Chasing Dreams by Kate Hogan

Shelly had achieved hers, and now it was Andrew’s turn . . .

SHELLY clicked off her smartphone. How many applications did she have to submit before she was called to an interview? After all the effort, the study, the dreams, she was going nowhere.

She tried to relax the tension in her neck, her mind flashing back to that morning. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the words were out before she could stop them.

“Andrew,” she’d almost hissed, running a frustrated hand through her hair when he’d mentioned a holiday. “Without my wages we can barely keep our heads above water.”

“I just thought –” he began.

“The bills could pay themselves?” She didn’t need to add that the garage, his dream business start-up, was running at a loss.

She watched him cringe as if he’d been struck a blow, the fatigue around his eyes deepening. She felt a pang of guilt at hurting him.

She turned away, angry at herself for not being able to rein in her frustration, before turning back and continuing more gently.

“Andrew,” she whispered. “We need to face facts. Losing my job means we could lose a lot more.”

Andrew didn’t argue. He rarely did any more.

She couldn’t stand it. All the lively debate they’d once enjoyed had disappeared. He’d once found her exciting, but now . . .

He’d never have found her at all if he hadn’t turned up unexpectedly at the flat she shared with Jo, his sister.

They’d been in such high spirits. Jo was so pleased her brother had turned up to share in the spectacle of both her and Shelly’s graduation ceremony. They’d talked and laughed most of the night.

He wasn’t like the other guys Shelly knew. He seemed so much more substantial – alive, even.

“I can see why Jo loves it here,” he said as they carried the picnic basket out to the car the following day for the tour of the valley Jo had insisted they took.

“Me, too,” Shelly replied. “It’s beautiful; so untamed. It’s . . .” She was intending to further extol the beauty of the scenery when the look in Andrew’s eyes silenced her.

“Come on, you two. Are you going to put that food in the boot, or picnic in the garden?”

Shelly had turned suddenly, almost dropping the basket.

“Watch it!” Jo shouted as Shelly struggled to regain her grip.

Yes, watch it, Shelly thought, conscious of Andrew’s fingers just a little too close for comfort to her own.

Andrew had driven while Jo navigated, providing Shelly with a safe distance in which to consider if the warmth spreading through her veins had more to do with the man in the driving seat than the exhilarating country air.

She realised, as her eyes kept being drawn to the vulnerable curve of Andrew’s neck, that it was the latter.

With larch and birch trees spreading in myriad colours from yellow, bronze and gold through the length of the valley, the drive had been breathtaking.

Andrew, intent on capturing the scenery in all its autumn glory, had insisted they make several stops in order to stretch their legs and take photographs.

“You two together,” Jo had suggested.

Shelly had tried to hold back as Jo reached for the camera, but Andrew had pulled her close.

His sun-warmed hand brushed against the bare skin of her waist as her T-shirt rose, exposing the tiniest hint of midriff. She shivered in unexpected anticipation.

“Looks good. Smile!” Jo instructed, seemingly oblivious.

“Feels good, too,” Andrew said quietly, pressing his cheek so close to hers, his breath mingling tantalisingly with her own.

She pulled away quickly, but the damage had been done. She’d been no match for Andrew after that, with the energy between them acting like a charge.

The wedding announcement had been a surprise to everyone. Shelly, the dedicated bachelor girl keen to pursue her doctorate, swept off her feet.

Except for Jo, the majority of her friends thought she’d gone mad. They couldn’t know how she felt when Andrew held her in his arms.

Now, five years later they danced away from each other, almost as if the space between them was littered with the broken shards of their dreams, each of them afraid of opening old wounds or creating new ones if they ventured across the boundary they’d created.

There had been a

time when he’d wanted her so much. Now he didn’t seem to want her at all.

She checked her watch. He was working late again. The garage had become his life.

“It’s a big chance for all of us, Shel,” he’d told her when his dad suggested taking early retirement and using the money to set up a garage. “I’ll be able to support you while you complete your studies. Dad can organise most of the business side of things and I can see to the mechanical side of things.”

He looked at her pleadingly.

“Otherwise I’m going nowhere, Shel. The job I’m in is a dead end. I’m not like you or our Jo. I’ve only ever been good at practical things.”

At first it had seemed like an adventure – both of them working flat out to achieve their dreams.

Shelly had achieved hers first, and Andrew’s joy overwhelmed her.

“A PHD, Shel! In less than three years,” he repeated over and over again, his eyes glistening with pride.

She’d been proud, too. She’d worked so hard.

He’d bought her a bracelet to mark the occasion. The charm was two tiny hearts entwined.

The fact that the garage was slow to develop custom hadn’t mattered when she’d known the university would offer her a full-time teaching post, even if only on a contractual basis.

The climate had looked good for the future. How was anyone to know how quickly fortunes would change, leading to cuts in jobs at every level?

She couldn’t help wishing she’d taken her qualifications into the business world, as Jo had.

She wished Andrew had stayed with his old firm – at least then there had been a fixed wage coming in.

She felt a fool, too, after all that study. She’d been the first to go from the department. They’d offered her some sessional teaching hours if she wanted them, but she’d declined.

Pride had come before the fall. She hadn’t been able to find any work since.

At least Andrew had seen sense about the holiday. The note he’d left was brief and to the point, with no words of endearment or apologies. The holiday was cancelled.

She’d crushed the note in her hand. She should have been glad, yet all she felt was a dull ache inside.

The sound of his car pulling into the drive made her stiffen. She vowed to say nothing about his lateness.

She couldn’t help thinking he was wasting his time trying to make a failed venture work, and destroying their relationship rather than facing facts.

“Sorry I’m late, Shel,” he apologised.

“Nothing new,” she answered, all at once cursing herself for opening her mouth, hardly recognising the person she was becoming.

Andrew ignored the jibe, but the fatigue on his face intensified.

“I took Dad home. He was tired. That’s why I’m late,” he said, turning towards the lounge, his big frame filling the doorway. “I think the stress is getting to him.”

To all of us, she wanted to say, but thankfully held her tongue.

She turned to the stove and saw that the cheese pie and baked potatoes she’d had on a low light to keep warm now looked dry.

“I think the meal’s spoiled,” she said. “You can eat it if you like, or . . .”

Andrew caught her hand. “It doesn’t matter, Shel.” She saw the desolation in his eyes as almost a reflection of her own feelings. She pulled away; felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

They both ate in silence. It was a silence stretched so tight she couldn’t help but worry it was over between them, couldn’t help but think maybe the love they’d shared had been held together by the fabric of their dreams.

She swallowed the ache in her throat then pushed away her plate.

After Andrew had gone to bed she felt the silence of their earlier meal like a weight on her shoulders.

She decided with a heavy heart that, if it was over between them, she’d find it easier to secure another post if she moved back south.

The competition wasn’t as fierce as in the north. She’d be able to pay her share of the bills till the sale of the house was sorted out.

She worked through the finances. She reasoned that, with care, the savings they’d put aside could probably be stretched to cover the next three months’ mortgage payments.

With luck, finding a buyer for the house wouldn’t be too difficult. Both she and Andrew had fallen in love with it. Surely someone else would, too.

She glanced at the hand-stripped wood. It had taken an age to uncover the beautiful golden pine.

She’d spent hours, weekend after weekend, scraping off years of paint while Andrew opened up the fireplace, tearing out the old Fifties tiled fire surround, chipping off all the plaster and eventually revealing the original inglenook space with its curved arch.

She felt the silent trickle of a tear slipping, unasked for, down her cheek. They’d been so close then, with so much to look forward to.

After a sleepless night she woke Andrew just before seven.

He reached up and touched her cheek, as if in his half sleep he’d forgotten the distance between them.

She stepped back quickly, aware that the feeling of tenderness she was experiencing could easily weaken her resolve.

“Shel . . .” His voice sounded scared as he climbed from the bed. “Can we talk?”

All night she’d rehearsed what she was going to say, but looking at Andrew’s white, strained face, the words failed her.

“Later, then,” he said. “When I get back from the garage . . .”

She averted her eyes. “It’s getting late, Andrew,” she heard herself say. “Your dad will be wondering where you are.”

Why couldn’t she tell him she was leaving? She watched him head towards the door.

She’d always hated cowards. It would be too easy just to leave him a note and go. But surely she owed him more than that.

Pulling down a suitcase from the top of the wardrobe, she decided she’d meet him at lunchtime. She’d tell him then, face to face.

With her case packed, she rang the station to check the times of the trains before nervously dialling her parents’ number.

“Shelly, it’s lovely to hear from you. Is everything all right? You don’t usually ring in the morning.” Her mother didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re just in from a round of golf – enforced early retirement has its benefits.”

Her mother laughed. “I’m getting pretty good. I must be, or your dad wouldn’t be in such a foul mood. Give me a minute. I’ll tell him it’s you. That should cheer him up . . .”

“Mum.” Shelly bit on her lip. She didn’t want to talk to her dad.

“Hello, Shelly.” Her dad’s voice boomed down the phone. “Everything all right? Any news of a job yet? Your mum was only saying yesterday what a shame it was that you and Andy hadn’t settled up here.”

“Dad.” Shelly knew her tone was sharp, but she couldn’t help it.

At first it had seemed like an adventure

“Can you put me back on to Mum?”

She heard her dad muttering something to her mother.

“Sorry, love.” Her mother’s voice sounded apologetic. “Is something wrong?”

By the time she’d hedged the truth of a visit at such short notice, her head was beginning to ache.

“Such a terrible shame,” her mother said. “You’ve both worked so hard. How does Andy feel about you looking for a post so far away? I mean, you’d only get to see each other at weekends.”

For the first time in her life she was thankful her mother’s questions rarely required an answer.

She wasn’t up to a long drawn-out discussion on the rights or wrongs of leaving Andrew. Her parents were both so fond of him anyway that they’d have tried to dissuade her.

It was eleven-forty when she finally left on foot for the garage.

She felt the first glimmerings of anxiety as she turned the corner. The garage was closed. They never left the place unattended.

Staring across the empty forecourt, she was aware of her quickening pulse. Andrew had said last night that his dad hadn’t been too good, but she’d been too angry even to ask what was wrong.

Hastily pulling her mobile from her pocket, she dialled Andrew’s number. It switched almost immediately to voicemail – it was the same with Andrew’s dad’s mobile.

She tried Andrew’s dad’s house. There was no reply.

Her throat began to tighten as she sent text messages to them both, before hurrying out on to the road to catch a passing taxi.

By the time the cab pulled up outside the house, Shelly’s hands were shaking so hard she could hardly pass the fare to the driver. She didn’t wait for her change.

Struggling to get the key in the lock, she heard the phone ringing in the hall.

“Pull yourself together, Shelly,” she scolded, pushing open the door before running down the hall, determined that the phone wouldn’t stop ringing before she reached it.

“Andrew?” she shouted as she swept up the receiver, but the voice was unfamiliar. It took several minutes before she registered what he was saying.

It was about the CV Andrew had submitted. The company were interested, asking if he could contact them at the earliest opportunity.

She wrote down the company’s telephone number, her head spinning with questions. Andrew had applied for a real job – a proper job with a weekly wage. She’d finally got to him.

She should have felt elated, but she didn’t. She felt sick to her stomach – sick of herself, and sick with the worry.

Andrew and his dad never closed up the garage; they never turned off their phones in case someone gave them a call out.

She stopped. Yes, she thought, they’ve both been called out on a job. It was strange that both of them had gone, but . . .

She looked at her case. She was being dramatic. She’d call a taxi to take her to the train station and speak with Andrew later.

She realised she’d forgotten her case just as the taxi turned on to the main road. She was just about to ask the driver to turn back when she got the text. At the hospital, was all it

said.

Fear clutched at her throat. There had been an accident. Within moments she told the driver to change his route.

Despite the shortness of the journey, it seemed to take a lifetime. Her breath was tight in her chest, as if breathing would only serve to make things worse.

She saw Andrew near the entrance as the taxi swung into the car park. She stared at his tall, muscular frame slumped, as if in defeat, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. He was OK. But where was his dad?

She walked slowly towards him. He clasped the hand she offered, a question in his eyes.

“Your dad . . .” she began.

“He’s going to be OK,” he said. “Concussion probably. I shouldn’t have let him do the driving, but I was too –” He stopped suddenly and shook his head. “We’d been called out to scope a possible contract at short notice.

“I’ve been thinking of ways we could make the business work. Perhaps servicing a small fleet of company cars. I was too busy trying to draw up the costings.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw.

“You know I’m not too good at that side of things, then Dad just . . . I knew he hadn’t been feeling well, but . . . A car pulled out in front of us and –”

“But he’s going to be OK? You’re OK?” she said, relief flooding through her. He nodded.

“He’ll need to rest. The garage, the business, the ideas I’ve had – they’re going to have to wait.”

She thought about the company who had called after seeing Andrew’s CV. She would tell him, of course, but in her heart she knew it wasn’t what he wanted.

“I’ll help out,” she said quickly.

She wasn’t going to let him give up his dream without a fight. He’d been with her all the way to help her achieve hers.

“I learned a lot of things at college I’ve never used, but maybe I should have. I can help with the accounts, the business side of things and maybe the marketing.

“I need the experience. I could even speak with Jo. There aren’t a million jobs going at universities. I can help till your dad’s back on his feet.” She felt a sudden rush of hope. “It could be a new adventure for all of us.”

Andrew didn’t answer. “That’s if . . .” She hesitated. “That’s if you want me . . .”

“Shelly.” Andrew touched the tip of her fingers to his lips. “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

He took her gently in his arms.

She thought of the case she’d left in the hallway as she folded into his embrace.

She leaned into him, feeling the beat of his heart, in rhythm with her own, two hearts entwined, and realised that, without him, she was going nowhere. n

Shelly should have felt elated but she didn’t