Telling Dreams Read online

  Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,

  Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?

  Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!

  Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don.

  I swung round and round, spinning and spinning in a full circle and trying desperately to see who could be there and where. Were they hiding behind a tree or to the left, to the right, in front of me, maybe behind me? But I could see no living person there nor hear the tread of any other foot but my own.

  I looked ahead, walked on and found myself in a clearing. The mist had lifted and I could hear a blackbird chirp merrily above me. Thank God: something normal at last! Then I spotted the wooden chalet. A light was burning in the window and I walked swiftly towards it, wanting to find someone to help me find my way back home. I didn’t want to stay here any longer. I didn’t want to ever come here again.

  I found the door open and walked in regardless of any danger. Surely this sign of life had to be better than the journey here through that forest.

  The room I entered was furnished in an old- fashioned style with two high- backed chairs before the fire, a table covered with a red velvet cloth and solid wooden carvers around it. There was a sideboard on which stood brass candelabra of two dragons, standing back to back. I made a mental picture of them for some obscure reason. There were candles, burnt low and left cold in the heads of the mythical beasts. I found myself touching the blackened wicks as if to be sure. The room was well carpeted and a wood fire burned welcomingly in the grate. The light I had seen was from a pretty oil lamp; it could have been electric I wasn’t sure, but it sat on a roll- topped mahogany writing desk by the window. I walked over to the fire and turned around to see the door closing behind me; yet no one else had entered the chalet. I felt the perspiration break out on my forehead and under my arms. I was scared again. I was more scared now than before.

  Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques,

  Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?

  Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!

  Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don.

  It was sung louder this time and the tone had changed to a demand. On and on it went – just those few words of that well known song, chosen for school children at French lessons. I covered my ears, desperate to be out of this weird world and I cried out ‘Stop it! Stop it! Whoever you are, for heaven’s sake, stop!’ I was spinning, spinning around. I could see the room now like a reflection in the back of a spoon or a round lamp shade. This could not be real, I said to myself. This must surely be drug induced…

  I woke up. Thank God for it! My nightshirt clung damp to my body. I switched on the bedside light. Was that just a dream, a nightmare? I listened to the sound of the rain falling outside my open window and cars streaming through the puddles up and down the road. I had never appreciated living on a main road as much as I did now. The sound of normality calmed me. I got up and made tea. I didn’t go back to bed, fearing sleep now and the return to that strange place. I watched the handles of the clock reach 6 am and heard the first bird song and then wearily got up to shower and dress for work.

  But that was merely the beginning of it; the dreaming that seemed to overlap into waking life. I little knew it but I was on the road to something unfathomable.

  Chapter 4

  A week went by during which I had the same dream on two consecutive nights and then a respite.

  I had just got home from work and was trying to find something quick and microwaveable to eat, when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  Daniel stood there, clutching a big bunch of bright, red roses.

  ‘Louisa?’ his eyes searched mine for reassurance, for some kind of response.

  I am seldom speechless, but I was then.

  ‘Can I at least come in?’

  ‘Of course.’ I stepped back out of the doorway to allow him in.

  ‘Did you get my letter?’ He said, presenting me with the flowers.

  ‘They’re lovely, thank you. Yes. Yes Daniel I did. Come and sit down. Have you eaten? Some wine?’ I lead him to the settee, quickly clearing away my pile of ironing.

  He smiled that slightly crooked but bewitching smile.

  I walked quickly into the kitchen to find a vase and restore some semblance of self- control before re-joining him. I had my pride. But the instant throb of desire that rose up at first sight of him standing there, and in my doorway, made me fearful of myself. I rejoined him, feeling calmer.

  ‘I’d love some wine. Shall I do the honours?’

  He rose and walked to the sideboard and helped himself to the corkscrew on the tray, opened a bottle of wine and poured out two glasses ready for us.

  ‘Don’t let me stop you from eating’ he said handing me a glass.

  ‘It can wait. Really.’ I replied.

  We sat down together.

  ‘I owe you an explanation, love. Mr Robson, for reasons I cannot divulge, has the first call on my time and he had summoned me away. I really had no choice but to leave. Shame, because I was impressed by the scenery.’

  He laughed teasingly, took my glass and put it down with his on the coffee table.

  He took me in his arms and kissed me again. I knew where this could quickly lead me and pulled myself away.

  ‘Sorry Daniel, but…’

  ‘You’re angry. I understand ‘he took up his wine and sipped at it.

  ‘Have you any tonic? To be honest, I would prefer it.’

  ‘Sorry no. Would lemon and lime do?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  I rose to fetch a glass and he grabbed my wrist

  ‘Louisa. Don’t give up on me. I didn’t come just to have sex with you. You mean more than that. You must have realised that after that night together, surely?

  I looked away from him unable to speak, fearful of giving myself away.

  I fetched the glass and shakily filled it with some lemonade and lime from the refrigerator.

  ‘Who is Mr Robson then? He is obviously much more important’, I began on my return to the living room. I sat back down and presented him with the glass which he put down instantly.

  Then he took my face between his hands and looked deeply into my eyes.

  ‘Louisa. I need you to try and understand and be patient. One day soon I will be able to tell you all about Mr Robson and his demands, but for now..’

  ‘Okay’ I got up realising how easily I could have succumbed to his charms.

  As coldly as I could, I opened the front door of the flat and gestured to him to leave.

  He rose from his seat and asked,’ is this how we both want it to be? I know what I want. I want you. Not now, but one day for always, Louisa. I will go, as you have said. But you do want me to come back –just say that before I leave.’

  My legs felt like jelly beneath me and my heart drummed inside my chest so much that I feared he could hear it standing there, so close to me.

  ‘I feel the same, yes. But let me in Daniel more than that. And let me know when you are planning to come and when you must go. That’s all I ask for now. I cannot cope with more hurt in my life.’

  He pulled me towards him and held me tightly in his arms.

  ‘I recognised that in you straight away. I too have known the hurt that love can bring. Or what we think of as love. Darling Louisa, I know we will be together. I’ll go for now and I’ll ring first next time, eh?’

  The scent of his skin was almost unbearably erotic to me. I longed for him to stay but I didn’t trust myself.

  He turned to go.

  ‘Daniel! I called out ‘my phone no?’

  He looked back smiling again’ How do you think I got your address? That lovely Aunt of yours, she knows a thing or two about love.’

  I laughed with relief but I was too close to tears and closing the door on him, remarked as lightly as I could,’ I shall have to have words with her!’

  I heard his light step as he descended the stairway and closed the door of the building behind him. I rushed to the window and waved. He
raised his thumb to me in acceptance and walked away around the corner.

  What was I to make of all of this? Was he playing a game with me? I desired him without any doubt and he desired me. But did I want just sex? Did I love him then? I knew that he awoke tenderness in me that I thought I had lost, but love? How could you love someone you didn’t even know? It was time to visit aunt.

  Aunt owed me some explanations, bless her heart!

  We were sitting in her sparsely furnished, living room. Uncle had left her so little. On her small mantelpiece, she had three black and white photos resting there, not even framed. The gas fire below was making them curl at the edges. I had offered to buy some frames but she had said she was quite happy to see them age along with her. They were of uncle of course with her late son, one of her long-departed daughter and her remaining child, her son Peter, who lived in the West Country and had been recently bereaved.

  ‘How are you now, darling?’ I began.

  ‘He’s been round to see you, hasn’t he?’ she said excitedly.

  ‘You should know, minx!’

  ‘Lou, he’s so nice! And I can feel the chemistry between you. What have I been telling you all this time? Take hold of life, grab it by the hands, don’t let any happiness escape. Don’t question everything. Just enjoy it!’

  I tutted and smiled to reassure her.

  ‘I am the epitome of tolerance, dear girl. Why do you think I turned a blind eye and stayed with Ron? Because despite everything. I always loved him. I do know a thing or two about love. We all think it will be stay as strong as it began and that it can conquer all. We are driven by our sexuality when young and we women can never separate the two. We think love is powerful like a magic wand to wave over all the problems that we chose not to see coming ahead of us. It isn’t. It is never unconditional either, any more than parental love. Parents love their children not just out of kinship. They have expectations of them. They play as many games as lovers do. Didn’t some famous person add the rhetorical question ‘whatever love is, at his engagement? What timing! But how honest of him, how very brave. But I ramble so…’

  ‘Aunt, I don’t seem to know what I want anymore,’ I confessed.

  ‘I know. You’re unsure, confused. But love, feeling and giving of love is essential for well- being. Just take what comes your way and see if it grows. Don’t expect too much too soon. Sex, yes. You can throw yourselves into that easily and why not? Love is much harder and to be as honest about its enigma as that man was, well, in the end it has to be worth all the effort. Why else are we all here?’

  I looked at her askance.

  ‘Yes. That may surprise you. But when I look around at those ambitious friends who never married or really tried to make their marriage work, I ask myself the question- which of us had the better deal? I think I did. No, it wasn’t perfect but there were wonderful moments to treasure and three wonderful children. What else would I have done with this life given to me and what would it have amounted to?’

  ‘I think I love him but…’

  ‘Oh, there is always but,’ she interrupted me.’ Be off with ‘but’, Lou. Just take him as he is for now. I liked him. I liked him straightaway and I trust my instincts. He isn’t playing games. I think he is as genuine as he can be. Now let’s stop and have some tea. I made a lovely Victoria sponge, thinking you might come round,’ she grinned and went to fetch her cake tin and put the kettle on.

  I returned to the flat having taken a meal with Aunt and seen her safely settled.

  I was still worried about her health and determined to be more mindful of her.

  I had a good soak in the bath and played some relaxing music. Brian Ferry’s – ‘Avalon’.

  I read my book for a while and then felt a wave of sleepiness cloud the words. I put the book aside and slid back under the duvet ready for the night.

  That night I dreamt that same dream again. But this time there was a difference.

  This time I wasn’t alone when I reached the chalet.

  I was back in the wood. I could smell those pine trees again. Yet like so many recurring dreams, it was as if this was the first dream ever. I had no recall of a previous visit there. I found the chalet. I touched the cold wax of the candle ends in the dragon candelabra. The singing began, soft then louder. I turned to spin, covering my ears, round and round I turned but this time I stopped. A figure was sitting in the chair by the fire. He didn’t speak but turned his body around slowly, purposefully, in his seat and looked directly at me. It was a look of such viciousness. Such evil intent. I woke up. I was damp again with perspiration.

  But why? Why was I dreaming such things?

  What could it mean?

  For in this dream it was no other than Mr Robson sitting there.

  Chapter 5

  That weekend, Daniel rang and we arranged to meet to go and see the latest James Bond film and have a meal afterwards. He didn’t seem too interested in the film and I was surprised at his suggesting an action movie, He bought me popcorn and we held hands and shared a kiss or two. It was good to feel his warm sinewy thigh tight against mine and his hand holding mine.

  We dined at an Italian restaurant and the wine he chose was a good year and expensive.

  After we had eaten, we held hands across the table and I lost myself in those big, brown, bottomless pools of his eyes.

  ‘I couldn’t find a good film on,’ he explained as if he had read my mind.’ But I wanted so much to see you and find somewhere to go where you wouldn’t feel ‘threatened’ in anyway. Safe ground! I hope the meal has made up for it.’

  ‘Of course, silly. You should come round and watch some dvd’s of mine. I have a fine collection – Truffaut?’ He nodded at this shared taste and encouraged, I went on, ‘ and I have some wonderful classics and even Schofield’s King Lear.’

  ‘You mean it, Louisa? You aren’t just being polite? I can come round?’

  ‘Whenever you are free.. except Tuesday’s. Tuesday’s is Aunt’s-we usually play gin rummy and talk. She’s a better mother to me than my own, to be perfectly frank.’

  ‘Be grateful you have both!’ was the quick rejoinder.

  I stopped and waited. hoping that he would tell me more and he did.

  His mother had died shortly after his younger brother was born. She had been sent home with him in her arms only to suffer a thrombosis. It was totally unexpected and nothing could have been done. His father took charge of the baby. Daniel was sent to a boarding school outside Paris and then they moved to England and he went to Cambridge where he gained a fairly good degree in History.

  ‘So, where does Mr Robson come into all this?’ I quickly took the opportunity to keep him talking. Maybe the wine was helping, although he was still on his first glass.

  He put the glass down and poured me another. Then he poured himself some water from the jug.

  ‘Mr Robson was my father’s closest friend and business colleague.’

  ‘Is your father still alive?’

  He put the glass down suddenly and looked straight at me as if needing to see my reaction.

  ‘My father committed suicide, two years ago now.’

  I sat back in some surprise ‘I know it sounds banal, but I am sorry to hear it Daniel. Really I am,’ were the first words I could summon, feeling a sharp ache inside. He looked away and I knew instinctively the pain telling me this had caused.

  He looked back up at me as if resolved in thought, taking my wine glass away, he clasped my hands in his again.

  ‘Yes. He had a disastrous business deal and couldn’t handle it. I met Mr Robson properly at the funeral. He has been sorting Pa’s estate for me and I find him,’ he hesitated here, and didn’t look straight at me, as if trying to find the words- ‘an interesting man.’

  He looked back down at the red and white table cloth. I felt sure he was hiding something further.

  ‘I see. We can always talk about something else.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I inherited my Father�
��s title. You hold the hands of a Count!’

  ‘Really?’ I laughed and playfully let go of them. ‘Aristocratic blood sitting opposite me! So what did your history degree conclude about the Bloody Revolution?’

  ‘That it was too long ago to worry about! I did History because I couldn’t get into Art! Never fear, I have no intention of using the title nor does the Chateau interest me in the least! It’s falling into rack and ruin actually. Mr Robson is still trying to sell it for me. Developers perhaps will want to turn it into apartments.’

  ‘A chateau! Wow! Do you remember much of it?’

  ‘No, Papa and I didn’t stop there long after my Mother died. I can only remember long corridors, damp, and draughts from every corner!’

  ‘What a shame! It sounds romantic.’

  He smiled at me and replied,’ you don’t need a chateau for romance. Your apartment would do fine! Has Madam finished her wine?’ ‘Waiter!’ he called across, paid the bill and clutching another bottle of wine –just for me he said-walking arm in arm, we left the restaurant, hailed a taxi and spent another wonderful night in one another’s’ arms.

  The dream did not recur for another ten days. I now found myself diarising when it did occur.

  On a Saturday, we spent the day at a zoo and laughed together at the animal antics. He teased me, saying we might take some ideas from them. How could I mind any teasing from him? I was so deeply in love by then. I didn’t care. I would do anything to keep him beside me for however long it lasted.

  Our next meeting was at a local art gallery. He painted portraits and declared he would try and capture me one day soon. I had never felt happier. Then he had to go away with Mr Robson ‘on business’ he said and I didn’t see him for more than two weeks.

  The dream was exactly the same and once more I didn’t realise it was recurring until I had awoken in the usual perspiring state.

  I had reached the Chalet. Mr Robson turned around to find me there. This time he spoke to me, his voice clipped, acidic- ‘you just have to come, don’t you, Louisa?’ As he was sitting there, I felt his menace pierce through my being. He raised one eyebrow and smiled knowingly. I spun round and round then, with the words of the French songstress growing louder and louder in my ears until I clamped my hands over them, begging it to cease. The song was no lullaby. It now sounded demanding. But of what and why? So far, I always awoke at this point. But only so far.