The Long Dream

by Serena Summers

http://www.SerenaSummersBooks.com

Copyright 2013 Serena Summers

All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Author's Notes

Chapter One

"Would you like to dance?" were the first words he ever said to me, as we stood on the dance floor on that memorable Christmas Eve. As I looked at him, I was immediately struck by his lovely dark brown eyes which were lustrous and shining, even in the darkness of the nightclub.

It was a slow dance and as he held me, I could feel his strong muscular body next to mine. He was so tall, well over six feet and even in my heels, my head only just reached his shoulder. "I'd love to," I replied.
Wow, this one looks promising!

We ended up chatting all night about our lives, our jobs and just about everything else. It turned out that he still lived at home, had just qualified as an accountant and worked in a local office near to the village where he lived. We both went to the gym and he played football.
A country boy!
It seemed as though we had a lot in common and the conversation flowed easily all evening.

"The first thing I noticed about you was your lovely long blond hair," Paul said.

I thought the name suited him perfectly. "I just adore your big brown eyes," I added.

"Can I give you a lift home?" he offered.

"That would be great, as I'm staying with my parents this weekend," I said gratefully.

As he dropped me off, we exchanged phone numbers, and little did I know that this was the start of the next nineteen years of our lives.

After a few days, I returned to London and to my delight, there was a message on the answer phone from him. I was excited and happy as I rang him back and we arranged our first date. I was smitten with Paul and all I could think of now was him.

We carried on going out together and it was great fun driving around London in his BMW, visiting pubs and restaurants and going dancing again, which we both loved, ending up at my place for passionate nights together. He would get up early in order to drive back down to his office. If I hadn't visited my parents that weekend and gone out to the nightclub I would never have met him. I was sure I was falling for him and thought he must feel the same as we were spending as much time as possible together.

***

Eleven months later, everything suddenly changed overnight.

"Come and see my village where I grew up," Paul said on the phone.

Excitedly, I got ready for what was to become the most momentous night for the two of us. As we drove down, I was floating on a wave of excitement and anticipation. He showed me his primary school, his office, his football club and his home and then after a wonderful afternoon, we drove to a quaint country pub where he'd booked a table.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

Like a bolt from the blue, I was stunned for a moment before I gathered my thoughts. "Yes, of course, I'd love to."

The wine had gone to my head and I thought I would burst with happiness. Everyone was looking at us and lifted their glasses as they realised what was happening. We spent the most romantic night together yet, and the next day was even better when he took me to a jewellers and I chose the most beautiful sapphire and diamond engagement ring! It was just the most heavenly weekend which I will never forget.

Everything went very quickly after our engagement. We started looking for a house in a lovely village near to Paul's parents. I fell in love with it, especially the duck pond in the center of the village, where lived a family of ducks that had the right of way across the road, so the cars had to stop for them.

There were several attractive pubs which served really good food, and we certainly visited them many times on our house hunting trips. There was also a general store, a post office, a newsagent and an off-licence, which would be very useful. The village hall was very pretty and overlooked the cricket green, and there seemed to be plenty of things going on there.

We found a house we particularly liked that had three bedrooms, two if you used one as a dining room. It was semi-detached and built in a mock Tudor style with a huge garden. We managed to get a mortgage and raised the deposit together. Paul had to sell his BMW, but considered it a small sacrifice, in order to get the home we wanted to live in together.

We had a gorgeous wedding in the village church on a bright June day. I wore an ivory silk dress, embroidered at the neckline and hem, and carried a bouquet of pink rosebuds. My two little nieces wore pink taffeta puff sleeved dresses with white sashes and white shoes. Paul looked so handsome in his best navy suit and white silk tie. I was really nervous walking up the aisle with my dad, and my voice sounded tiny as I tried to say my vows. The vicar, Mr Mayfield, was very patient and gave me plenty of time to answer.

It went like a dream and a white Rolls-Royce took us to the reception, which we had in a country house hotel. It was all decorated beautifully in pink and white. The champagne was going to my head as I floated round the room, chatting to everyone. We had over fifty guests and we all enjoyed a four course meal, but I couldn't eat much of it. I was far too excited for eating, and afterwards, we strolled out to the lovely gardens for the photographs.

We had booked the dance floor for the evening, and we would be staying in the hotel for the weekend. Paul and I took to the dance floor for the first slow dance, and then the bar was opened and we all started to party. It was great fun, but by half past ten, we were absolutely shattered. The guests could party on, but we took our leave and went upstairs to our room in the bridal suite.

We collapsed onto the four-poster bed and Paul looked into my eyes. "What a perfect day, it couldn't have gone better. This is the start of the rest of our lives together, and I love you more than ever."

"I love you too and I know we're going to be blissfully happy," I whispered, revelling in the romance of it all. Despite rushing all the arrangements through, it had gone amazingly well and it had been the most perfect wedding in the world.

I commuted to work for a few years and Paul was promoted. We had some wonderful holidays, including a belated honeymoon to Venice which was out of this world. We were at that stage where we started to discuss having a family. We had a good home with a big garden and Paul was earning enough for me to leave work, so I learned to drive and got my first car.

Things kept getting better and better, and we were thrilled when we went on to have two beautiful baby boys. We were madly in love and Paul proved to be a good hardworking husband and a great dad. I thought I was leading a charmed life, safe, secure, and even our babies started to sleep through the night quite early on. Sometimes, I had to ask myself whether it was all too good to be true.

Chapter Two

It was a Sunday morning thirteen years later, one of those warm spring days that made your heart sing. I had developed a keen interest in gardening and was pleased to see the daffodils coming out and the boys were already playing outside.

"I must pop to the office to get some paperwork," Paul suddenly announced.

I was taken aback by this. "Oh, is it really that important? I hoped that we'd spend the day together in the garden."

"Yes, it just can't wait. I've really got to sort something out today," was his reply. With that he quickly left and drove off.

This was a bit disconcerting as Paul had never worked on a Sunday before, so I went into the garden and carried on as best I could. I thought that he wouldn't be very long so decided not to worry too much.

By one o'clock we were all hungry, so I made a brunch for me and the boys, thinking that we'd have dinner with Paul when he got back later. At three, I decided to ring the office, but strangely, there was no reply. I felt a small twinge of fear go through me, but then it occurred to me that he must be on his way back. I relaxed again and carried on gardening and the boys didn't seem unduly concerned.

"Where's dad, why hasn't he come home yet," cried Jamie as he ran over towards me.

Ben came running after him, and I realised that I just wasn't sure what to say to them. "I'll just check the time," I shouted as I ran indoors, panicking slightly.

It was half past three. I snatched the phone and dialled his parent's number, thinking that he must have popped in to see them on his way back. I didn't want to worry them, so I tried to sound as casual as possible and asked if they'd seen him today, but no, they hadn't. I assured them that everything was okay and explained that Paul had to pop into the office earlier to get some important papers, and I was sure he was heading back. They seemed satisfied with that, so I ended the call.

By seven o'clock I was seriously worried, but desperately trying not to show it. I fed the boys, bathed them and put them to bed as usual and got their uniforms ready for school the next day. I tried ringing the office again, just in case, but no luck. There were no mobile phones back then, so there was just no way of finding Paul.
God! What the hell was going on? How dare he leave me in this limbo?
I sat down on the sofa, totally exasperated, tired of dreaming up every scenario that could have happened. I switched on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract myself, it worked and I found myself gradually dozing off.

***

Half past nine! I awoke with a start and immediately rushed to the window to see if Paul's car was there. It wasn't. I raced around all the rooms in the house and even the garden, but there was no trace of him.
What about the garage?
I rushed out the back and round to the side door, but it was empty. Panic started to rise in me and I felt like screaming but I daren't wake the boys. I had to stay calm somehow, so I got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table, feeling so alone and helpless, not knowing what to do next.

It was five to ten and I decided to lock the back door, switch off the TV and have a bath. Surely, that would relax me enough so I could work something out. I made my way to the back of the conservatory when I suddenly noticed the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under the mat. I pulled it out and found myself holding an envelope with my name on it in Paul's handwriting. My hands were shaking as I tore it open and pulled out the letter.

I love you. This is the only way. Paul.

It made no sense to me at all. I stared and stared at it until my eyes were blurred with tears and a huge sense of foreboding washed over me.
What was the only way? The only way to do what? Why would he write such an enigmatic letter? What was he actually trying to tell me?

I suddenly felt an urgent need to act, to do something. I dropped the letter, grabbed my keys and dashed out of the front door. He must be waiting somewhere, sitting alone in the dark just thinking what to do next. It must be a cry for help. If I could only find him, it would be all right again. I could bring him home and get to the bottom of this, whatever it was.

That was my mission as I ran all over the village, first down to the station, then along to the shop, the post office and the church opposite. Everywhere was deserted and silent on this moonless Sunday night. All I could hear were my own footsteps crashing down and my tears were blinding me, but I had to go on until I had searched every possible place he could be hiding. I had no idea what, but something terrible was happening to Paul. I longed to see him and to talk to him, I was sure we could sort this out, whatever it was.

Suddenly, I realised I'd come full circle and was on the home straight. I reached the front door and found I had left it ajar and as I went in, I listened intently for any sounds of movement, but there were none. I noticed the letter lying on the carpet, so I grabbed it and stared hard at it again, feeling sure I had not understood its' full meaning, which would now come to light. My heart was banging loudly in my ears and my stomach was knotted up with anxiety, but nothing came to me.

Was Paul hurt somewhere? Had he been in a terrible accident, lying alone by the side of the road? Had he suffered a mental breakdown and be wandering around, not remembering the way home?
I was completely exhausted as I collapsed onto the sofa. My head was spinning and my eyelids were so heavy that I had to close my eyes, which were wet and sticky and my hair was stuck to my head. I must have been sweating as I'd been running around for hours.

***

I came to with a jolt and it all came flooding back to me. I jumped up and ran to the window. I peered through the gloom at the drive, praying for Paul's car to be there, but it wasn't.
Oh no! He's still not back.
There was still no sound, except for the clock ticking on the mantelpiece.
What was the time?
Ten to four! I had actually slept for at least four hours. I had to check all the rooms again and crept upstairs to our bedroom first only to find the bed empty, as were all the other rooms. I was so relieved that the boys were still asleep and knew nothing of my ordeal.