The Arms of Morpheus

Chapter 22

Amelia rummaged through her underwear drawer looking for her passport. Stuffed inside an old pair of tights, hidden behind the largest, most unflattering pants that she owned, she found it. It was the safest place in the house; secure from the prying hands of any burglar.

She opened the front cover, the young woman inside staring back at her. The photograph had been taken over six years ago, before Blake had been born. A carefree time where the most important things in life had been her career and settling down with Noel in a cosy house with a lawn, two cars and a smoking chimney. Just like in the storybooks.

Then she became pregnant; a fortunate accident. Life changed massively, her career replaced by antenatal classes and nappies. A steep learning curve for a single child with no experience of children.

Looking back, those pre-family worries seemed trivial. Insignificant. That accident had been a blessing. And she ached every time she thought of losing it.

Downstairs a door slammed shut. Noel was home.

Placing the passport under her pillow, she walked downstairs, finding him in the kitchen.

'Hi, Babe. Had a good day?' She forced the words.

He turned. 'Not bad. Where's Smurf?'

Earlier Claudia Drake had called Amelia, asking if Blake could stay at her house for dinner. She had begged rather than asked; her emotions still raw. How could Amelia refuse? Besides, it gave her some time alone to talk with Noel.

'She's with Claudia and Rufus. They wanted to give her some dinner. Claudia promised to have her home for seven.'

He nodded, swigging orange juice from its carton. 'Cool. How about you? Did you call work?'

'Yeah, I spoke to Buddha. I've got a meeting planned for next Monday. It seemed to appease him.'

'What you gonna tell him?'

'Not sure. Probably make some stuff up, try to pad things out a bit. He's not getting the truth; those treacherous bastards don't deserve it.'

With all that had happened in recent weeks, they had largely forgotten Amelia's imminent redundancy.

'And I met Rufus for lunch. At that Italian place near the university.'

Noel smiled. 'How's he doing? Not baring a grudge I hope.'

'No, everything's OK. He's doing some research work with his former students. I think its holding him together.'

'Yeah.' Noel paused. 'We all need something to focus on right now.'

They walked into the lounge, Amelia taking a glass for his juice.

'Here, use this.' She handed it to him. 'You know I hate it when you drink from the carton. It's not hygienic.'

He took it. 'Well you know me, Mel; live fast, die young. We've gotta try to have some fun while were on this planet.'

She considered his point. He was right. Drinking orange juice from a carton was not the most important thing in their life at the moment.

'I called him earlier.' She began. 'I wanted to meet him, to ask his advice on something.'

'Advice?' Noel questioned. 'On what?'

Since returning from lunch, Amelia had considered how best to tell Noel about her discussion with Rufus, of his comments and the plan she had devised. Suddenly it all sounded like a complete folly. She decided to tell him straight.

'Dreams.' A pause. 'I've been having strange dreams. Well, nightmares really.'

Noel frowned. 'Dreams? What does the great Rufus Drake, Emeritus Professor of Theology at Trinity College, Cambridge know about dreams?'

Not a good start. She hated Noel's sarcasm, it normally lead to an argument.

'This is the reason I couldn't confide in you, Noel. Listen to yourself. I can barely bring myself to talk to you these days.'

'OK, OK.' He sat down. 'Tell me what happened.'

Amelia detailed the two dreams of Blake and Asclepius. How the old man seemed to want to hurt their daughter and how the serpent terrified her.

After several minutes of detailed explanation, Noel looked at her, perplexed.

'And Rufus said that this man was the cure?'

'No, he didn't say that. He said that he appeared in the dreams of people who had problems. Medical problems. He helped them to find a cure.'

'And he believes this?'

'He emphasised that the figure is mythical -'

'Which means invented, right?' Noel's aggravation was obvious.

'Not invented. Just folk law, passed down by numerous generations. Just because there is no evidence of his existence, it doesn't mean he didn't exist.'

Noel snorted. 'I think those classical stories of yours have gone to your head. Jesus Christ, Mel, these are just dreams.'

'Maybe to you, Noel. But to me they are a bloody living hell. I can't get the pictures out of my head. They're too real.'

He said nothing.

'So how do you explain the rock tombs? I saw them as vividly in my dreams as they were on the computer screen.'

'I don't know. Maybe you saw them somewhere. On TV or something. It could be a case of dream incubation, you know, where you go to bed primed to dream in a certain way. Like planting a seed in your subconscious. Maybe these images suddenly came into your head from years ago. Your brain can store imagery for years until one day-'

'Oh spare me the sermon, Doctor Maher.' Her turn to be derisive. 'Just because you can't justify it, doesn't make it less real. Maybe in your clinical world it wouldn't pass for a theory, but to me it makes some kind of sense. Crazy and maybe fucked up sense, but it's all I have right now.'

'Mel. Maybe you need to see someone. A professional who can help you.'

'I'm going.' She was resolute.

'What? To see someone?'

'To those rock caves. To Turkey. I need to see if there is anything there for me.' She thought. 'For Blake.'

'You have to be kidding, right? Blake needs her mother here, not hundreds of miles away chasing some golden goose.'

'To do what? Sit here everyday going out of my mind, spending every waking minute wondering why I am such an inadequate mother, someone incapable of helping her own child? Do you have any idea how that feels?'

He did. For all of his research he was as clueless as she was. It hurt.

'She can stay with Claudia for a few days. You can continue with your laboratories and scanning machines and I'll do this. I have to do this.'

Noel saw how serious his fiancée was: Deadly.

'What kind of mother does that make you, Mel? Leaving your daughter when she needs you most?'

'Fuck you, Noel. Don't you dare put me on a guilt trip. I'm doing this with or without your consent.'

She stood, turning away from him, tears of rage running down her face.

'It's a long way to go on your own.' He said.

'I'm not going alone. Rufus is coming with me.'

She turned to look at him, her eyes alive with determination.

'And I'm going tonight.'