In Dreams Ch. 02

"And that's got to be Mini and Toto." Sylvia was saying as I entered the room.

"And the one on the right, is Ottilie and me together at the fun fair." I volunteered (loudly) as quickly as I could. Making them all start, by the way.

But in my mind, I was wondering exactly what Percy had told Ottilie about the two young women in her dream. It had dawned on me by then, that by whatever means those weird dreams had been created in our minds, they were proving to be uncannily accurate in their... er details.

Well, mine were anyway. All four women were the image of the people I'd dreamed about, so much so that I felt I knew my daughter Tara even better than I did her mother. Which was going to prove confusing to the child over the following weeks.

The confusion started for her that day, when I carried Ottilie and Sylvia's cases upstairs to show them to their rooms. Tara and Kate had gone up first carrying their own luggage and I directed Tara into the first room on the right, describing it as Tara's room.

"I thought you said that they could choose what room they wanted to use?" Maud commented.

"They can Maud, and Tara did choose that room!"

"But they've never been here before."

"Trust me Maud. Maybe Tara hasn't, but her presence has. That's the room Tara will prefer." I said reaching the landing myself. "Kate, there're two beds in there; you can share or pick a room of your own.

Kate grinned and said that she'd share, if Tara didn't mind.

Whether Tara realised what I had been implying or not; I'm not sure. But she looked back at me and asked, "What bed did I prefer then, father?"

"The one by the window Tara. You can see Quiet Times from there when she's on her mornings. And it's dad, okay?"

"You're the boss... Dad!" She grinned and threw herself onto the bed.

"Did we choose rooms?" Ottilie asked.

"No sweetheart. You were unconscious and Sylvia has never been here before."

"Which is your room, Taylor?" Ottilie asked with a strange expression her face.

"Third on the right!"

"Okay, I'll take the one opposite. Not so far to move."

I ignored the comment and placed Ottilie's case in said room. Sylvia decided to take the room between the children and mine. Mainly I think because it had a double bed and she implied that her husband Mark would be coming down to visit that weekend. She kind of hinted that she'd have to think about getting back up country before the school year started.

I left the ladies to sort their beds, with Maud's assistance. Remember those rooms although fully furnished and equipped had never been used in anger. Maud Clegg had had some fun seeing to that over the years, buying most of the soft furnishings and stuff when she saw them on special offer somewhere.

I took a shower and changed. Undertook an operation that took surprisingly longer than I expected it would, or remembered. And one which led to me being greeted by grinning stares on everyone's faces when I ap-peared in the kitchen.

"Oh yes, Taylor. So much more civilised." Maud was the first to make comment.

"Daddy, your beard!" Tara ventured next.

"Yeah well, Maud is always complaining about it, so I figured that it better, go before you lot felt at home enough to comment."

"But I liked your beard." Tara replied.

"No you didn't Tara! After the... novelty of your new father having a beard wore off, anyway."

"Makes you look ten years younger, Taylor!" Sylvia commented.

Ottilie just sat there and smiled at me.

Maud announced that my cupboards were looking very bare, so she'd have to make a run to the supermar-ket. She refused all the offered assistance, and told us our time would be better spent getting to know each other. Then she left, driving my battered old Landey.

Noting that lunchtime would soon be upon us, I suggested a brief tour of my estate (the old brickworks). Fol-lowed by a stroll up the hill for a spot of lunch. And well, actually, I fancied the idea of a decent pint; I felt that I was in need of one. Suddenly I was in the company of four females -- and dream or not -- I was not quite used to the situation.

And besides, telling them about all the construction and changes I'd had made... and about the history of the place, saved me from confronting any of the issues that I should have been. You might call it cowardice! I'll call it stalling for time, if you don't mind.

At the pub the landlady and her husband greeted me like a returning hero. And then I had the problem of introducing my visitors to them. I chose to simply introduce Sylvia and Kate as friends of mine, but Tara I introduced as my daughter. I figured some noses would be put right out of joint if I didn't. Well I figured it wouldn't take very long for the information to become knowledge.

Ottilie, I introduced as Tara's mother. Somewhat to my surprise, neither revelation drew a raised eyebrow out of either of them or any of the pubs other customers.

When we sat down to eat, I realised why. Tara and Kate listed their order without consulting the menu. It appeared that my introductions might have come a little late.

Obvious really, Maud Clegg's house was but fifty yards away from the pub. I should imagine that all five of them had been in for a meal together numerous times before. And locals being what locals are, they would have wanted to know who Maud's visitors were.

While we ate a couple of the regulars came over to... you know, enquire about my health, and assure me that the damage to Quiet Times had not been serious. One guy insisted that Parson's were making a good job of fixing her, but -- like me -- he had no real idea who had arranged and/or authorised the repairs. I did glance around my companions, but they looked like they had no idea what I'd been discussing with the guy.

As we left the pub Tara wrapped her arm around mine and asked me if I fancied a nice walk back through the woods and along the riverbank. A much longer way around, I'll point out.

Walking into her trap with my eyes wide open -- to humour my child -- I said that I thought it would be a nice idea.

"Right, you and mum go that way then; the rest of us will meet you back at the house. But I'll need a key, dad. You'll be hours!"

Ottilie looked as bewildered as I felt, as Tara -- quite forcefully entwined her mother's arm around my own.

"You two need to talk!" Tara said, as the three of them made off at a cracking pace, back down the hill to-wards my house.

"Where are we going?" Ottilie asked.

"Along the road aways; there's a footpath that leads down through the woods to the river. Haven't you been exploring?"

"No, we only ever walked up to the pub from Maud's."

"Well obviously Tara has!"

"No Taylor, I'm sure she's hasn't been along here. Kate and Tara have walked down to the town a few times. But I've never seen them go off this way."

"Odd, she must have been talking to some of the local kids then. It's a regular spooning haunt for the teen-agers around here. The riverbank is a public footpath and runs right through the brickworks yard. I'm sure the path down through the woods isn't official though; but everyone uses it."

"So what are we supposed to talk about do you think?" Ottilie asked as we began strolling along the road.

"I'm not sure, there's so many things. Christ it's been a long time girl."

"Yes, I suppose I should start by saying, sorry."

"What for?"

"Not believing in you, I would have thought that was obvious."

"Oh that. Yeah well, I'm more sorry that I've missed sixteen years of my daughter."

"She's only fifteen years old Taylor."

"Yeah but I missed watching the fun part... you know you getting all fat, then calling me those nasty names as you gave birth to her."

"You should be pleased that you didn't experience the sleepless nights though; Tara was a terror. But I don't understand... why aren't you angry, Taylor."

I stopped, so Ottilie had to turn and look me in the eye.

"Ottie, I've lost far too much time out of our child's life to waste anymore of it being angry. Especially with you! Tell me, how many years of your life have you wasted with the misplaced anger you felt towards me?"

"But... you know?"

"No buts Ottilie, dreams! Now tell me, exactly what did you dream about while you were in your coma?"

"Okay me first, but then you have to explain your dream to me."

"As well as I can remember it, Ottie!"

As she'd done every time I'd used it, Ottilie smiled when I addressed her with my childhood name for her.

"Well that uncle of yours appeared to me and... well he told me that you... anyway he showed me that you were missing me."

"How?"

"Well, it was like a vision. You were with those two... First Nation women, did he call them?"

"Yeah that sounds like uncle Percy alright. You know they weren't don't you?"

"I didn't care Taylor, I was just upset that you were sitting there cuddling them and talking about me. You didn't paint me in the best light you know. Although you told them that you still loved... Anyway then your uncle took me back to London and... Well, do you remember just before you left for America, I was in the High Street."

"And I was on a passing bus!"

"Yes, that's the incident! I'd been told that you'd left the country months before, when you'd first learnt that I was pregnant. But for some reason I've always remembered that day. I honestly never saw you go past on that bus, Taylor. But your uncle showed you banging on the window, and then I saw you running back to the spot after we'd gone. I'd always wondered why my dad was so suddenly in such a hurry that day; perhaps that's why it stuck in my mind!

"Then your uncle showed me your parents advising you to try to forget about me and go to America. But I somehow knew that had preceded the High Street incident. Maybe I'm recalling that dream in the wrong or-der."

"And then?"

"Well, that's about it really. When I got out of hospital, those weird dreams nagged away at me and eventu-ally I went to see Sylvia. You know that none of our old crowd would speak to me, don't you?"

"I didn't for many years, but I do now."

"Well, when Bill and I got married we moved straight into a house out in Wokingham. I didn't realise it at the time, but that was to keep Tara secret from everyone back home. My dad couldn't risk one of the gang tell-ing you about her, could he? He couldn't even risk your parents finding out about her."

"Fat chance of that happening. Once I was out of their hair, they took off for warmer climes as fast as their legs could carry them. Retired and living it up on the Costa-De-Plonka now, they are. I sometimes wonder where all the money suddenly came from? Maybe dear old uncle Percy had a hand it that somewhere, as well."

"Well, Sylvia was the only one of our old gang I knew how to find, and I only knew where to find her because she was Tara's English teacher. And by coincidence Kate and Tara were best mates in school. Sylvia would never... well, it was strictly business when we met at school open-days and the like. And she even discour-aged Kate from mixing with Tara outside of school."

"Hold-up Ottilie, something's been bugging me. When I left for Canada, there was no way on gods green earth that Sylvia was pregnant; Christ she was at the airport to see me off. And.... Well I know for sure that there was no baby Kate kicking around either."

"Oh, but there was. Kate is not Sylvia's child; she's her sister's baby. You remember Rosemarie don't you? Rose and her husband died in a road accident when Kate was four years old. Sylvia told me that she and Mark moved their marriage up a few months so that they could adopt her."

"Well that explains that then, Kate looks so much like Sylvia, but her age has never made any sense to me, even in my dream. I kind-a chickened out of asking."

"Are you going to tell me about that?"

"Hold up kiddo, you haven't finished your story yet. Sylvia had always been blanking you?"

"Oh yeah. Well, when I got out of hospital I found out where Sylvia lived from Tara's address book. And I went round to have it out with her. We were having a real old ding-dong on her doorstep until Mark called time. He had never known you or I, so he sat the two of us down in their lounge and played mediator. It ended in tears, with both of us crying on each other's shoulders.

"Sylvia told me that when Tara first moved to her school she'd suspected that you had to be her father. They'd all been angry enough with me for marrying Bill Morris, when twelve years later Sylvia discovered Tara existed. Well, she says that if it hadn't been for her job, she'd have scratched my eyes out the first chance she'd got.

"Funny I'd have never thought of Sylvia as the violent type."

"To my good luck probably. Anyway, since that day we've been best mates again, and we've both been look-ing for you. Well, we've all been looking for you really, all of our old friends; but we were looking on the wrong bloody continent.

"Then Sylvia and Mark came down here on holiday and they heard the name Taylor Carson mentioned on the TV news when you had your accident. Christ there can't be many Taylor Carson's in the UK. There are a few in America I can assure you, but in England? So Sylvia and Mark went to the hospital and eventually they were allowed in to see you. Even with that beard, Sylvia recognised you straight away."

"Is that It?"

"Just about; until you woke this morning, yes. Although Tara had my father organise changing her name to Carson by deed pole a few months back. Actually I should mention that I don't talk to my father anymore, but Tara sees him quite often. Tara's says that now my mother's gone, he doesn't have anyone else."

"She's a sweet kid. Okay, here's my recollection. I was on my boat, possibly the day of the accident, and Tara turns up on the quay. She tells me that she is my daughter and that you're in a coma after Bill Morris knocked you about. Then she drags me up country to sit by your bedside for months on end, until Christmas day; when I woke-up yesterday morning."

"No uncle Percy?"

"Nope, no uncle Percy. Just hours of sitting by your bedside, talking to myself. Well, you actually."

"Well, that doesn't explain your nonchalant attitude when we arrived at the hospital last night! Or why you've been so forgiving."

"Ottilie, well, maybe I've been a little brief. In my dream I spent what... four months getting to know Tara, and Sylvia and all of our old friends again. I learnt all about what really happened... that so called, Swiss finishing school that turned out to be an unmarried mother's home your father shipped you off too. The care-fully timed, and choreographed announcements of your engagement and impending wedding in the local press.

"Pissed off about? Of course I was pissed! But I had four months... dreamed months I might add, to get over that anger. Four months to think about nothing but the time we'd all lost together, you, me, and our Tara. Nice name by the way. I'd somehow would have expected Scarlet, but Tara was no surprise.

"Tara Scarlet to be precise. I'd have liked just Scarlet, but it comes with... connotations, in some people's minds.

"I'd probably have plumbed for Ottilie, I've always loved women with that name."

Ottilie stopped walking, which had the effect of swinging us inwards so we were facing each other again.

"You mean that?"

"When do I say anything that I don't mean, Ottilie? I told you many times that I loved you."

Er well, I'm not sure who kissed whom first, but lets say there was a short interlude in our perambulation. Or maybe pretty long one, I wasn't watching the clock.

"Hey, what do you know about Mavis and Peter Burton?" I asked when we finally started walking again.

"Mavis Todd, Taylor. Mavis divorced Peter Burton years... How do you know she married Peter anyway?"

"They were in my dream?"

"Together?"

"Yes. Well kind of! In my dream at least, I think my presence was the catalyst for a rift to develop in their happy relationship."

"That's funny. I've seen Mavis a few times since I've been... exonerated. She's always... I don't know... it's like she wants to say something to me but can't bring herself to; do you know what I mean?"

"I've got a good idea why as well. My good friend Pete Burton was spying on me for your father. He told your father, that I was contemplating going to Canada. That, I presume, prompted the engagement an-nouncement and that kind-a made-up my mind for me. I couldn't risk running into Mrs Morris and her hus-band walking around town, could I? I'm not sure that I could have contained myself."

"Well, that might go someway towards explaining why Mavis refers to Peter as Judas Burton, but why would that make her feel uncomfortable in my presence? Surely she wasn't spying on you as well?"

"I don't know, perhaps Mavis eventually found-out what Peter had done... or at least suspected the true chain of events, but she wasn't sure. Maybe now she's feeling guilty about not telling Sylvia and the others about her suspicions. It could be, that you might have been brought in from the cold a few years sooner if she had."

"Logical, but Sylvia and the gang's hatred of me was very strong. For Mavis to appear to have taken my side... well, she might have finished-up an outcast herself."

"We'll ask her when we see her."

"No we wont, it'll only embarrass her more. We'll forget about it and show her that we've buried the hatchet!"

We eventually emerged from the woods near my house. Well, we were standing in the brickworks yard that served as my garden anyway.

I spent a few minutes, telling Ottilie about my plans for further improvements and she ventured a couple of very good suggestions of her own.

I really couldn't believe how relaxed I felt discussing it with her. We hadn't seen each other for almost six-teen years, and it felt as if those years hadn't existed.

Our discussions were halted when Tara's voice asked.

"Well have I got a proper mum and dad now, or an estranged family? I don't really fancy running backwards and forwards between one and the other of you all the time. Mind you, I could try to play one of you off against the other, that might be fun."

"And I might decide to introduce you to being put over my knee young lady!"

"That might be fun as well... father! What do you think mum?"

"Your father certainly has had cause too where I'm concerned, Tara. But I really don't think spanking you or me is in his nature. But, yes it might be fun."

"Well, are you two a couple again?" Tara insisted.

"Now Tara, you can't expect these things to happen overnight, it's been a long time since your mother and I even saw each other."

"No it hasn't! I can dream as well as you, you know!" She replied.

"Sorry?" I found myself replying.

"Dad, when Bill Morris beat mother up, he knocked me out as well. I was only out for a couple hours, but I dreamed that I found you. We walked along that path you've just come along together. And I was sitting on your lap when mother woke-up in the hospital and said, 'Thank you for coming Taylor. Our daughter's beau-tiful, isn't she?' Oh, and you agreed that I was, of course! For some reason, I just know that both of you will recall that from your own dreams. Oh yeah, and mum there's a brand new Range Rover parked in that ga-rage over there. How's that grab you kids?"

"It's not new; it's several years old. It just hasn't got many miles on the clock."

"That's new to me dad, and how do you explain that I know that it's in there. The doors are locked, so there's no way I could have seen it today.

"I didn't say anything to anyone about my dreams at the time, because I didn't understand them and I thought that they were that, just dreams anyway. Wishful thinking, if you like! But both you and mother talk-ing about dreams got me thinking. Besides when I first saw you in the hospital, I knew exactly what you looked like without your beard. I don't know what you and mum, dreamed about, but I know what I did."