The School Of Dreams

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Book Excerpt

Chapter One

Sophie

“Kids, breakfast is nearly ready.” Sophie stood at the bottom of the winding staircase and yelled.  Hopefully her voice would carry into their bedrooms and over the hum and drone of TVs and X-Boxes.  A few minutes later there was a clatter from upstairs, doors opening, feet stomping, and then twin boys tore into the kitchen swinging their school bags high above their heads.

“What’s for breakfast Mom?”  Asked eight-year-old Jake.

“Can I have orange juice?”  Josh demanded at the same time.

“Eggs and soldiers Jake and yes Josh, there’s orange on the table.”  Sophie pulled her silk dressing gown tighter around her, then continued flicking the egg yolks with bubbling water.

“Is your dad up yet?”  She asked, without looking around.

“Dunno,” said Josh as he poured juice into a Monsters Inc. plastic beaker.  Sophie sighed. Ryan O’Neill, her husband of ten years, was a lazy good for nothing, she thought sourly.  Last night he had promised he would be the one to get up this morning and see to the boys, so she could have a lie in.  Yet here she was, in the kitchen again. Thank god the cleaner was coming in half an hour.  She could tidy up the breakfast things and put the washing in, plus there was a mountain of ironing to be done.  Sophie yawned, it had been a heavy night last night.  They had entertained friends and after a three-course meal, courtesy of ‘Spice of India’, they had partied until two o’clock.

            That’s when Ryan had promised to do more with the boys, a drunken declaration in front of friends.  Sophie knew she had been nagging him a lot these past couple of weeks, but sometimes she felt like a single parent.  Today was no exception.  The eggs hissed in the pan and Sophie transferred them to slices of overcooked toast, then set them down in front of the boys.  She shuffled into the large utility room searching around in the medicine cabinet for Alka-Seltzer; she needed something to settle her stomach sharpish.  Her mouth felt dry and her head was pounding.  Too many bottles of Chardonnay were overturned in the sink; she looked at them with a grimace.  Hadn’t that been her New Year’s resolution, to cut down on the booze?  January seemed a long time ago now though.  It was July, warm and sticky already and it was only seven thirty in the morning.  Sophie thought about what she could wear today.  It was the twin’s sports day, she wanted to be cool but classy.  She swallowed down the Alka-Seltzer, then padded back into the kitchen.  Josh had turned on the TV; Cartoon Network blared out, making her pounding head feel even worse.

“Mom, can I have jam sandwiches?”  Asked Jake, between mouthfuls of runny egg.  Sophie nodded and grunted a reply.  She peered into the cupboard and extracted a half open loaf of bread.  Food shopping was also on the agenda today, a trip to Waitrose was required to replenish the fridge.  Although she herself ate little and was currently on the cabbage water diet, where she had successfully lost seven pounds off her petite, size ten frame,  Josh, Jake and Ryan however, were forever snacking.  Sophie opened the huge American style fridge, taking out margarine and a large pot of supermarket best brand jam.  She smeared it on the bread, generously thick, then searched in the cupboard for lunchtime snacks.

“Boys, have you done your homework?”  No reply, eyes were fixated on the TV

“Boys,” Sophie yelled.  They turned to look at her quizzically, so she had to repeat the question.  Still no reply.

“So you haven’t then,” she paused, while two heads shook in unison.

“Well what’s Miss Marshall going to say now,” Sophie sighed. That would be another phone call home from the head teacher.  She ran through a list of excuses and couldn’t think of any that were plausible.  She could try flirting with the Head; she had learnt from experience that men were suckers for flattery and a whiny voice.  But Miss Marshall, well she was a different kettle of fish.  At the last parents evening, Sophie had been intimidated by the older woman with the stern voice and the piercing eyes.  God knows how the kids found her.  Although Sophie had to admit that her twin’s boisterous behaviour had certainly calmed down since they had been in her class.

“You both need to read now,” Sophie decided.  Josh and Jake pulled faces at their mother but obediently rummaged in sturdy school bags for their reading books.  Thank god it was nearly the end of term, Sophie thought as she scribbled her signature in their reading diaries. 

            While they read above the din of the TV, Sophie listened distractedly, rubbing her head with one hand and her stomach with the other.  Truthfully, she felt awful and wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and shove Ryan O’Neill out.

“Okay, that’s enough boys,” she snapped irritably.  Their attention was immediately back on the gigantic screen and Sophie felt a pang of guilt. Hangovers and young children were not a good combination; they made her bad tempered for the whole day and tested her patience considerably.  No more drinking, she thought firmly as she fetched the dirty plates, plonking them in the sink with a clatter, and then made her way sluggishly up the winding staircase, to her bedroom.  On the way she caught sight of herself in the mirror and grimaced. God, she looked awful. Her normally immaculate straight hair had balled into a fluffy mess and last night’s make up was crusting on her eyes and cheeks.  Spots! She thought with a silent wail.  She could hear the sound of heavy breathing and snoring emanating from the bedroom.  Her darling husband was lying in the bed, sprawled on his back, with his face turned up towards the ceiling.  Sophie snapped on the light, then pulled the wardrobe doors open with a bang.  There was a rustling and squeaking from the bed.  As she searched through her hanging clothes, he sat up.

“Huh, what time is it?”  Ryan O’Neill croaked. 

“Seven thirty,” Sophie snapped, without turning around.  Finally, she decided on something to wear, a polka dot playsuit, which would look good when teamed with her new blue wedges.  She laid it on the bed, then searched in her dresser for suitable matching underwear.

“Got a bad head have ya?” Sophie asked, then without waiting for a response continued, “I told you not to start on the whisky.”

Ryan groaned and fell back on plump, feather pillows.

“How many bottles of wine did you and Clara polish off then?” He retaliated.

“Well I can take my alcohol, unlike some,” she sniffed, “and it doesn’t stop me having to get up at seven o’clock with the boys.  Angrily, she flung lacy bra and pants on the bed, then stormed into their en suite, to turn on the power shower.  It rumbled to life, spraying her arm with cold water, making her jump.  Sophie flung her dressing gown on the floor in a heap, then stepped gingerly into the shower cubicle.  As she exfoliated, she could hear Ryan’s deep snores again.  Unbelievable that he could sleep so easily.  Sophie herself, suffered from bouts of insomnia, which improved with the help of alcohol.  Maybe she shouldn’t cut out alcohol completely, she surmised.  She washed her hair quickly. She would be taking the kids to school in about forty minutes which meant no time to straighten it; another reason to heighten her bad mood!  Sophie snapped off the water and then wrapped herself in a luxurious, fluffy bath sheet before brushing her teeth.  She examined her mouth in the steamy mirror. Her teeth were looking a bit off colour, even though she used whitening toothpaste. Maybe she should have them professionally whitened. Mentally, she added this to her to do list. 

“What’s for breakfast?” A voice behind startled her. She watched Ryan’s reflection as he staggered to the toilet.

“Whatever you want to make yourself,” she replied crisply, “there’s eggs, sausage, cereal, toast...”

Ryan flushed the chain, “What time is Helga coming?”

“She should be here for nine, why?”

“I’ll ask her to rustle me up a cooked breakfast.”

Sophie tutted, shook her head and spat out the minty toothpaste.  Helga was their fifty-four-year-old housekeeper, cum general dogsbody.  Although it wasn’t in her job description to cook for the O’Neill clan exactly, Sophie doubted that she would be able to resist the Irish charm.  Ryan knew exactly how to turn it on, to his advantage and there were not many people who were immune to it; herself included.  He wound strong arms around his wife and nuzzled her neck.  Sophie sighed and stifled a giggle. She was supposed to be mad at her husband, but it was hard to be, when he knew, from years of exploration, where her erogenous zone was!

            She playfully slapped his hands away, “have you got footy practise today?”  Ryan groaned and nodded.

“Do I have to go?”

“Well you’d better if you don’t want Coach Jones on your case.”

Ryan was a professional football player.  As a young boy he had been football crazy, spending all his spare time with a ball at his feet.  Academically he flagged behind his peers, but at sports he excelled.  He found school overall to be boring and unstimulating.  He was happiest having a kick about with friends in the park.  At the tender age of twelve, he had been scouted by a large, well known Midlands football team.  He had joined the academy and had never looked back since.  Now he was twenty-eight, in his prime and adored by thousands.  Men and women jostled for his autograph as soon as he stepped out of the front door, he had his own aftershave range and a calendar shoot, which had been extremely popular, resulting in millions of pounds’ worth of sales.  He was certainly riding the crest of a wave in the popularity stakes at the moment, and Sophie hoped and prayed that it may continue.

            She had known him since school.  At the age of sixteen, after months of wooing, she had succumbed to his Irish charm and dark, Gaelic good looks.  Over the years, they had dated and she had fallen deeply in love with him.  When they were nineteen, they had splashed out on a trip to Hawaii, where surrounded by friends and family, they had married.  Twelve months later, the twins had blessed their life.  Now, here they were in a sprawling eight-bedroom mansion, with two dogs and three cats to add to their entourage.  Sophie struggled into her expensive underwear.  It had been a Christmas present from Ryan.  Although the pants fit snugly, the bra was a cup size too tight.  Since when had she been a ‘C’ cup she thought with a flicker of annoyance? – maybe before the twins had been born when she was skinny – but that had been years ago. These days, pregnancy and breast feeding had accentuated her curves to a ‘D’ cup much to her delight. 

“Can you make sports day?” Sophie asked expectantly. 

Ryan shook his head, “no can do babe,” he retorted, as he clambered back into bed, “footy practise, physio and then team lunch.  I won’t be home until later this afternoon.”

Sophie sighed, “okay fine, I’ll go alone...again.”  She stepped into her cotton playsuit, pulling it up quickly, then searched in her wardrobe for her wedges.  A quick blast of the hairdryer and she was nearly ready.  She perched at her dressing room table and smothered on her makeup.

“Mom’s coming for dinner tonight.”

She heard Ryan groan in response, “and don’t wind her up!”  She snapped.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour for sure,” Ryan replied cheekily, as he pulled back the duvet slightly to reveal a large erection.   “Sure you can’t come back for a bit?”

Sophie grinned and peered at his naked frame.  As well as being footy mad, Ryan was also sex mad.  Her friends thought that she was dead lucky, but sometimes Ryan’s pestering became tiresome.  Just lately she had been more tired than usual after a day running around after the kids and the animals. Her libido was in sleep mode.  And some nights, even Irish charm could not kick start it.  Sophie worried about refusing him though, especially as there was a plethora of eyelash fluttering groupies hanging around at the club.  She knew that being a footballer also bought attention from hordes of females who would be only too happy to jump into bed with her charming, handsome husband. 

“Maybe later,” she said with a sultry smile.  She grabbed her Gucci handbag and blew him a kiss.

“See ya later honey, have a good day.”

Ryan grumbled in response, burying himself back under the duvet.  Sophie clattered down the stairs, calling Josh and Jake.  They raced into the hallway like two whirlwinds.

“Have you got your bags and lunches?” she hollered, above their enthusiastic singing.  A few minutes later, they were yelling goodbye to their dad and charging outside into the sunshine.

            The school run was hectic as usual.  Sophie weaved her four by four around parked cars, looking for a big enough space.  She cursed as a BMW manoeuvred into a space directly in front of her. Sophie honked her horn and was answered by a rude, two fingered salute. 

“We’ll have to go down the side street and walk,” she informed the boys, as she turned down the volume on the radio.  They groaned in protest. 

“Look,” she said annoyed, “I had to walk everywhere when I was your age, it’ll do you good.”

“Get rid of some of that energy,” she muttered under her breath.  Josh and Jake charged up the street, pretending they were Power Rangers, swinging their lunch boxes high above their heads.  Sophie lagged behind, breathless and panting.  I really must stop smoking, she thought with a grimace.  They reached the lollipop lady just in time, she beckoned them over with a grin and a wave.

“Hi Jill,” Sophie panted.

“Hi Soph, how’s your Ryan?”

“Good thanks,” Sophie called, hurrying past.

The school gates were busy, teeming with children and harassed looking parents.  The bell rang out shrilly, just in time!  Sophie kissed her boys, waving as they skipped up the driveway.  She breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging, then turned back to cross the busy main road. 

            Sophie had timed it just right. A flying visit to Waitrose, back home to unpack and she was back at the school gates for eleven o’clock.  As she stepped outside her chilled four by four, the heat hit her with a rush.  She snapped her sunglasses on, rubbed lip-gloss off her teeth and marched towards the school, swaying her hips.  A dusty white van passed, slowing down to reveal two dusty looking youths who wolf whistled at her.  Sophie smiled slightly, revelling in the unexpected male attention.  I’ve still got it, she thought, tossing her hair back, even though it was so politically incorrect to admit she liked the attention of workmen.  

“Woo hoo.” Standing on the opposite side of the road, waving enthusiastically was Sophie’s friend Amber.  Amber was two years older than Sophie, tall and elegant looking with a mane of luminous, dark brown, cascading hair. She had one child who was in the same class as Josh and Jake called Angel, who was anything but.  Her husband was a bank manager and they were absolutely loaded. 

“Hi Soph,” she gushed, air kissing both cheeks.  Sophie smiled, “hi,” she replied warmly. 

“Are you excited about the sports day? I am. Angel has been practising races all weekend at home, I’m exhausted.”  Sophie looked in surprise. Josh was too laid back to be competitive and Jake was too interested in his x-box and computer games to worry about sports day. 

“It should be fun,” agreed Sophie politely.

“I’ve got a new camcorder, so I can record Josh and Jake if you want me to.”  Amber waved an ultra slim, state of the art contraption.

“Oh that’s a great idea,” Sophie replied, trying to create a sense of enthusiasm.  She doubted whether Ryan would have the time or inclination to watch hours of blurred footage of hundreds of over excited school children.  They made their way through the jostling crowds onto the school field, where an army of parents had set up camp behind the partition.

“Excuse me,” Amber said with a derisory curl of her lip.  A windswept man in front moved a fraction to his left, giving Amber the opportunity to shove her video recorder into the gap.

“This is one of Angel’s,” she informed Sophie with a proud grin.  Sophie stood on tiptoe so she could watch six eight year olds line up obediently with plastic eggs and shiny dessert spoons.  Thank goodness Josh and Jake were not participating in this one!  It would definitely be a designer hand bags at dawn saga.  Sophie relaxed and popped a mint humbug in her mouth.

“Come on Angel,” shouted Amber.  Sophie waved in half-hearted support.  Although she was fond of Amber, her daughter left a lot to be desired.  Ryan called her the rich imp from over the bridge.  Of course Sophie remonstrated, but secretly agreed.  To look at her, she was certainly angelic; a round cherubic, rosy face, framed with golden ringlets and huge sapphire blue eyes.  Her personality, however, was certainly devilish and that was being polite.  During the reception and year one phase, Amber had been called by the head teacher on an almost weekly basis.  ‘Angel’, had stolen from other children’s bags, bullied her peers for money, cut two girls’ ponytails off and called the chief dinner lady a fat frustrated bitch!  She was certainly articulate, if nothing else, Sophie thought ruefully.  She almost felt sorry for her teacher, Miss Marshall, bet she just loved inclusion!