Lola Jaye - While You Were Dreaming

‘Cara! Cara!’ Ade was calling out to her from across the bar. His voice was urgent, impatient. This wasn’t like Ade. He was always the calm to her chaos. The sweetness to her (and she could admit this) abrasiveness. What was going on with him?

‘Ade?’ They both started heading towards each other, almost as if they were in slow motion. Ade was clutching the cordless phone, his hand placed over the mouthpiece. ‘It’s for you,’ he whispered with a sombre expression.

Her heart began to race. Something was up. All sorts of horrid thoughts ran through her mind. Maybe they weren’t as flush as she’d thought. Maybe her business was about to fall victim to the recession after all. She could cope with anything except that. Please, no. ‘Who is it?’ she whispered, unable to take the phone from him.

‘It’s Fen Lane Hospital. They…they need to…to speak to you urgently!’ He seemed to be talking in tiny bursts, breathing in short breaths, as if he’d just swum twenty lengths. His eyes were wide and alert.

Cara felt her heart leap into her stomach as she stood rooted to the spot. The Stylistics belted out ‘Betcha By Golly Wow’ through the state-of-the-art sound system.

‘The hospital?’ she repeated in a whisper that was drowned out by the music.

‘It’s…its Lena…’ Ade said.

Millie was in the middle of what could only be described as a monumental state of bliss as one set of larger-than-average toes jutted out from the end of a very messy bed.

‘Wake up sleepy!’ she said, the rest of her body emerging from under the duvet. The foot stirred a bit in response and she leaned over to the side table, switching on the tiny pink digital radio. The beginning of a muffled yawn escaped from the snugness of the duvet as the silky voice of the DJ kicked in. ‘We’re nearing the end of drive time–here’s something from back in the day!’

‘Millie,’ moaned the drowsy voice from inside the duvet, as ‘Firestarter’ blasted over the airwaves.

‘Morning, handsome,’ she beamed. She rarely felt this happy and complete: it made a nice change.

‘What the…?’ Rik was still half asleep; he rubbed his eyes frantically.

‘It’s almost evening, time to get up!’ She said brightly, prising the covers away from his head and flashing him a beaming smile. Her untamed shoulder length curls bounced around her oval-shaped face.

‘Mmmmm, I’m hungry,’ Rik sighed. She’d been seeing him for the past month and she really, really liked him…In fact…‘Any chance of some food, Mille?’ he went on, twirling his hand in the air.

And then there was the way he said her name, the way he scrunched his nose just before he laughed; even his massive feet were cute. She’d fallen for him hard and, looking at Rik now, she knew exactly what she needed to say.

‘I…’ she began warily.

Rik leaned over to switch off her tiny pink radio–a twenty-fourth birthday present from Lena only a few months ago that matched Millie’s CD player, along with the card inscription: ‘To my irresponsible, loving, and beautiful little sister, Millie. Happy Birthday. You’re a star. Love, Lena .

‘I’ll see what’s in the fridge, but it’s probably going to be cold pizza from last night. Unless you want me to put together something from Lena’s stash. Warning though: it’s only going to be healthy stuff like aduki beans and apples. Oh, but I think I know where she keeps her secret store of Toblerone,’ Millie said excitedly.

‘Actually, don’t worry about the food,’ Rik said, suddenly changing his mind. He jumped out of bed, sliding his perfect frame into his Diesel jeans.

Her heart leapt. She wanted to say it. She really had to tell him she loved him. And now , before it was too late.

‘Rik,’ she began, realizing her lips had to move fast if she was to get the words out before he left the flat. He hardly called as it was, and they never went out to places (unless you counted the fish-and-chip shop last Saturday), so she didn’t know when the next ‘perfect’ time would come about again. He now had his shirt in his hands, after all, and his trainers had magically slipped onto his feet; she had to work fast or else the moment would be lost.

She had to tell him now .

Now .

Now! ‘I love you.’

And then silence. In fact she couldn’t hear anything but the ticking of her Betty Boo alarm clock as they stood facing one another as though they were in some type of face-off, his belt unbuckled, muscular six-pack tantalizingly naked.

She bit her bottom lip nervously and waited.

Rik merely sighed and then averted his gaze to his jacket–hooked on the edge of the wardrobe door, which was itself hanging off its hinges. He slipped into his shirt, still saying nothing, and Millie grabbed the duvet, hugging it close to her as she suddenly felt quite cold.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything, Rik?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Millie, I do like you…But…’

And there it began. A jumble of words that, once strung together, all amounted to the same thing.

He. Didn’t. Want. Her.

‘I think we need time apart,’ he muttered finally.

She pretended not to hear him, desperate to shut out the words she’d been hearing for as long as she could remember. From guys, mainly. Ex’s who clearly weren’t as perfect for her as Rik. And he was perfect for her. Rik, who spelt his name without a ‘c’. Rik, who made her feel a lot less lonely. Rik, who looked out for her. Of course she had Lena and sometimes Cara (very rarely, Cara), but it was so nice to have someone like Rik around and she needed to remind him of just why they were so, so, so, so perfect for one another. She loved him. He was the one for her and she for him.

She needed him–didn’t that count for anything?

So, what Millie did next came naturally.

‘No, stop it Millie,’ he murmured, pulling away from her tight kiss. This was futile, of course, as she was clinging onto him oh-so-desperately. Her hands digging into his arms as he attempted to extract himself from her grip and possibly from her life forever. And she couldn’t have that. Not this time and not again. She didn’t know if her heart could cope with yet another crack.

He gripped her shoulders firmly. ‘I said no, Millie!’ His voice was strong, firm, like a father telling her off, she suspected.

The mixture of pity and coldness she clearly recognized, though.

‘Don’t,’ he said, as he gently moved her face away from him. ‘Don’t do this, Millie.’

A huge feeling of rejection washed over her, threatening to devour every one of her senses if she didn’t begin some sort of damage limitation.

‘I get it, you’re knackered, I shouldn’t have woken you up! Go home, get some rest and I’ll see you later?’ she said breathlessly, but he returned a look she couldn’t quite read–or didn’t want to.

‘No, I don’t think it’s a good idea, seeing as though–’

‘No! Don’t say it!’ she snapped, jumping off the bed and leaving the bed shaking in her wake.

‘It has to be said because you clearly weren’t listening earlier, Millie,’ he replied gently.

She silently begged him not to say the words again. Yes, she’d heard something in the early hours of the morning after a lovely evening together but, as usual, her natural refusal to absorb or process any of the hurtful words had kicked in.

‘It’s over,’ he said.

She placed her hands over her ears, wanting to switch the radio back on, needing to block out what he was saying to her.

‘We are over. I thought I made myself clear before.’

She threw her hands back down. ‘But, I thought–’