Someone Else's Dream (8 page)

“Wish I bought some clean knickers,” Donna chirped. It was met with a smile by Carla.

“Just go soldier,” Carla suggested, prompting Donna to burst out laughing, careful, though, not to let her laughs pound her head. Fortunately the painkillers had already kicked in.

“What’s so funny?” Carla added, looking confused,

Through her laughter, Donna replied, “Its commando, you fool.”

Carla giggled, she’d known the saying had some military meaning. They sat in further silence, until Donna made a fresh coffee and brought it outside.

“So you gonna send them your porn?” Donna queried, in some ways already regretting what she had done to her friend’s novel. She knew it was dear to her heart. It had been fun doing it, but, at the time she wasn’t quite so sure now.

“I suppose so,” Carla muttered unconvincingly and certainly uninspired. This just confirmed what Donna had been thinking.

“Of course, if you do, it wouldn’t be your story; you would have ruined the book you loved and you will forever feel that you let yourself down,” said Donna, to Carla’s surprise, who looked at her friend open-mouthed, but with a sense of relief inside her.

She had felt feelings like that ever since she had woken up. The feelings had even put her recent nightmare to the back of her mind. She felt a smile come to her face and a great love for her best friend.

“I am right aren’t I?” added Donna.

Carla nodded, “You are and it’s really just not me, is it?”

“No it’s not and that’s what I love about you girl. Keep the one we done, as sort of a reference book of sex. Try some of the stuff out, you may enjoy it.”

Carla felt her face redden. She’d certainly never tried any of the stuff Donna had written the night before. “Have you done that stuff?” she asked Donna.

Donna just answered straight faced; “most of it, a few I made up, but I’m soon going to put them in practice”. She raised her eyebrows at Carla.

“I could never do that, I’d be too embarrassed,” Carla blushed,

“No you wouldn’t, you just ain’t met the right guy yet. Talking about right guys, you seeing limp-dick Darren again?”

“He’s not limp, he’s lovely and yes I am seeing him again. Saturday, actually, we’re having a drink in town.”

“Do they serve alcohol in the kindergarten?”

Carla didn’t answer. In truth, she had no real answer and besides Donna would not have realised that she felt safe with Darren. He wasn’t a threat, he just needed some guidance.

They both felt well enough for some cornflakes, followed by more coffee out on the veranda. “I do love this place,” crooned Donna.

“Me too, one thing I’ve got to thank Charlotte for.”

“Why don’t you self-publish?” Donna asked.

“Hmmm... sounds expensive!”

“Cost you absolutely nothing my girl. For a legacy-published author you don’t know shit, do you? My dad published three books on fishing. He didn’t sell many, though,” she paused, “mind you, it
was
fishing!”

“How does that work?” asked Carla.

“You’ve got an advantage, you’re already a legacy-published author and so many people loved your book,”

Carla sat, getting more and more excited. She had heard of self-publishing, but always thought it was a risky business. Her heart pounded. “Will you help me? Please... please... please,” she wheedled, like an excited child.

Donna just grinned at her friend, the friend she sometimes wanted to take hold of and shake; the friend she wanted to find a real man for and a real lover. She could see the excitement in her face.
How could I not help her?
She asked herself.

“No!” she said, Carla looked shocked and disappointed, but before she could say anything, Donna continued,

“I know what you’re like at tech stuff. Get your laptop and I’ll do it for you. Look and learn girl. Oh...  and while you’re at it, print me off a copy of your porn version. It’ll be good bed-time reading.”

It took them all morning and most of the afternoon to format and upload it on to the various eBook site’s. They decided to miss out the last chapter altogether and let it finish on a cliff-hanger; as to whether Charlotte lived or died. That way, if Carla ever felt the urge, she could always write a third novel and if she didn’t, then it would just leave the fans wondering.

They put an eBook cover on, after purchasing a picture from Shutterstock and adding the text. Donna set her up an author’s page and a biography, which Carla protested at vociferously when Donna wrote she was allergic to umbrellas. “The fans like something a bit quirky”; Donna had told her. Donna had seen Carla cringe at the mention of umbrellas, but it was something she would just have to deal with; it had gone on way too long. She was also able to put links to her first novel ‘Charlotte’s Dream’ and also links to the first reviews.

She also set up a Twitter account for her, as an author. Carla was absolutely amazed when they checked an hour later; she already had 117 followers. “Just follow ‘em back,” Donna told her and showed her how. She also made her Facebook profile public and soon there was a trickle of friend’s requests. Finally, set her up with her own website on WordPress. “I’ll sort that out later; I know your password. I’ll do it at home.” she informed Carla.

Carla just sat and watched, like an excited child; writing down what Donna told her to do and how to get to the sites. Carla wanted Donna to keep all the passwords, to all the sites, so if she got in trouble Donna would be able to help from her home. They munched on toasted cheese, as they worked through the day and into the early evening.

“You owe me big-time,” Donna told her, as they sat quietly, each with a glass of lager.

“Oh, I know I do,” said Carla elatedly; “I will so make it up to you.”

Donna grinned her most loving smile. “You already have; the look of excitement on your face is worth all of it.”

Carla smiled and kissed her friend,
I owe you more than you could ever imagine, she
told herself.  “Come to Yates, on Saturday night and bring your new fella,” Carla begged, as Donna got up to leave.

“Yea I might just do that; if he hasn’t split me in two by then!”

*              *              *

The flat Darren and Smithy shared would not have been as Carla would have expected. It was normally kept neat and tidy, actually relatively clean. This was mostly down to Smithy, of course. He was two years younger than Darren, at twenty-five. They’d lived in the same street for years in the town of Porthcawl and grew up together. Even when they were younger Smithy was always the responsible one; forever getting Darren out of scrapes and covering up his mischief. He’d often take the blame for things that Darren had done when it would have been much easier to let Darren take the blame. Darren’s parents were a lot stricter than Smithy’s and, therefore, the punishments for his misdemeanours more severe; usually resulting in being grounded, or the stopping of pocket money. Smithy’s parents were soft and often thought a little telling-off would suffice. Both boys only had a younger sister and so they grew up regarding each other as brothers.

Smithy’s real name was Keegan Jones. They all called him Smithy as he resembled the actor who played Smithy off ‘Gavin and Stacey’, the TV series. Even his parents called him Smithy now despite it starting off as a joke. Although a little on the plump side Smithy was a very popular lad, particularly with the teenage girls who seemed to cling to his charm and his wit. He was single and happy to keep it that way although very often he would find one of those smitten teenagers in his bed. Employed as an assistant manager in one of the large High Street departmental stores, he was very popular with the customers and Smithy had a knack of never forgetting a name. He would very often treat those customers as if he knew them personally.

Yes, he was the housekeeper of the two bedroomed flat they shared, very often cleaning up after Darren. Not that Darren was all that dirty; he was just a bit messy and the place would often look like a teenage boy’s bedroom until Smithy sorted it. He didn’t mind doing it, after all, he had been covering up for Darren most of his life.

Smithy was indeed surprised, well shocked, would be a more apt word, when he started dating Carla. He thought she was way out of his league; too high class and posh. He was equally surprised to see that five months later they were still going strong. He did wonder why they didn’t see each other all that often; once, or maybe twice, a week being the norm, but he guessed that was just their basis of a strong relationship. He didn’t quite get what Carla saw in Darren; as nice a bloke as he was, he certainly wasn’t her type, he thought.

*              *              *

Darren had been true to his word and not bothered Carla again after he had gone to her beach house drunk. He was still besotted that she let him make love to her; not that he hadn’t before, but the fact that he just turned up for sex and she had let him, then only for him to leave after. It said to Darren she really did love him and he knew he loved her. This weekend he was going to show her just how much. It was a Friday and they finished work on a Friday early, so he quickly got home and showered and changed; leaving his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, knowing Smithy would later pick them up and put them in the washing basket. Darren didn’t do it deliberately; he really must have thought his clothes took themselves off to the washing basket.

Stepping out of his flat, he was straight onto the High Street of Porthcawl. Porthcawl is a town on the South Coast of Wales. It is situated on a low limestone headland on the South Coast, overlooking the Bristol Channel. Initially, it was developed as a coal port in the nineteenth century. Northwest of the town, in the dunes, known as Kenfig Burrows, are hidden, the last remnants of the town and Kenfig Castle, which were overwhelmed by sand in the fourteen hundred’s. It now houses a large, static, holiday park. Trecco Bay is a large sandy and rocky beach overlooked by caravans and the beach house where Carla Reid now lives.

Sandy Bay is the beach in front of the fairground, which is also known as Coney Beach. Sandy Bay is a popular spot for surfers and every Christmas morning since 1965, hundreds of swimmers brave the waters, in a mid-winter plunge; drawing in thousands of spectators and thousands of pounds for local charities. Smithy and Darren were always two of those swimmers, whereas Carla and her friend’s choice were to watch and donate.

The typical, cloudy, seaside weather had clouded over, but it still felt warm to Darren. Even if there had been a chill in the air, he still would have worn a t-shirt and jeans. He checked out some cash from an ATM. It would leave him skint, but he could always go and visit Mum and Dad, for a sub, if need be. Like an excited child, he entered the store he had been looking for.

*              *              *

Carla arrived at Yates around seven pm. She’d walked along the beach past Coney Beach Fairground and into the town. It was a good forty minute walk, but it was one she enjoyed. The beaches were full of parents and toddlers playing and many people had taken to venturing into the murky waters, as the tide came in. The caravan sites themselves were busy, as people sat outside their holiday homes, eating their tea or drinking a beer. It reminded Carla of the holidays she herself had when they were young. Her father was then a miner before they shut all the pits down and they used to holiday here, during the period they called ‘Miners Fortnight’; the time the pits closed for two weeks and all the mining families ventured on their holidays to Porthcawl. She recalled you had to book up to a year in advance, at that time, if you wanted to holiday during the fortnight; the place used to be packed to the brim. It always brought back great memories. It wasn’t as popular as it once had been but Porthcawl still remained a popular holiday resort in South Wales.

Darren and Smithy were already in Yates surrounded by people, some years younger than them. Darren came over and gave Carla a kiss, which she gratefully accepted and reciprocated. She waved to Smithy and he waved back as the teenagers that surrounded him gave her the glare. Darren ordered her a white wine and soda and they sat at the table adjacent to Smithy and his friends. Whilst they weren’t the type of people she would usually associate with as these were a lot younger than her friends, she didn’t want to deny Darren his friends and she sometimes found Smithy to be funny and charming. She knew if she wanted a change Darren would accommodate her and towards the end of the night they would usually find somewhere quieter.