alicia standing behind him.
‘Lynne!’ He seemed surprised to see her. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I was just passing.’ She looked over towards Alicia; a subconscious reflex.
Steve followed her eyes and he appeared embarrassed for a moment. He coughed.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ asked Alicia.
‘This is Lynne. Um, Lynne, this is Alicia.’ Steve shifted uncomfortably as the two women smiled falsely at each other.
‘How do you know Steve?’ asked Alicia, her cold, expressionless gaze fixed on Lynne.
‘We’re old friends,’ said Steve quickly.
‘Oh.’ Alicia stared at her with glazed eyes, as if lost in thought momentarily. ‘You do look familiar. Have we met before?’
‘No,’ said Lynne.
‘Were you at the wedding? Is that where I’ve seen you before?’ Then turning to Steve: ‘Was she at our wedding, honey?’
Lynne froze. Her eyes were drawn towards Steve’s hand and sure enough she saw a gold band. Alicia and Steve were married.
‘I really must go,’ said Lynne, staring into the middle distance. ‘I really must go.’ She turned around and walked quickly towards Sandra’s car, wanting to run. Opening the door of the car, she cried out: ‘Drive!’
Sandra’s eyes widened in shock at the abruptness. ‘What? What happened? Did you see him?’
‘Just drive, will you!’
‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’ asked Sandra, parking the car outside the tower block that housed Lynne’s flat. ‘Lynne?’
Lynne looked at her friend, and then back at the window.
‘You haven’t said a word since we left Steve’s place.’
‘Don’t say his name,’ snapped Lynne.
‘Well, at least that got a reaction,’ said Sandra, sighing. ‘You’ve still got feelings for him, haven’t you?’
‘No,’ said Lynne to the car window.
‘Yes, you have. Look, it’s your life. I know I gave you a hard time about it earlier, but if you’ve decided you can’t marry Adam, it’s really up to you.’
‘He’s married,’ said Lynne.
‘Who? Adam?’ Sandra looked at her, wide-eyed.
‘No, stupid, Steve.’
‘Oh, “Stupid Steve”; yes, I know.’
‘You knew? Why didn’t you warn me?’ Lynne’s brow furrowed and her mouth fell open. ‘You allowed me to go there, to his home, and make a fool of myself! What sort of friend are you? You had so many opportunities to tell me he’s married! What were you thinking?’
‘Calm down... I...’ Sandra shrugged her shoulders.
‘Why didn’t you tell me he’s married?’
‘The main reason I brought you to his house is so that you’d see he is all settled with a wife, and he’d moved on. I’m sure I told you he’s married.’
‘Well, you didn’t! And it’s her of all people!’
‘Who?’
‘Alicia! The girl he was having an affair with!’
‘Oh my God. Sorry, Lynne. I didn’t know he’d married her. If I had, I swear I would never have brought you here. Are you okay?’
‘I’ll live.’
‘Sorry. But, look it this way: you didn’t want to marry him, so she’s welcome to him.’
Lynne remained silent.
Sandra’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not telling me you were considering getting back together with him, after what he did?’
‘No!’ exclaimed Lynne. ‘That’s not it!’
‘Good. You had me worried there for a minute. Anyway, I think this has done the trick; I doubt you’ll be having that weird dream anymore. You can marry Adam now, and live happily ever after. No more doubts.’
Lynne smiled sadly. ‘I suppose you’re right. I know you’re going to think I’m mad for saying this, but I think I was having doubts because I was still wondering “what if” me and Steve had got married. I used to really love him, you know?’ Lynne opened the car door to leave, a lump in her throat.
‘It’s okay, Lynne. I knew that. I was sure that you going to Steve’s, and seeing he’d moved on, would set you free.’
Lynne looked back at her friend. ‘It’s not that I don’t love Adam. I do, but...’
‘I know,’ said Sandra, noticing the tears forming in Lynne’s eyes. ‘You just needed to know whether you still had any feelings for Steve.’
‘Something like that,’ said Lynne, as she stepped out of the car.
Lynne cried openly as soon as she got inside her flat. She felt grateful that Adam was away for a work conference this weekend; it would give her time alone to deal with her emotions. She recalled the thoughts she’d had after the first dream, when she felt sure that she didn’t love Adam anymore. The edges were blurred now. There were no cut and dried feelings; nothing was black and white.
As her tears subsided, a sense of freedom took their place. It was as if the tears had lined a pathway taking her further away from her pain. She had finally let go. She could close the door on her feelings for Steve. There was no more to be said between them. Theirs had been a close relationship once, but it had come to an end; even if it was an end that she had not wanted, having once believed that they were destined to be together for ever. She wiped the final few stray tears from her eyes, as she sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and staring out at the starless night sky. The realisation struck her that she should be happy she was being given another chance at love: Adam wanted to marry her. They were moving ever closer to that day. A joyful feeling soothed her, almost like the sun coming out from behind grey clouds after a storm. At last, she could finally let go of the past and look towards the future, without wondering what might have been. And she realised that she did love Adam. It was that stupid dream, and then Steve’s phone-call, that had put any seeds of doubt in her mind. It had been “cold feet”, pure and simple; just as Sandra had said.
As she thought of Adam, his warm smile and his loving arms, she knew she was lucky to have him, and she wished he could be here with her now.
‘If I have one more drink, I’ll fall over,’ said Lynne.
‘It’s your hen night, you’re supposed to get bladdered,’ said Lucy, her friend and former work colleague.
‘I don’t want a massive hangover on my wedding day. It’s supposed to be the best day of my life. I want to remember it.’
‘Oh, you’ll have the photos to remember it by!’ said Lucy, laughing and taking a quick snap of Lynne, as she sat bleary-eyed at the bar.
‘That’s another thing, I have to look half-decent in the wedding photos.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s amazing what make-up can do these days. Here you go, drink up,’ said Kelly, Lynne’s sister, handing her another drink.
‘I’m going to have to head back home soon,’ said Sandra, looking at her watch.
‘Poor Sandy, designated driver. Missing out on all the fun. You must be dying of boredom watching us drinking!’ said Lucy, almost falling off her stool.
‘No, I’m okay. I don’t really drink that much, anyway,’ said Sandra.
‘Okay. We’ll have one more dance, then we’ll leave. What’s the time?’ asked Kelly.
‘Three o’clock,’ said Sandra.
***
After dropping Kelly off at her house, Sandra parked the car outside Lucy’s flat. ‘Bye, Luce. See you again soon,’ shouted Lynne from the car as Lucy stumbled up to her front door.
‘Am I glad to see the back of her,’ said Sandra.
‘Oh, she’s okay once you get to know her.’ Lynne giggled.
‘Yeah, if you like alcoholics,’ sneered Sandra. ‘She didn’t stop drinking from the moment we set foot in the club.’
‘She’s just happy for me,’ said Lynne, looking at her hands.
‘Yeah, sorry, Lynne. I must sound like a moody cow.’
‘It’s okay, I’d be a bit peed off if I’d been the only one who couldn’t have any alcohol all night. You did enjoy it, though, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, it was great. I think I’m just getting a bit too old for clubbing. The music was so loud!’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, you’re never too old for clubbing.’
‘Well, everyone else in there looked about sixteen.’
‘So do you,’ said Lynne, smiling.
‘Thanks.’ Sandra smiled back.
‘I knew I could get a smile out of you somehow.’ Lynne laughed.
‘So, tomorrow’s the big day,’ said Sandra, driving away from Lucy’s flat.
‘Yeah. I’ll be an old married woman.’
‘Are you excited?’
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ Lynne looked out of the car window. There were no more doubts in her mind about her love for Adam. She hadn’t had any more of those dreams. Yet, there was something, a feeling, like a distant drum. It refused to go away.
They arrived at Sandra’s flat after 4 am.
‘Hardly seems worth going to sleep,’ said Lynne, looking at the clock. ‘We’ll have to get up soon.’
‘Yeah.’ Sandra nodded, yawned, and fell onto the sofa. ‘Oh, I’m really going to miss this.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Lynne, feeling confused.
‘Well... you staying at my flat after a night out. You won’t be able to do that when you’re married.’
Lynne smiled. ‘Don’t be silly, nothing’s going to change just because I’m getting married.’ As she said it, she averted her eyes from Sandra’s gaze. Then, turning away from her, she said: ‘I’m tired. I think I should go to bed.’
‘Okay. Er... Lynne, are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m just tired.’
‘You’re not having second thoughts again?’
‘No, that’s in the past.’ She turned back towards Sandra and smiled, feeling like a fraud. Something wasn’t right.
‘So the dreams have stopped?’
Lynne shivered then, as if someone had opened all the windows letting in a chilling breeze. Although that sensation only lasted for a couple of seconds, she was left shaken, and an eerie presence seemed to pervade the room. ‘Y... Yeah,’ she managed to say. ‘I haven’t had any more of those.’ The strange feeling had passed as suddenly as it arrived. She sighed deeply, and continued: ‘You were right, Sand, it was just a touch of cold feet.’ Then, as if trying hard to convince herself: ‘I’m fine, really. I’ve just had one too many drinks.’
‘You look beautiful, Lynne.’ Her mother smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she stood behind her. Tears were in her eyes.
Lynne smiled back at her mother’s reflection. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ It’s true, she thought, I do actually look ‘beautiful’; nothing like my real self. Exactly what I wanted. The beautician is a miracle worker. A tear threatened to fall as she surveyed her appearance, but she stopped herself, for fear of ruining her mascara. Feeling the silk skirt of the ivory dress between her fingers, she tried to keep her mind on the present time, not wanting to think of anything that could ruin the day. I have to get through this, she said to herself.
Sandra ran into the room, holding the skirt of the pink bridesmaid dress in her hands to stop herself tripping over it. ‘Hurry up!’ she said quickly. ‘We’ll be late!’
‘The bride is allowed to be late,’ said Lynne’s mother.
Sandra stood beside her and looked at Lynne, her mouth wide open. She appeared almost frozen in time for a few seconds. ‘You’re so lucky,’ she said, eventually.
‘It’ll be you next,’ said Lynne.
‘Yeah,’ Sandra replied, dejectedly. ‘It might happen, one day, I suppose.’
‘Oh, Mum, you haven’t met Sandra yet, have you? She’s my closest friend.’
‘Yes, you have spoken about her before. Nice to meet you, dear.’ She smiled at Sandra. ‘So, you’re unmarried? Are you seeing anyone?’
‘Er... not at the moment.’
Lynne could see Sandra squirm, and was about to interject and save her friend from the interrogation, when her mother started talking again.
‘These things don’t just happen, Sandra, dear. You have to help them along. You don’t have time to waste. You’ll be left on the shelf if you’re not careful. You can’t just wait for Mr. Right to knock on your door; you have to look for him. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince charming.’ Then, looking at Lynne proudly, she added: ‘Look at my lovely daughter. Don’t you wish you were getting married today?’
Sandra appeared to be stunned into silence.
‘She doesn’t mean any harm,’ Lynne whispered in Sandra’s ear as they walked out of the door. ‘She’s just proud that her daughter’s getting married.’
Sandra sighed. ‘The sad thing is, she’s got a point. I am thirty now. I’m running out of time.’
‘No you’re not,’ said Lynne, as they walked together towards the white Rolls-Royce waiting outside the door. ‘You’ve got plenty of time. And, you’re pretty; you could have your pick of men.’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t had much luck in the past.’
‘Don’t let my mum get to you. She’s obsessed with marriage. It’s not the be all, end all.’
‘I know, but I wish I could find someone special.’
‘You will.’
They sat in the back of the car, next to Lynne’s dad.
‘I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes. We’re going to be late,’ he grumbled.
‘It’s okay, Dad; the bride’s allowed to be late.’
Lynne had tried so hard that morning to put the dream to the back of her mind; but now, as she walked down the aisle towards Adam, she could almost hear the voice in her head: “Don’t do it.”
After she and Sandra had returned home from the hen night, Lynne had fallen into a deep sleep on Sandra’s sofa-bed. She’d woken up in a sweat, only an hour later, with heart palpitations. The dream had returned; only this time the “angel” appeared so real, as if he were in the room with her.
‘Lynne, you are making a mistake. Adam is not right for you. He doesn’t love you. If you marry him, you will regret it, and your true love will die...’
She had sat up in bed, shaken; unable to comprehend why she was having these dreams. Somehow, she did fall asleep again, and thankfully her other dreams were pleasant enough. In the morning, she put it down to yet more cold feet, and tried to concentrate on other things. Surely, once she married Adam, all of these thoughts of doubt would go away? Nervously, anxiously, she willed the clock to move forward, so that she could get to the church and get the wedding over with.
Standing at the altar, Adam was beaming. Lynne couldn’t help stumbling over her words, and had to fake a smile throughout the ceremony, to the point that it felt like her face would become permanently fixed in this false, plastic, half-smile. She kept noticing Adam’s best man, Paul, frowning at her. Did he sense that her heart wasn’t in it? She tried very hard to disguise her thoughts. Sandra, who stood beside her, whispered, ‘Are you all right?’, on more than one occasion, and seemed very concerned. Somehow, Lynne got through the wedding, but was trembling as she walked with Adam, arm in arm, out of the church.
Breathing deeply to take in the fresh air, Lynne felt grateful that it was all over. The atmosphere in the church had been stifling.
Sandra happily threw confetti over the newlyweds. ‘You have to throw your bouquet now... Remember, aim at me!’ She winked.
Lynne nodded towards her and practically handed her the bouquet. Sandra seemed so happy to actually have it in her hands, that she didn’t even appear to notice that Lynne hadn’t thrown it. Sandra held the bouquet aloft, like a trophy, for all to see.
Feeling overwhelmed, Lynne just wanted to be anywhere else, away from the hundreds of eyes that were looking at her and expecting her to be happy and smiling. Her gut feeling was, ‘Oh my God, what have I just done?’; but there was no rhyme or reason for her feeling like that... just the bitter aftertaste of a recurring dream. Nothing tangible; just thoughts and feelings.
At the wedding reception, Lynne drank too much champagne. At first, she liked the way the alcohol relaxed her, and helped her to dispel the disturbing thoughts she’d been having. The horrible sense of regret that had been tugging at her, faded with each sip of the fizzy liquid.
Soon, she was stumbling and finding it hard to keep her balance on the 4-inch heels of her new shoes, so she sat down and ate some food in the hope that it would neutralise the effect of the alcohol. After eating just one canapé, she felt as though she might throw up, so she made an excuse to Adam that she had to go to the toilet. Where’s Sand? she wondered, determined to find her friend; needing to speak to someone who could help put things into perspective.
As she stood up, the whole room seemed to change and move around her, like it was spinning. It took a moment before she found her bearings. As she walked unsteadily away from the bridal table, she spotted Sandra talking to Paul, Adam’s best man, in the far corner of the hall. It looked like Sandra was flirting with him. Lynne smiled, almost forgetting her worries. Perhaps Paul and Sandra would get together. She had never seen Paul with a girlfriend in all the years she’d been dating Adam. Paul is such a nice, gentle man. Sandra could do a lot worse than him.
Then she saw Sandra walk away towards the toilets. Paul looked in Lynne’s direction. Again, he wore a frown on his face. He began walking towards her.
‘Hi, Paul,’ she said, trying hard not to slur her words.
‘You’ve been drinking all evening,’ he said curtly. ‘You’re making a spectacle of yourself. Have some respect for Adam.’ He walked away in a huff.
Lynne was left open-mouthed. Her face began to get hotter and hotter, until she thought she might combust. Looking around her, she saw the smiles on the faces of guests on the dance floor turning to concerned frowns. She became aware of her slouched posture, caused by trying to stay upright on her heels. Doing her best to straighten up, she smiled her well-worn plastic smile, as she walked embarrassed towards the toilets.
Lynne found Sandra washing her hands.
‘Er... you look very, um... merry!’ said Sandra, giggling, but at the same time managing to look like her mother usually looked when Lynne was a teenager returning home from a night out clubbing.
Lynne caught sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors, and had to blink to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her hair had long since fallen out of its style. It had been neatly pinned above her head with a few ringlets hanging down on either side; but now it was lopsided, with bits of stray hair falling this way and that, so it looked more like a bird’s nest. Her mascara had somehow become smudged over one of her cheeks, and her lipstick had also been smudged.
‘I look like a clown,’ she said.
‘Yes, you do,’ agreed Sandra, laughing. ‘Let me sort you out, Mrs. Green. I’ve got my make-up bag here. You’ll be looking beautiful again in two ticks. So, how does it feel to be a married woman?’
Lynne’s face dropped.
‘Lynne?’
‘I have done the right thing, haven’t I?’ She appeared to be asking herself, as she looked in the mirror.
‘Has something happened between you and Adam since last night?’ asked Sandra, confused. ‘I thought you were excited about getting married. What has he done?’
‘Him? No. It’s me. I’m the one having doubts again. What’s wrong with me?’ She sat on the bin, which was one of those large bins with a lid; just the right height for a seat (if you are drunk).
‘Ugh... Lynne, get off there. There are so many germs on bins. You’ll ruin your dress.’
‘I had the dream again last night,’ she said, standing up and wobbling, so that Sandra had to put out her arm to stop her falling over.
‘It was so real. It freaked me out. He said I shouldn’t marry Adam.’
‘Okay,’ Sandra said, softly. ‘Look, you’re married now, and everything’s fine. The world hasn’t come to an end. No one’s died. So, just put it down to cold feet.’
‘You keep saying that: “cold feet, cold feet”; but it doesn’t make sense. I’ve been with Adam for the last three years; why have I only been having these dreams in the last few weeks?’
‘It’s about the wedding,’ said Sandra. ‘As it was coming nearer, you were getting nervous, and maybe you were even scared. Some people have a deep fear of commitment. Marriage is more of a big deal than living together. You were scared to get married, and your dreams reflected that. You were trying to convince yourself not to marry Adam. But as I say, you’re married now, and you haven’t suddenly grown an extra head; so, I’m sure you won’t be having those dreams anymore. Trust me, I’ve watched enough daytime TV to know what I’m talking about! You have faced your fear now, so it’s over.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Lynne smiled a crooked smile. It couldn’t be commitment phobia, she reasoned, because she’d always wanted to get married. The dream had left her shaken, and had turned what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life into some sort of waking nightmare.
‘Just have sympathy for me,’ said Sandra, as she fixed Lynne’s hair. ‘I’m officially unlucky in love. Even though I caught your bouquet, I’m having serious doubts I’ll ever find my knight in shining armour. The bridesmaid is supposed to get off with the best man, right?’
‘Oh yeah, I saw you chatting with Paul,’ said Lynne, as she reapplied her lipstick.
‘Hmm... Yeah, I was thinking: here’s a nice man; he’s single, about my age. Why didn’t you tell me he’s gay?’
‘Gay?’ Lynne turned to look at Sandra, and accidentally drew a red line of lipstick on her cheek in the process. She grabbed a tissue and began wiping it off. ‘Paul’s not gay!’
‘Oh come on, it’s written all over him. He didn’t fall for any of my flirting techniques.’
‘Er... just because he didn’t flirt back, doesn’t mean he’s gay.’
‘Believe me, he is gay. I read once in a magazine, foolproof ways to tell if a man is gay. I tested him, and he is definitely gay.’
Lynne laughed. ‘He’s just a nice man, Sand. He’s a bit shy; hasn’t had much experience with women. You probably scared him.’
‘Well, at least I made you laugh,’ said Sandra. ‘I’m glad my failed love life is of benefit to someone.’
‘Do you want me to tell Adam you like Paul? Then maybe we could go out on a double-date?’
‘Er... no, thanks. I think he’d prefer Adam to me; he’s more his type.’
‘Sand!’ Lynne laughed again. ‘No wonder you’re still single!’