“Oh Joe.” My name on her lips was heaven.
“I’m here bella.” I replied softly but she didn’t react. I realised she couldn’t see me again, that was disappointing. She continued to type enthusiastically, completely engrossed in her writing. As much as I wanted to talk to her, to make her see me, there was something quite comforting about watching her work. I could study her animated expressions, the tiny crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated, the way she chewed her bottom lip and then blew out a frustrated breath that made her lips vibrate. This last action made me chuckle, I found her so endearing and totally enchanting. I grew more and more fascinated with her by the minute. I was able to sit on the end of her bed and observe her, she remained totally unaware of my presence. The way the shadows played across her cheeks as she worked, the lamplight highlighting the right side of her face, accentuating her features, was utterly mesmerising. I began to realise that I remained in this dream longer than the previous ones, they had lasted only minutes. I wasn’t complaining, I hoped it lasted as long as possible, I had no desire to leave. It seemed like hours until she finally stopped. The relentless tap tapping of her fingers on the keyboard had lulled me to sleep. The sudden absence of that rhythmic sound rang out like an alarm clock, I jerked my head up and I blinked. I was still on the end of her bed but stretched out with my feet up instead of being seated. I must have fallen so deeply asleep that I’d fallen out of the dream and now was back in it again? It was odd how I had continued it seemingly from the point I had left off.
Naomi had packed away her laptop and a large pile of notes on her bedside table and was now snuggling down beneath her bed sheets. She still hadn’t noticed me, I accepted the fact it wasn’t going to be an interactive experience this time, if it meant being able to stay with her for longer, I didn’t mind. I hoped the fact that she was drifting off to sleep didn’t foretell my imminent departure however. I rose off the bed fully expecting the usual blackness that accompanied my exit but it never came. After a few more minutes of waiting I found myself at a loss over what to do with myself. I was used to it ending so this was entirely new.
Looking at her peacefully sleeping, I decided on trying to discover any possible clues to her identity. Other than her first name, I knew nothing. There wasn’t much to go on here in her room and I felt uncomfortable going through her things but then again, this wasn’t real and these experiences intrigued me. I wanted to know more. I needed to understand why I kept seeing this woman. A quick look around wouldn’t do any harm. I scanned her bedroom but nothing immediately popped out at me, it was a simple room with a double bed, wooden floors, a rug, a built-in cupboard and set of drawers and then a bedside table with a lamp on it. There was a painting on the wall, it was a print of Monet’s Lily pond. OK, so chances are she likes Monet? I thought.
My gaze fell back on the bedside table and the pile of notes on the top. It was an A4 notepad, I wondered if I’d be able to pick them up? In the previous dream I’d been unable to physically connect with anything but it wouldn’t hurt to try, I seemed substantially more solid this time.
Pleased to find that I could touch things, I picked up the pad of notes and began flicking through. It appeared to be notes about Italy and Florence, my home town. Intrigued, I read more. She wrote about my book bar ‘The Magnificent Medici’, how did she know about that? That nagging feeling that I knew this woman returned. I looked again at the familiar lines of her chin, her cheeks and the line of her brow, it was so puzzling to know that you knew someone but couldn’t remember why. I turned the page and saw my name, written all over the paper in varying sizes, horizontally, vertically, diagonally…what made me stop and catch my breath was that I recognised the handwriting, it was mine.
I dropped the pad and took a step back, a memory niggled in the back of my mind of this woman asleep on her couch and the television playing to itself as she slept. I had no time to dwell on it as the sudden knock on the bedroom door made me turn so quickly I knocked the bedside lamp and it fell to the wooden floor with a crash.
“Naomi?” A worried female voice shouted through the door.
“Porco dio!” The curse left my lips and even before the door handle turned and the woman on the bed stirred and began to wake, I felt the return of the black void.
Chapter Nine
Naomi
“Naomi?” I heard Imogen call and then a loud crash resounded through the room, I sat up with a start just as she barged through my bedroom door,
“What the fuck?”
“You tell me! Are you OK? I heard noises.”
“I’m fine. What was that crash?” I reached over to turn on my lamp but it wasn’t there.
“Where’s the lamp? Can you get the light?” Immy felt on the wall by the door for the switch and I shielded my eyes as it flicked on.
“Ow! Damn, what time is it?”
“It’s around three I think. What the hell happened to your lamp?”
I followed her gaze to the floor where my bedside lamp lay shattered next to my notepad.
“I must have knocked it, I don’t know. Bloody hell, I only just bought that lamp! Immy, could you get me the dustpan and brush from under the kitchen sink please? I don’t want to step on the floor, there’s glass everywhere.” She nodded and went to get it. I was bummed about the lamp, it was relatively new and it wasn’t cheap. I bent over to pick up a few of the larger pieces along with my notepad, it was open on a totally different page to the one I had left it on. It was open on the page with Joe’s name scribbled all over it. The weirdest thing was that I could tell the other pages had been neatly folded back on themselves. It was also a few feet from the table, no way had I done that. The strangest feeling washed over me and I shivered. I could see how I might have knocked over the lamp in my sleep but I couldn’t explain the notepad. That was just downright unsettling.
Immy came back with the dustpan and brush.
“You stay there and I’ll sweep towards you.” She said. “I got a bag for the bits.”
“Thanks.” I closed the notepad and put it back on the side table. I’d been writing for hours about Joe so I guess I must’ve opened it on that page and just forgot.
“Brrr, it’s freezing in here! Is your window open?” Immy asked. I looked,
“Nope, it is a bit cold though.” I said. I held open the bag for her as she tipped in the glass and shards of ceramic and then I put in the bigger pieces and tied up the bag.
“I’ll take it” she offered, “you go back to sleep.”
“Thanks. Sorry I woke you.”
“It’s alright. I was in the bathroom when I heard noises anyway, so.” She shrugged. “Long as you’re OK?”
I smiled and nodded, she smiled back and closed the door but left it ajar- on purpose I was betting. So she still didn’t trust me then? What on earth did she think I had done or was going to do? Half of me wondered if Mum had sent her round to keep an eye on me, rather than believe Immy’s story of wanting a sisterly night in- it wouldn’t surprise me. I got up and shut the door a little harder than was necessary, hoping she heard it close. Honestly, between the two of them they made me feel like I was totally failing at life. If only they could see just how hard I was trying to change my stars. But it wouldn’t matter soon anyway, they would both be living their own lives in New Zealand, leaving me to get on with things in whatever way I chose. I’d miss Mum, I mean she was the only parent I had left, albeit overbearing but she was still my mum. Perhaps I’d miss my sister a little less than the first time she had gone. The thought brought a wry smile to my lips. From now on it was just me, my writing and Joe. My Joe. The way I wrote him. This was going to be my story and nothing and no one was going to get in the way. For the first time in ages, I felt in control. I accepted I had some issues but show me a person who doesn’t! I’d carry on seeing Dr Blanchard, at least for a few more sessions anyway and I had a couple of regular proofing jobs in the pipeline to keep the money situation ticking over. Yep, this was me,
Naomi Douglas, taking my life back and not giving a shit how it looked to anyone else on the outside. Soon I would have no one to answer to but myself and I could not wait!
***
It was after 8.30am when I awoke to the smell of sizzling bacon- Imogen was cooking breakfast. She’d made coffee and bacon, eggs and tinned tomatoes.
“Woah! What’s this? I didn’t know I had any of this stuff in the fridge.”
“You didn’t, I wanted to make us breakfast so I popped round to Tesco and got it.” Immy beamed. I had to admit it was nice waking up to a cooked brekkie, I couldn’t recall the last time I’d even had one.
“Cheers Imms. It looks delicious, did you put sugar in my coffee?” I asked, taking a sip
“Yeah, was I not supposed to?”
“It’s fine, I take sugar. I just like a flat teaspoon that’s all or it’s too sweet. You got it just right though, thanks!” I smiled at her.
“I’m going to have to eat and run I’m afraid, Mum called earlier, she needs me back to finish up.” There was a hesitant pause and she looked at me over the rim of her cup,
“The answer’s no.” I said firmly.
“Oh come on Naomi? Please? I could use your help and I’m sure Mum wants to make things up with you. I already told her you would come!” She pouted at me.
“Then you’d better un-tell her because I’m not going. Before you start, I’m not being stubborn, I just have things of my own to do.”
“Like what? I thought you’d caught up on all your outstanding proofs?”
“I have, it’s not proofs. I’m writing my own book.” I took another sip of coffee.
“Really? That’s great Naomi! I mean are you really doing it this time?”
Sheesh, thanks for the vote of confidence little sister.
“Yes, really.”
“What’s it about?” She asked. “How much have you done already?” I couldn’t decide if she was genuinely interested or she was trying to trip me up. I decided on the latter, she’d already betrayed my confidence once and I wasn’t going to let it happen twice.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” I winked at her, not wanting to tell her anything about it. If she knew it was about Joe she really would think I’d flipped my lid and I could just imagine the ensuing chaos. Mum would probably want me committed!
“Aww, meanie!” She poked out her tongue and giggled. “Crikey! I’d better run, I told Mum I’d be there for 9.30, she wants to crack on today. Are you sure you won’t come?”
“I might pop down this afternoon, maybe, if I get enough done.” I only said that to placate her, hoping it would get her off my back and off to Mum’s sooner. I was itching to get writing. She seemed satisfied with my answer thankfully and after putting her breakfast pots in the sink and grabbing her overnight bag she hugged me at the door.
“See you later maybe?”
“Yeah, I’ll try.” Not a chance in hell. I closed the door after her and virtually ran to my bedroom to retrieve my laptop and notes with gleeful abandon. I felt happy, really happy for once. I could spend the entire day, guilt free, concentrating on myself and doing something I loved. I had purpose.
Back in the lounge, I turned off my mobile and switched on the TV. I liked to have films playing low in the background when I worked, it helped me to concentrate strangely enough. I started flicking through the channels for a film while my laptop was warming up. Movies Gold was showing the 1953 Dean Martin/Jerry Lewis film-The Caddy. I plumped for that, it was an easy-going comedy and I liked the old films. Even more so that it was set in Italy, I noted that fact as a sign. I tuned the TV volume low so I could only just hear the dialogue in the background. The duo were performing a comedy dance sketch with hats and canes, it made me chuckle. I made myself another large coffee and, when I got the milk, I noticed other food stuff had made its way into my fridge. Eggs and bacon weren’t the only things my sister had bought this morning. Well at least I wouldn’t have to order takeaways for the next few days. I assumed Mum had given her money to buy food for me. It was a nice gesture but as she so fondly liked to remind me, I was twenty-nine and perfectly capable of feeding myself. I could cook quite well as it happened, I just sometimes, quite often these days, didn’t feel like it. Maybe I’d cook myself a nice Italian tonight. Fucking a nice Italian wouldn’t go amiss either.
“I’m coming to get you Joe!” Yeah, you wish you were. Settling down in front of the TV with my coffee on the low table and my laptop on my knee, I readied myself to begin. I opened my notepad and glanced over a few roughly jotted down plot ideas. I still had Laney Marsh’s original manuscript with my previous ‘rewrites’ on so I was using that as a starting point. Although I was basically using Joe as my main character, I planned on totally re-jigging the original story, this book was going to be as unashamedly self-indulgent as I could make it and get away with. It would never be published but that didn’t matter. This story was for me, it was my way back to sanity and my way of seizing control of my own life. If nothing else, it got me back into writing, which is essentially where I wanted to be. It was a win-win situation.
It was a good half an hour or more at least when I took a quick screen break, had a little stretch and glanced at the TV. I watched for a few minutes, chuckling to myself at Jerry Lewis, the guy was a nutter but funny as hell. It was then I took note of the name of Dean Martin’s character, he was called Joe Anthony, Joe! That really did make me laugh. That confirmed it, I was definitely on the right path.
It got to the part in the film where Dean sings his iconic song ‘That’s Amore’, I loved that song and found myself signing along when the volume on the TV suddenly shot up so loud I had to cover my ears,
“Arghhh! What the bloody hell?” I dove for the remote and turned it right down again. I must’ve caught the remote with my foot or something, Christ, it’d nearly deafened me. I put the remote away from my feet this time and settled back down to begin typing again, a few seconds passed and the volume rose of its own accord yet again, Dean was really blasting it out! The speakers on the TV vibrated.
“What is up with this thing?” I turned it down again and shook the remote to see if anything inside was broken, nothing rattled.
“Do that again and I swear I’ll throw you out the ‘effin window!” I threatened it and put it down on the sofa near my leg instead of on the coffee table so it was nearer, just in case it taunted me again. I glared at it for half a minute, waiting to see if it dare. It didn’t, so I continued to type. Five hundred more words in and the TV turned itself off. I looked up over the lid of my laptop at the blank TV screen.
“Fucking great! I really need a busted TV right now. Fine! Stay off then.” I tried to work but the silence was quite distracting. I needed some sound.
Sighing I put down the laptop and went to find a CD, I needed something easy listening and finally settled on a compilation album called ‘Lazy Afternoon’. There were some decent tracks on it, perfect for my needs. I put the disc in the player and clicked ‘play’ and left the case next to it, face up with the songs showing. Deciding another coffee was needed and maybe a snack, I headed for the kitchen. I’d noticed Immy had left a packet of biscuits near the kettle and I was just stuffing one in my mouth when the song that was playing skipped forward to song number two. Trust me to have a faulty TV and CD player! I didn’t mind too much, it was a beautiful song called ‘Dancing on my Own’, it was a Robyn cover by a local guy made good- Calum Scott I think his name was, he’d been on Britain’s Got Talent or something. I started singing while I waited for the kettle and then about a third way into the song, the volume went up. OK, now I was a little perturbed, it was one thing having the TV do it- I could discount that as a faulty remote…but the CD player too? Nope, something else was going on. My palms began to sweat, torn between wanting to go and investigate and nervous about what I might find.
“Man up, Naomi!” My heart was pounding, shuffling tentatively towards the lounge area, I held my breath
. The song was still blaring out and at first glance nothing looked out of place. Then I noticed the CD case was on the floor and not where I’d left it. The TV was still off and my laptop was still on the coffee table but when I looked closer I could see something was different. Edging closer, one step at a time, adrenaline pumping, I read the three words on the screen, three words I knew I had not written.
I AM HERE.
Chapter Ten
Joe
She slammed the lid down on the laptop and retreated a few steps, her hands covering her mouth. I hadn’t intended to scare her, I just wanted to find a way of letting her know I was here. Now I felt terrible. I had tried to get her attention by turning up the television and then turning it off but that hadn’t worked, so I’d tried the music. Maybe the words on the computer had been a little too much too soon. I was desperate to communicate with her. I felt like I’d used a lot of energy up with efforts so I hoped it was enough.
She’d had no idea I had sat and listened to some of the breakfast conversation with her sister. While they had been talking, I had wandered back to Naomi’s bedroom and read through some more of her notes. It seemed she knew all about me. I had found some roughly scribbled pages of what appeared to be memories of conversations between her and I, or notes from a diary written in a strange way. I had sat and tried desperately to puzzle it all out and I had come to the terrifying conclusion that I wasn’t dreaming at all. I must be in a coma from some sort of illness or accident. I could only assume then, that I was in fact having out of body experiences. It’s the only way I knew how to explain it. Everything fit, her tears and shock that first night she had seen me reflected in her computer, the reason she knew my name and I knew hers. It also explained why I recognised her but wasn’t sure why, I must have amnesia! Unless of course out of body episodes caused your memories to be unclear? Either way I knew this must be what was happening to me.
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