‘Ring or no ring, she’s still my fiancée, mate.’
Oohh… this dream was getting more interesting every minute.
6
Sometime over the next twenty-four hours it all stopped being quite so funny.
When does a dream become a nightmare? I’d always thought it was when the familiar suddenly becomes strange and threatening; or when you get lost somewhere you thought you knew well; or even when you feel overwhelmed by a feeling of impotence – when you know you’re speaking clearly but no one appears to be listening. And it’s true, a nightmare is all of those things. But my true nightmare began with the realisation that I wasn’t waking up: that somehow, impossibly and unbelievably, this was all really happening.
This realisation didn’t come all at once but slowly pricked away at my conscious with a questioning voice that refused to be quiet. The first indicators to concern me were the continuing and detailed vividness of the dream. There were no strange shifts in time or place; this dream had continuity and even monotony. What dream could I ever recall having before that had incorporated the truly mundane details of day-to-day life? In this one I ate the unappetising hospital meals, I slept (who does that in a dream?), I even visited the bathroom. None of this had any place in a ‘real’ dream.
Of course, when Matt and I had been left alone in my room, after my other visitors had left, I was still happily ensconced in blissful ignorance. I was content to sit back and let events around me unfold like a play. This was just a dream, after all; nothing I did or said had any real consequence.
So I made no protest when Matt drew a chair up close to the bed and entwined his long tanned fingers around mine. I winced slightly as he caught the grazes on my palms, never stopping to think how odd it was to actually experience the sensation of pain in a dream. I let his lips cover mine as he bent to kiss me tenderly, whispering soft and low between kisses how frantically worried he had been about me. And when he eventually pulled back, I could feel my heart fluttering madly against my ribs like a frenzied canary. Well, that wasn’t really a surprise; it had been a long, long time since I’d been kissed like that – either in a dream or wide awake.
What I hadn’t expected after such a display of tenderness was for him draw back and for his tone to turn so quickly to one of censure.
‘Rachel, I have to ask, what the hell were you thinking of, setting off alone from the station and walking down that deserted road? Didn’t you realise the stupid risks you were taking?’
I blinked up at him slowly, caught off guard by the sudden switch in his mood.
‘Why didn’t you phone me to pick you up, or get a cab, or just wait with the other passengers?’
He was looking at me intently. Clearly expecting some coherent reply. I had none.
‘I’m sorry…’ I offered lamely. ‘I don’t remember anything except…’ Except everything that really happened: the dinner, the ride back to my hotel, and then the disastrous visit to the cemetery.
‘Except?’ he prompted hopefully.
‘Except waking up here.’ Even in my dream I was smart enough not to keep on insisting that my reality appeared to be completely different from everyone else’s.
‘And it’s not just about losing the ring, don’t think that – though thank God we had it well insured.’
The ring? Was that what was concerning him, losing the engagement ring? Jeez, Dream Matt was certainly all about the money.
‘You could have been seriously hurt, it could have been so much worse than just cuts and grazes and a bump on the head. When I think of what that guy could have done to you…’
He seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so I nodded slowly as though absorbing the dilemma that my dream persona had apparently brought upon myself.
‘When we got that call, when you cried out for help… well, I’ve never felt so useless in my entire life. Thank God Jimmy was there – and it’s not often you’ll hear me saying that!’
I gave a watery smile in response. Then curiosity to learn more took over.
‘Why, what did he do?’
‘Took charge. I guess it’s his policeman’s training to act like that in an emergency. We were all about to go charging off God-knows-where to find you but he was the one who kept calm and cool and called his police station. He figured you were probably at the railway station or somewhere nearby and got several cars out looking for you before we had even got out of the car park! A squad car found you by the church only ten or fifteen minutes after your call and you were off in the ambulance before we were even halfway there. I guess it pays to have a copper on hand in a crisis.’