Charlie's Dream (15 page)

"They're up by the river, about two hundred metres away," was all he said. No sooner had his feet touched the ground, than he was off again, whipping through the trees to report on Shamir's arrival to those gathered at the river. By the time Shamir sped into the gathering, there were three elves already in attendance. Two of them were cradling Charlie in their arms in an attempt to calm him and the other one was trying to comfort Ayou, who was kneeling and sobbing uncontrollably on the grass.

"Ayaar," whispered Shamir to himself, as he appraised the scene in front of him. He needed to act quickly if Charlie was to be saved. He had seen this happen once before and they had lost the young girl that time. She hadn't made anything like the contact that Charlie had managed, but she had surfaced briefly, raising their hopes of completion. It had all been lost on the second day when young Madelaine had fallen unconscious in a similar way to Charlie. Just then, Kanook came flying into the clearing still wearing his nightgown. He came running straight over to Shamir.

"We need to get him back to the cottage quickly. I'm going to need some mint, ginger, rosehip and two young leaves from the Great Fig," said Shamir quietly. Kanook just nodded. "I'll make my way back now to prepare the cottage," continued Shamir. "You follow on with Charlie and however many it takes to carry him safely. Make sure you keep talking to him, he knows your voice and he must trust that we're still here for him. The dark energies are at work again, my friend and we must balance them with absolute lightness. We have a closer connection with him than Maddie and we're not going to lose him."

"I know," was all Kanook said, before spinning on his heels and grabbing two young elves that were nearby.

"Look after Ayou, she's close to the edge," shouted Shamir, as he ran backwards towards the path home, but his friend didn't hear him, as he was already immersed in conversation. Shamir toyed with the idea of running back but he felt such urgency to get home that he decided against it. He was intensely focused on the magic he would need if he were to stand any chance of bringing Charlie back from the darkness where he now lay.

Back at the house, he washed himself and put on the white robes of his family clan before lighting a stick of incense and sitting quietly in meditation in his favourite chair.

Charlie's body suddenly started to shake uncontrollably and the monitors on the bedhead started bleeping wildly. One of the nurses on night duty came rushing into the room, having been alerted to the situation by a monitor on her desk.

"Get the doctor, quickly," she shouted to one of the junior nurses, as she ran to Charlie's bedside. "His temperature is rising and he's having trouble breathing," she continued. Within minutes, there were a team of doctors around his bed, all immersed in synchronistic movements, perfected through endless experience. They wouldn't let Trevor or Evelyn into the room when they arrived about ten minutes later. The head nurse explained that the doctors were concerned about fluid on his brain and were still with him until the immediate danger had passed.

"If he doesn't improve soon, we may have to take him into theatre and try to release some of the pressure that's built up in his skull," said the nurse, touching Evelyn on the arm. "But try not to give up hope, our very best neurosurgeon is with him now," she added.

"When will we know?" asked Trevor, concernedly.

"Very soon, I think. They're going to have to make a decision if his condition doesn't stablise," she answered. At that moment, the door swung open and a harried-looking doctor in his fifties came wearily into the corridor.

"We've decided not to operate for now. We think the stress of it might cause more harm than good at the moment. His condition has stablised, but we'll be keeping a very close watch over him," he said, edging away from Charlie's parents. "But, I'm sorry, we've just had four people come in from a car accident and I must attend to them. There's a fine doctor still with him and he'll keep me informed on an hour to hour basis," he added, breaking into a fast walk towards the door.

"Don't worry, we'll do all we can for him," said the nurse. Evelyn bowed her head and Trevor guided her to a nearby sofa, where she slumped down in an aggrieved heap.

"Rap. Rap," went the front door, pulling Shamir out of his meditation.

"Damn it," he muttered, wishing that he had been given more time. He stumbled off the chair and headed towards the door.

"Rap. Rap," it went impatiently again.

"All right, all right, I'm coming as fast as I can," he said, reaching for the handle of the door. When he pulled it open, a young elf came falling into the room in a great heap.

"The others are coming," he panted from where he lay on the floor.

"Thank you, Sita, I know," said Shamir, trying very hard not to get angry at the young elf. However, before either of them could say anything else, Charlie arrived on the shoulders of four elves who carried him straight across to the bed. One of them was Kanook, who was singing softly into the young man's ear as they went and he continued to do so even after he had been put down. Shamir and Kanook started by gently taking off his soaking wet clothes and slipping on a pair of Shamir's comfiest pyjamas, before levering his limp body under the doona.

"I'm going to need you to watch over him while I complete my preparations. Now, where are those herbs I asked for and where's Ayou?" said Shamir, looking around the room. "We're going to need her help," said Shamir quietly.

"We'll find her," replied Kanook, heading for the door.

Shamir asked everyone to leave the room, apart from Lantor, who kept singing to Charlie while Shamir brewed the potion needed for his healing work. While Lantor sat quietly at the side of Charlie's bed, chanting as many songs as he could remember and holding his friend's hand, Shamir ground the herbs into a smooth paste that he then applied to Charlie's chest. The smell was rich and sweet, filling the room with fresh hope. Shamir knelt down beside the young elf and stroked him on the shoulders.

"We need your sister here to help us now," whispered Shamir. Just as he said this, the front door opened.

"We can't find her anywhere, we've got the whole village hunting for her, but she's completely vanished," said Kanook, striding into the room. Shamir stood quietly for a moment then suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he clicked his fingers in delight.

"Ahaa, I think I know where she's gone," he said, scampering towards the front door. "Wait here with Charlie, I'll be back in a minute and keep singing," he said, disappearing. He charged straight across the lawn in the direction of the cottage garden. There was no one around as he entered the gate, because everyone else was searching further afield. As he approached the potting shed, he heard some faint scuffling noises that were definitely too big to be a mouse. He stopped as he reached the door and a small croaky little voice spoke.

"How did you know I would be here?" it squeaked.

"Ah well," said Shamir, crouching down on his haunches by the door. "You see, I couldn't think of where my friend had gone. Then, I had a sudden memory of a very young elf, who I found hiding in my shed when she had broken her father's sacred staff, while trying to use it as half of a ladder she was making," said Shamir, laughing slightly. There was a moment of silence and then he could hear someone approaching the door.

"He was so angry about that," sniffled Ayou, emerging timidly from the shadows.

"He sure was," said Shamir, opening his arms to the young elf. "But no one is angry now, for you have done nothing wrong," he said, grasping her to his chest and holding her while she sobbed. Then he held her away from him and dried her blotchy face with his sleeve.

"What happened to Charlie has nothing to do with you. He is trapped between the two worlds. Far from your connection, with him being a problem, it is possibly the best chance we have of saving his life. He has to know this valley is real. At the moment, he is in a place where he thinks it might still be a dream. He knows we are real though and he particularly knows his feelings for you are real, but I need your help to call to him, will you help me?"

Ayou just nodded.

"We'll get through this, you'll see," he said, grabbing her hand. "Now, come on, we have work to do," he continued, stepping off in the direction of the cottage. As soon as they were inside, Shamir asked for all the elves to leave.

"What do you want me to do? " said Ayou, standing at the end of the wizard's bed.

"I want you to get in to bed with him and cuddle him like you did last night," said Shamir without hesitation.

"Are you sure?" she replied with surprise.

"Ayou, your love for him is not wrong. It is special and you should be proud of it," he whispered. "Now hop in and let the feeling of love flow between you, so he knows you're here and I will meditate in my chair and disrupt the confusion of the dreams which are engulfing him. This will hopefully give him the clarity to get home."

"Is there a chance that he might return to his own world?" asked Ayou, as she disrobed and slipped, still quite bashfully, under the sheets.

"No, it has gone beyond that possibility now, he must return here first, or he will die in both places," said Shamir plainly.

"But why, is he too sick to go back or something?" asked Ayou shakily.

"No, it's not that, he's not in the least bit sick. He is in the precarious position of transit where he is not anchored in either world sufficiently and this is why the fear has an exaggerated influence over him. By opening himself up to you, he has accepted the reality of this place far more than he had before. But in doing so, he has created a conflict in himself about where he belongs."

"Oh," said Ayou deciding not to ask any more. She was too tired and shaken to speak, so she just did as she had been asked and snuggled up to Charlie, who was now sleeping quite peacefully. The cabin was dark all around her apart from half a dozen candles that were dotted around the place. It felt so beautiful to lie with Charlie again, even with the possibility of losing him. It made her heart skip to feel his skin against her own and she craved for him to wake up and make love to her again. Her thoughts ended pretty much there, as a blanket of sleep lay across her and warmed her with its presence. When she woke up a little later, the dawn light was streaming through the window and Shamir was nowhere to be seen. Charlie was still fast asleep by the looks of it, so she decided to get up for a while.

"Where do you think you're going?" said a quiet voice from beside her.

"Ah," said Ayou as her startled breath left her body. She turned around to see Charlie propped up on his elbow smiling at her broadly.

"Oh, my God, are you okay?" she asked, slumping back down on the edge of the bed.

"I will be when you get back in here and give me a kiss. I've been waiting for you to wake up for ages," he said, with a grin that lit up his face.

"Ayaargh," said Ayou, launching herself across the bed and pinning him to it with her legs on either side of his chest.

"Do you know what I went through last night? I thought you were going to die," she said, before bursting into tears and kissing him all over his face.

"Wait, where's Shamir, does he know what's happened? He's been sitting up all night trying to help you return."

"Well, he obviously succeeded, but I haven't seen him this morning."

"We must go and find him straight away. Are you up to it, or should I just go?" asked Ayou, slipping off his chest.

"Couldn't we go and find him in a minute," said Charlie, reaching across to stop her descent from the bed. He caught her arms and held her playfully down so that their faces were right together.

"I could feel you last night you know. I think it saved me from falling between the two worlds and dying," he said, before kissing her tenderly on the lips and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I felt a blackness enveloping me, that seemed to suck me into an impenetrable, dark space, but somehow I could feel your warmth through it and I had to come back. Do you think it's okay for a human to love an elf?" he whispered, between kisses. Ayou just nodded her consent and held him around the neck as he gently made love to her. There was a beauty in his eyes this morning that revealed a new depth to him. They were lucky to finish their lovemaking before the front door opened to reveal Shamir and Kanook in intense conversation about the day's possibilities. They both stopped dead as they saw the two young lovers cuddling together in bed, before bursting into laughter. Charlie and Ayou both lay there, slightly embarrassed that they could have been so easily sprung, while the old men laughed uncontrollably at the foot of the bed.

"God, it's so good to see you like this," said Shamir when he'd eventually gathered himself. "Welcome back."

"Trevor, Evelyn, you can both go in now, his condition has stablised again," said the nurse, leaning over them, as they slumped against each other on the sofa. "The immediate crisis seems to have passed," she continued, as Charlie's parents were roused from a nasty nap that had finally overwhelmed them at about four in the morning. "He's still unconscious, but he's peaceful again."

As much as the flight to Paris had seemed to go in a second, the return flight took an eternity to pass. The previous few hours of waiting for the flight had been as unpleasant as any Marie could remember. Now, as the pilot finally announced their descent into Heathrow, her heart felt like lead and her head was bleary from the lack of sleep. Peter had been marvellous, driving her to Gemma's house and then onto the airport to await the first possible seats on a flight home. He had remained caring without trying to be affectionate, which was fortunate, because the mixture of guilt and grief made his touch almost unbearable. Gemma was stronger than ever, not in her words, which remained simple and practical, but in her demeanour which was compassionate without being overbearing. The farewell had been difficult and although she was beyond caring in some ways, it still churned relentlessly around in her head on the flight.

"YE-YE-YE-YE," went the tyres as the plane touched down, shaking her out of her endless re-runs of the past few hours. In truth, it was easier to do this than to face the thoughts of what was to come, or anything to do with her mother. An impenetrable blackness surrounded any memories of her and the concept that she was gone, was simply unthinkable. Then there was Charlie and the reality that he was not only still in a coma but that she had now betrayed his trust. She felt sick to her stomach when she thought about it, particularly when she considered how self-righteous she had always been about the issue of fidelity in relationships. It felt awful to imagine that the only thing that could eclipse such thoughts was the knowledge that she had lost her mother while she was doing it. Gemma had been almost silent throughout the flight, but now as they stood up to disembark, she grabbed her hand and gave her one of her looks.

"Let's get on with it, eh, that is presuming you want me around, I understand if you don't, I can just be nearby or whatever you need," she said tenderly.

"Please stay. I need you with me to get through this, I can't do it without you," was all Marie could force out.

"That's all I needed to know," whispered Gemma, squeezing her hand.

Marie's father, Ian, was waiting for them as they left the customs area. Gemma felt relieved that she had called him to arrange it, when she saw the embrace they gave each other. He and Marie had been through a difficult time since his break-up with Jackie. The simple fact that he was not living with Marie anymore made it hard for them to be comfortable together, as there was a large part of their lives that they no longer shared. Nevertheless, there was an incredibly strong bond between them that had been formed in the early years when he had looked after her full-time, while Jackie worked. Whether their marriage had finished acrimoniously or not, they had spent twelve years together and many of these had been extremely happy. They had travelled for a number of them throughout Europe and a good part of Asia in an old Land Rover and it had only been Marie's arrival that had set them on paths that gradually diverged. Jackie wanted financial security and saw Ian's contentment with working as a plumber as a weakness that she would have to compensate for. This desire had set them gradually at odds with each other and although they both tried to bridge the gap, the resentment grew between them to the point where Ian had to move out. From then on, Jackie never looked back. Her law career took off and a new man called Neil came into her life, who she ended up buying a house with, much to Marie's initial dismay. He was a lawyer, like Jackie, and a decent enough guy, but at ten years Jackie's junior, Marie felt strange about the whole thing. In the end, Marie moved into the studio room over the garage and this gave her sufficient space to cope with the new arrangements.

Ian lived in a flat nearby, for Marie's sake, but she could always see the pain in his eyes when he had any contact with Jackie, who remained consistently dismissive of him. Only once or twice did the ice melt slightly between them. On one memorable occasion, they had too many drinks on Marie's birthday at a Spanish restaurant. They started talking to her about their travels together over two or three jugs of sangria. The three of them laughed and laughed that night, but in the morning the frost had returned and their separate positions reinforced.

"Hello Gemma," said Ian, releasing himself from Marie's hug.

"Hi Ian, how are you going?" She said quietly.

"Mm, I'm much better now," he sniffled, giving Marie a squeeze around the waist. "Come on, I've got the car parked about a mile and a half away, so if we're going to make it by nightfall, we'd better leave now," he suggested.

They made good time back to the car in the end and were soon whipping through the lunchtime traffic heading home.

"So, what's been happening with you?" he said lightly to Marie. Gemma glanced at Marie who then turned to look at her Dad with an incredulous expression on her face.

"Oh, you know, apart from having my boyfriend in a coma, making love to a gorgeous guy in Paris who I had only just met. Then have my Mum killed in a car accident, all within a couple of days, not much really, how about you?"

There was a moment's silence before they all burst out laughing. For Marie, the laughter bordered on hysteria, as the feelings of loss were given an outlet in some way. Ian pulled the car over to the side of the road as he could see the distress on his daughter's face.

"I'm sorry Marie, that was such a stupid thing to ask," he said, reaching out to touch her hand.

"I tell you what, I feel a bit better now, Ian," said Gemma in a conciliatory tone.

"Me too, Dad," said Marie. "Now maybe we can talk about Mum," she continued with her voice choked with emotion.

"Yes, yes we can," he said hesitantly.

As they drove home, he told them all about the accident. The police believed that Jackie had lost control of her new BMW on the M25 while trying to answer a call on her mobile phone. 'A disturbingly common problem,' according to the sergeant in charge. Marie had no desire to see her mother's body and was relieved when Ian said that it was out of the question because of the damage that had been done.

"You don't want to remember her like that and she wouldn't want it either. Is that okay by you?" he said, when the subject came up.

"That's fine, Dad, I really couldn't bear to see her," she replied.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you by talking about her like that," said Ian.

"It's okay, Dad," squeaked Marie.

They all went quiet for a while, as though the words were just too practical at the moment and silence was utterly preferable. Marie felt very strange, as though she was waiting for some trigger to make her feel the loss because at the moment she could feel nothing but an overwhelming numbness. The waiting finally ended as she entered her home and looked around at the familiar things that she associated with her Mum. Her overcoat that she'd bought in the Harrods's sale last year hanging on the peg by the front door. The pile of weekend newspapers scattered on and around the coffee table from where Jackie had perused the headlines for any mention of the cases her firm was involved with. Or the Special K packet and half-full coffee plunger left on the kitchen table in a whirl of departure mayhem. It was all there, like a jigsaw of her final movements on the planet. Marie couldn't bear to be in the house anymore, so she retreated to the relative safety of her room. As she opened the door, a wave of loss that she felt within her came crashing over her defences. She slumped on the side of her bed and wept until she was gulping for air between the waves of tears.

"Oh, Mum," was all she could manage, before the tears overwhelmed her again. No one came and found her and she was glad of it. Her mind was full of memories that she didn't want to share with anyone, or she would break the strange dream that they created, keeping her mother alive in her mind, at least for a while. As the feeling subsided, she turned around to find Gemma standing at the doorway.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spy on you," said Gemma quietly. Marie just shook her head and raised her hand to signal that it was okay and continued to wipe the tears away as best as she could.

"I think I might have a hot shower, then I want to go and see Charlie," she snuffled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes I'm sure, I must face seeing him, whether he's there completely or not. I need to ask for his forgiveness, even if he can't answer me. I can't bear to have that hanging over me on top of all of this. Will you take me to the hospital?" she asked, turning to look at Gemma, who was now right behind her.

"Of course I will, you must do what you think you must do."

"Thank you," she whispered, as Gemma stroked her hair.

There were various relatives milling around in the kitchen by the time Marie came downstairs. Gemma had already spoken to Ian and so she was spared the need to engage anyone on her way out of the house. As she sat next to Gemma in her dad's car, she felt the waves of emotional hysteria fading and a strange deadness replacing them.

"Its horrible Gemma, the loss of my mum is sitting in me like a pain that I know won't ever go away," said Marie, staring at the floor of the car. "I've never felt anything so horrible," she continued quietly. Gemma didn't say anything, but just burst into tears and had to pull the car over to the side of the road before she drove into something. In the end, she did hit something, the curb, which she rammed with enough force to jolt them quite severely in their seats.

"WHOA," she gasped, as she attempted to prevent the car from careering any further off track.

"Oops," sighed Marie, as the car rocked to a halt, half on the road and half on the pavement.

"What brought on the tears? " she asked. Gemma turned to her to make her reply but before she could say anything, there was a knock on the window.

"RAP, RAP, RAP.., are you all right in there?" came a concerned male voice from outside. Both of them lurched round in surprise to identify the origin of the noise, only to find the helmeted figure of a local policeman peering in at them. Gemma wound down the window, with tears still blotchy on her face.

"Gemma, is that really you? I've been following you for the last few minutes and when I saw you mount the curb after some fairly hairy driving, I was expecting to throw the book at some young fool with a bottle of cider on his lap. But this comes as some surprise I must say, but wait a minute, who's that in they're with you. oh Marie it's you."

"Hi, Simon, or should I say, constable Barker," she said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Don't be silly Gemma, you know it's Simon to you. By the way, Marie, I'm so sorry to hear about your Mum. And how's your friend Charlie doing?" he asked, before realising the gravity of his questioning.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he stammered, as he saw Marie lower her head.

"That's okay, Simon, it's just been rather a big week," said Gemma, touching him on the arm. "We're just off to see Charlie now, but I'm sorry about the driving. I'll concentrate more from now on," she continued.

"Oh God, don't worry about it, I'll give you an escort to the hospital to make sure you get there okay," he said retreating from their car quite hastily, relieved to have a focus away from saying anything else.

"Oh, you don't need to wo..," said Marie trying to stop him, but it was too late. He had his mission and he was into it. So, from where they were to the hospital, which was fortunately not very far, they had young Simon up front in his Panda car, complete with flashing lights.

"I feel like Jackie 'bloody' Kennedy," said Marie, as they watched a growing number of spectators take to the side of the road, drawn to view the spectacle.

"Well, it could be worse. At least he hasn't got his siren on," said Gemma with a faint grin.

"Very funny," said Marie weakly.

Just then, they entered the hospital grounds with the young constable proudly leading the way. The hospital, which had once been a country house, was a classic blend of stiff, Victorian architecture and modern technology. With heavy stonewalls and chequered floors, it seemed out of place with the blinking machines and compassionate staff. It gave the place a permanent wartime feel to it, as though the whole place could be loaded up into a few trucks and moved on, if the enemy closed in. The overall effect gave Marie the creeps, and as they squeaked their way across the highly polished floor of the entrance hall, she felt her stomach churn like a naughty child being sent to the headmaster's office. They checked in at the front desk before climbing the wide spiral stairs to the intensive care unit. This was housed behind two large swing doors that would only open once the duty nurse had cleared you to visit through a small intercom on the wall.

"Yes, it's Gemma Granlin and Marie Hosking here to see."

"BEEE," went the loud buzzer beside them, interrupting her.

"It's okay, Gemma, we were told you were coming," said a friendly voice through the same little box. "Please just push the door to come in," she continued politely. Once inside, it was evident the voice came from a middle-aged nurse with a big smile who was sitting behind a plain desk just in front of the swing doors.

"I'm afraid you've missed Charlie's parents, if you were hoping to see them as well. I ordered them to get some fresh air and something to eat because they've hardly left the hospital since it happened," said the nurse cheerfully.

"That's okay, we'll see them next time," said Gemma, smiling at the nurse in a reassuring manner. The nurse just nodded as the phone beside her interrupted any more discussion.

They found Charlie down the end of a long, carpeted passageway, in his own little room, which had a window looking out over the large ordered grounds of the hospital. There were heaps of cards and pictures plastered on every inch of wall space from everyone that he knew, and there were flowers on every flat surface available. The large bank of machines ticked and flashed as they kept a constant vigil on Charlie's system. Seeing him like this again had more impact on Marie than she could have imagined and she had to grope for the chair that sat beside his bed to stabilise herself.