The Soft Whisper of Dreams

by Christina Courtenay

  She was small. She knew that because she could never climb onto the swing unaided. Sometimes a pair of strong arms lifted her up and pushed her to dizzying heights, making her squeal with laughter. More often, though, she just hung on top of it, face down, and twirled round and round endlessly until the vertigo forced her to pause for a while.

  If she stopped she could see the house. White, with windows that were pointed at the top – Gothic architecture, she assumed – and it was almost completely covered in wisteria, honeysuckle and various other climbing plants. It was a happy place, at least that was the impression she had. But in the dreams she never went inside. She always stayed in the garden.

  Sometimes a giant with red hair and a beard came out of the house and walked towards her, smiling broadly. Then she would run to him, arms outstretched, and he would lift her sky-high, dancing around with her aloft. She laughed out loud, bubbling over with happiness.

  That was where the dream ended most of the time, and she would wake up feeling bereft as if she had lost something infinitely precious. She had no idea what it was, but more often than not she cried, unable to halt the flow of tears.

  Occasionally the dream ended differently, however. In her mind, she called it the dark version. The one that absolutely terrified her. The red-haired man would come out as before and she would run towards him, but soon after he would turn away and go back into the house. Then she was grabbed from behind by a pair of dark, hairy arms. A hand clamped down over her mouth, causing her to struggle in panic, fighting for breath. Twisting, turning, arms flailing, legs kicking frantically, she tried to catch a glimpse of her assailant, but there was only a fleeting impression of dark hair and eyes, a black beard and anger. Hatred even.

  At that point she always woke herself up with a strangled scream for help, and she knew that was what had happened this morning. She had dreamed the dark version and the images were particularly vivid, leaving a bitter taste of menace in her mouth. It took her ages to still the frantic beating of her heart.

  The dream hadn’t recurred since she’d moved to London several years previously, but it would seem she’d been wrong about thinking she’d grown out of it. Perhaps it had been brought on by the recent pressure she’d been under? Maddie sighed.

  It seemed so real. Could it mean something? ‘Stop being an idiot,’ she told herself sternly and headed for the shower. The mind was a wonderful thing, but it could also behave irrationally. Dreams were only that, dreams, and she’d do best to try to forget it and hope it didn’t happen again.

  Chapter Three

  Alexander Marcombe stared out through the bars on the window and thought longingly of the sea. The day was hot and muggy, and he could feel little rivulets of perspiration pouring down his back. A refreshing swim in the Atlantic would have been perfect, but he would happily have settled for just a breeze. He sighed. The tiny cell was unbelievably stuffy.

  Prison was definitely not a bed of roses, but then it wasn’t supposed to be, he thought ruefully. Despite everything, in some strange way Alex was thankful for his lengthy stay as Her Majesty’s guest. It had finally made him grow up, and on reflection – and he’d had a lot of time for that during the past three years – he thought it was the best thing that could have happened to him. Making his cellmate understand this concept, however, was a different matter.

  ‘You’re a weird son-of-a-bitch, Marcombe.’ Foster, a huge brawny man in his mid-twenties, shook his head in total incomprehension. ‘How the hell can you say you’ve enjoyed it here? You must be off your rocker.’ He scratched his head. His shock of dark hair had been given a crew-cut a month previously, and now it resembled the back of a hedgehog.

  ‘Quite possibly, but I didn’t say “enjoyed” exactly. I said it had made me mature, made me see life in a new light. I’ve learned some very valuable lessons during my time here and I don’t intend to forget them in a hurry. And I certainly wouldn’t want to return. Ever.’ Alex’s mouth tightened. There had been tough times when he’d wanted only to lie down and die, but something had made him carry on. Pride perhaps? Or just sheer bloody-mindedness.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. When you go back outside though, and no one wants to give you a job in case you steal something, you’ll soon go back to doing what you’ve always done. What else is there? And before you know it, you’re back in here.’

  ‘I suppose you have a point there, but that won’t be the case with me.’ Alex knew Foster had already spent roughly half his life in one institution or another and tended towards a cynical view of the whole system. It was difficult to persuade him otherwise and he did seem to be stuck in a Catch 22 situation.

  ‘Oh, I forgot. You toffs stick together, don’t you? I ‘spect you’ll find a job just like that.’ Foster snapped his fingers loudly to emphasise his point.

  ‘Not quite, although I daresay it might be true for some people. No, I don’t think any of my former friends would employ me, but I’m lucky enough to have an older brother with more tolerance than I deserve. He’s been incredibly patient with me over the years, and now he’s promised to give me a home until I can stand on my own feet again.’

  ‘He ain’t a criminal?’ Foster asked suspiciously.

  Alex laughed. ‘I don’t think he could be further from it if he tried. No, he’s a lawyer and I can’t see him ever doing anything that wasn’t right and proper.’

  ‘Sounds like a dead bore to me,’ Foster commented grumpily.

  ‘Now there you’re wrong. Conscientious and hardworking maybe, but he has a great sense of humour and you’d have a hard time finding a better sailor or sportsman. And there’s a mischievous side to him as well.’

  ‘Hmph.’ Foster lay down on his bunk and turned his face towards the wall. Then he added in a slightly wistful tone of voice, ‘The only thing my older brother ever did for me was talk me into joining him in a bank robbery that went wrong, and I found myself back in here faster than lightning. Rob’s a bastard.’

  ‘Yes, so you’ve told me.’ Alex didn’t know what to add to that so he stared out of the window again. ‘I can’t wait to get out tomorrow,’ he said finally.

  ‘Well, good luck to you. No offence, but I hope I don’t see you again.’ Foster turned around to face him, and Alex was pleased to see he was back to his normal, laid-back self, smiling again.

  ‘No chance, not in here anyway.’ He grinned confidently. ‘But why don’t you come and see me when you get out, instead of that brother of yours? Maybe I can help you find the straight and narrow.’ Alex noticed Foster raise his eyebrows in scepticism. ‘Only if that’s what you really want, of course.’

  ‘And how would you do that?’

  ‘Well, I’ll find you a job.’

  ‘Hah! Fat chance, mate.’

  ‘No, I’m serious. Or do you really want to keep visiting institutions like this at regular intervals for the rest of your life?’

  ‘I can think of better places.’

  ‘Well there you are. You’ll be free in a couple of weeks, right? By then I should have adjusted to life outside and I might be able to help you.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Foster shook his head. ‘Why would you want to help me? We’re different.’

  ‘So what? At least think about it – there’s not much else to do in this hell-hole.’

  ‘You’re right there. Okay, I will.’

  ‘Good. You know where to find me, right? Marcombe Hall, not far from Kingsbridge.’ Foster nodded and Alex lay down on his own bunk with his hands behind his head feeling pleased. If he could save at least one person from this kind of life, then perhaps that would go some way towards atoning for his past sins. And God knows, I want to atone for them.

  With the sun warming his face and the breeze ruffling his long hair, Alex took a deep, sweet breath of freedom as he stepped out of the prison doors the next morning. His gaze took in every tiny detail of his surroundings and revelled in them. The outside world at last. He spread his arms wide and laug
hed out loud.

  ‘Hey, Alex, over here!’ His brother Wes had come to pick him up as promised, and when Wes gave him a bear hug Alex felt as if he was already home. Although he was the taller of the two, Alex felt safe and protected, like a small child and not like the twenty-eight year old man he really was.

  ‘Congratulations.’ Wes slapped him on the back and led the way to the familiar moss-green Range Rover. ‘I never thought you’d come through this so well, but you did it. I’m proud of you Alex.’

  Alex knew what his brother meant, but the emotion clogging his throat prevented him from expressing his feelings. Instead he joked, ‘That’s a strange thing to say to a brother who’s just spent three years in prison for drug smuggling.’

  ‘You were just young and stupid.’ Despite his profession, Wes dismissed these serious charges with a flick of the hand.

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ Alex smiled to show that he hadn’t taken offence.

  ‘No, seriously, you were led astray and I doubt you’d even thought it through properly. You were never cut out for a life of crime, Alex. For one thing, you’re a lousy liar.’

  Alex laughed. ‘You’d be surprised what you learn in prison. I’ve improved on my lying techniques no end, and a few other things besides.’

  Wes glanced at his brother’s muscular frame and raised his eyebrows. ‘Pumping iron or fighting?’

  ‘A bit of both perhaps.’ Alex grinned.

  ‘Hmm. You were always good at fighting. As I recall, you gave me a bloody nose and black eye on more than one occasion.’

  ‘You deserved it. Pompous older brother and all that.’

  ‘Hah, that’s what you thought. I should have had a damned medal for putting up with you. Little brothers are a pain in the arse.’

  Alex playfully punched Wes on the arm. ‘Come on, we had fun most of the time.’

  ‘Yes, until I had to grow up a bit too fast.’ They both spared a brief thought for the dark times when their mother had gone off with another man and left their father heartbroken, unable to cope. Wes shook his head and changed the subject. ‘Well, whatever you’ve learned, it’s done you nothing but good. It’s strange, but for the first time since then I feel like I can talk to you as an equal again. I don’t have to do the “stern father” routine anymore.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’

  ‘Well, at least not with you.’ Wes smiled.

  ‘I’m sure that’s a relief. You probably have your hands full with three kids around the place.’ Besides an eleven-year old daughter from a previous marriage, Wes had two sons, aged two years and six months respectively with his second wife Kayla. Although he’d never met the younger two, Alex knew they kept his brother on his toes and Wes had been telling him all about them during his weekly visits to the prison. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me cluttering up the place as well?’

  ‘Hell, I could use some help. Kayla lets them get away with murder and now she’s got her friend Maddie visiting, so the two of them gang up on me. Having you around will even things out a bit.’

  ‘I’ll do my best, but don’t expect too much. If I remember correctly, Nell only has to smile at me and I’m putty in her hands.’

  ‘Great.’ Wes made a face and sighed. ‘And here I thought I had finally found an ally. Never mind, they’ll soon drive you round the bend as well. Then you’ll see what I mean.’

  The playroom at Marcombe Hall had been created out of three adjoining rooms on the second floor and was big enough to house the contents of an entire toy shop. To Alex, who had never seen it before, it seemed that was precisely what it did contain, but Wes assured him they didn’t spoil their children.

  ‘Oh, not much you don’t,’ Alex muttered, staring at the play-tent, miniature slide, masses of cars and boxes overflowing with soft toys, not to mention puzzles and books of every description and size.

  ‘This is only a fraction of what’s available. You wouldn’t believe the things you can buy these days.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Alex said doubtfully. ‘Looks to me like you could start a nursery school in here.’

  His sister-in-law came towards him with a welcoming smile on her face and six-month old Edmund comfortably ensconced on her hip. The little boy buried his face in his mother’s shoulder and stuck his thumb into his mouth at the sight of the big dark man. He didn’t look at all convinced that he wanted to meet his uncle. Kayla seemed to have no such qualms, however, and gave Alex as big a hug as she could manage with only one arm.

  ‘Welcome home, Alex. I hope Wes has prepared you for mayhem, which is what we usually have in this house these days.’

  ‘Believe me, it will make a welcome change.’ Alex suddenly found it hard to swallow past the lump which had formed in his throat. Kayla was acting as if the past three years had never happened, nor the terrible things which had gone before, and it was more than he deserved. But he was grateful. Somehow, he would make it up to them all.

  ‘Alex, come and meet Maddie and Jago.’ Wes jolted him out of this uncharacteristically emotional state and Alex looked across the room to where a tall red-haired woman was crawling on all fours with his older nephew on her back. Alex knew the boy had been named after an ancestor, so didn’t comment on his unusual name.

  ‘Maddie my horse,’ Jago explained happily and grabbed two fistfuls of Maddie’s wildly curling mane. She grimaced, but didn’t complain. Instead she tilted her head up as far as she could under the circumstances and smiled.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Alex,’ she managed, before her rider egged her on across the carpet. ‘Sorry, I’ll have to talk to you later.’

  Alex laughed. ‘You really should teach your sons to treat women better, Wes,’ he joked before getting down on all fours himself. ‘Now how would you like to ride a bigger horse, Jago?’ he asked the little boy.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Jago hurled himself off Maddie and landed on the carpet in a heap, but this didn’t deter him in the slightest. He simply picked himself up, dusted off his knees and ran over to Alex.

  ‘Thanks.’ Maddie sent him a grateful look and collapsed onto her back on the floor, trying to straighten her spine. ‘Two-year olds weigh a lot more than you think.’

  Alex didn’t answer. He was too busy watching her unconsciously sensuous movements. As she stretched her arms over her head, her tight T-shirt rode up showing him an expanse of toned, sun-tanned stomach, and his mouth went dry. His gaze strayed further up, and although she couldn’t be described as voluptuous, her breasts, which were clearly visible through the thin material, were perfectly shaped and to his mind extremely beautiful. Damn it, she’s not wearing a bra! Swiftly, he looked away. Three years was a long time without a woman, but he didn’t think that was what caused his body’s instinctive reaction. There was definitely something special about her.

  When he looked up again she happened to be staring in his direction. He noticed that she had green eyes, slightly slanted like those of a cat, and they widened as if she could read his thoughts clearly. A blush spread over her features and she stood up abruptly.

  ‘What time is lunch, Kayla? I’m starving.’

  Alex stared after her until Jago recalled him to his duties. He reflected later that coming home had been both easier and more difficult than he’d imagined, but he would never again take his freedom for granted.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Auntie Maddie, it’s time to wake up. Stop pretending you’re asleep, I can tell you’re not really.’

  Maddie was rudely awakened from a blessedly dreamless sleep the next morning by Nell, who waltzed into her room without so much as a knock. Maddie buried her head under the covers.

  ‘Go away, your horrible child, it can’t possibly be morning yet,’ she groaned.

  Nell giggled. Like everyone else in the house, she was quite used to the fact that Maddie was most definitely not a morning person.

  ‘Mummy sent me to say that we’re going to a fair and you have to get up straight away or we’ll go without you.’ Nell tugged at the
covers from the bottom end of the bed and Maddie hung on for dear life.

  ‘Go ahead. I’m quite comfortable here and I grew out of going to fun fairs years ago.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a grump, Auntie Maddie, it’ll be fun,’ Nell insisted, and succeeded in partly uncovering her victim. ‘And it’s not a fun fair, it’s a country fair. We’re all going, Uncle Alex too.’

  If that had been meant as an inducement, it failed dismally. In fact, it had quite the reverse effect on Maddie. She’d been deeply disturbed by the desire she had seen lurking in Wes’s brother’s blue eyes the previous day, and even more so by her own reaction to him. When he’d looked at her like that, her body had tingled and she’d felt herself grow hot under his gaze. She could understand why he would react in such a way to a woman he’d never met – after all he’d been in jail for three whole years – but as for herself there was no excuse. None whatsoever. Especially after the recent David debacle.

  ‘Hmph,’ was all she replied now, but Nell was nothing if not tenacious. When all else failed she resorted to jumping on Maddie and tickling her, until there was nothing for it but to capitulate. ‘All right, all right, I’ll go and have a shower. I’ll be down in a while.’

  ‘Okay.’ Nell jumped off the bed, obviously satisfied with a job well done. ‘You’d better hurry. Annie is making breakfast. It smells really good.’

  ‘Doesn’t it always?’ One of the greatest perils of visiting Kayla and Wes was the threat to her waistline. Maddie never understood how Kayla could live with Annie and not get incredibly fat.

  Nell just giggled again and left, closing the door behind her. Maddie headed for the bathroom. ‘Well, I’m up now, so I might as well go,’ she muttered. But a little voice inside her insisted that perhaps she was doing it so she could spend more time with Alex and get to know him better. This made her angry with herself, and she turned on the shower with more force than was strictly necessary. The last thing I need at the moment is a relationship, especially with a former criminal, even if he is handsome as sin!