Charlie's Dream

by Jamie Rowboat

  "Gemma, that's fine. When I said we were having a good time, I really meant it. He's lovely," she said, turning away from Peter as she talked about him.

  "Oh, tell me, tell me, what's going on."

  "Okay thank you that's fine, so don't you worry about us. I'm sure Peter can get me home okay, so I'll see you back at the house," said Marie, completely ignoring her. "I'd better go though, good luck with your dinner," she said, before Gemma could respond.

  "We'll get it out of you tonight, don't you worry about that, every detail," said Gemma, laughing.

  "Okay, bye," said Marie clicking the off button on the handset and handing it to Peter. "Ooh, she's a tricky one," she said with a knowing smile. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the next few hours, if that's not too much to ask?"

  "Oh, it sounds pretty awful to me," said Peter smiling. "So what would you like to do now? The options are endless." he said, going very slightly red.

  "I'd like to go for a walk and just have a look around. Gemma mentioned this part of town a few times, so I think I'd like to get to know it a little bit."

  "Sounds fine to me. In fact, an old girlfriend of my Dad's has a house a bit further down the river from here. She's an artist and a complete nutcase, but totally lovely too. I haven't managed to visit her since getting here, but when I was a kid, I knew her really well because she and Dad lived together. That was when he was a bit wilder and a lot less political, of course. What do you think, are you game, or would you like to do something less personal?"

  "No, something personal sounds just fine," said Marie, lightly.

  They made their way down a number of unmarked streets that wound along the riverbank beneath the ever-present plane trees that cast shadows on the gravel. Marie was just beginning to wonder what was going on, when Peter pointed along the riverbank.

  "There it is, the old wool shed that Rachel bought in the sixties. It must be worth an absolute fortune now, it's like nothing you could buy these days. Just you wait, you'll love it," he said, rejoining their hands and picking up the pace of their walk.

  "You're excited about coming here, aren't you?" said Marie, attempting to adjust her stride to match his.

  "Yes, I am, she was great to me at a time when I didn't really have anyone else around. My dad was immersed in his career and my mum was on another planet, as far as I could tell. Anyway, she's great and I feel terrible that I haven't had the heart to face her until now," he said, happily.

  The wool shed was enormous and as they stood beneath the large brass bell that was the only adornment on the street frontage, Marie was getting cold feet.

  "Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks," whispered Peter, sensing her concern.

  "BEEZZ," went a little intercom by them in reply to Peter's pull on the bell.

  "QUOI," said a harsh voice out of the receiver.

  "Hello, it's Peter Allbrush here. Could you tell me."

  "PETER, IS THAT REALLY YOU," screamed the voice so loudly that they both recoiled slightly.

  "Yes it is," said Peter calmly. The tiny door that was almost invisible in front of them made a clicking noise as it opened.

  "Come in, I'll meet you at the stairs," said the voice more quietly.

  Inside the innocuous door lay a garden that stretched for at least eighty metres that was all housed beneath a vast glass ceiling. The tropical theme was highlighted by a group of three fully-grown palm trees that acted a centrepiece to the madness. At their base, sat a small piece of lawn that was the only open area within the wild array of plants that threatened to overwhelm it if given a chance. The pathway ran beneath the thick canopy of jungle vines and tiny birds hopped between the mass of outstretched limbs, happy in their safe, enclosed world. Having walked through the tunnel of plants, they emerged into the open area in the middle of it all and Marie stopped to take in the scope of the whole garden. As she did so, her attention was drawn to a statuesque lady in her seventies who was gliding down some stone steps some way in front of them. She was wearing an orange caftan that was billowing behind her like a bedouin's cloak. The colour matched her wild, golden hair that was only kept decent by a tightly knotted silk scarf that struggled to keep it from springing madly free.

  "Hello, my darling," she said, entering the clearing and enveloping Peter in her long, spangle-covered arms. "Oh, it's been too long," she gasped, squeezing him tightly.

  "Mm, I remember your smell so well. Chanel number nineteen, if I remember correctly," sighed Peter, gently releasing himself from her grasp. "Rachel, may I introduce Marie, she's the reason I've finally had the courage to come and see you."

  "How lovely to meet you, Marie, though why this numbskull has had to find courage to come here is quite beyond me. But thank you, thank you for getting him here," she said, taking Marie lightly by the hand.

  "It's lovely to meet you too," said Marie quietly. "This place is absolutely amazing, did you do all of this yourself?" she asked.

  "Goodness no, I knew roughly what I wanted, but I was lucky enough to have a genius who designed and built it for me back in the sixties," she said, laughing loudly.

  "I think you know her Marie. You were just talking to her on the phone, you know, the tricky one," said Peter.

  "What, Gemma designed this?"

  "Ah, so you know Gemma do you and she's still as tricky as ever is she," laughed Rachel.

  "Yes, she is," replied Marie.

  "She's an incredible person. You know, Geoffrey was a student of hers don't you. After I'd bought this place, he invited her here for dinner one night and within an hour of arriving she'd offered to redesign it for me for free. It was a dream come true, as the place was an incredible mess when I moved in. But come on, I'll show you the rest of the house and then we can have a drink on the balcony. How does that sound?" she said enthusiastically.

  The rest of the woolshed was a work of art as well, with stacks of Rachel's sculptures dotted around the place. The kitchen and main living area were on at the back of the house, with large, French doors opening out onto a terrace that looked over the Seine. As they sat on the comfy chairs that littered the terrace, with a Campari and tonic in their hand, they watched the city lights become bright against the darkening sky. Below them, on the ink-black river, they could see the nighttime cruisers motoring slowly up and down, with their decks lit up by long strands of gaudy fairy lights.

  "This place is truly incredible," whispered Marie, while Rachel was inside getting herself a refill.

  "I know, you'd never guess it from the outside would you? Do you mind that I brought you here?" he asked gently.

  "I'm very happy," said Marie, touching his hand. He looked at her as she did so and something passed between them. Before Marie knew it, she was kissing him and enjoying the feelings it released in her. It wasn't sloppy, like snogging a boy on New Year's eve, but sensual and passionate with a sense of anticipation in it. They only just managed to stop as they heard the returning footsteps of their host.

  "So, tell me, Marie," said Rachel, re-emerging from the kitchen with her refreshed drink in hand. "What do you think of my Peter?" she asked, breaking them out of their trance.

  "Err. err. umm, well, I only met him today, but so far it's been fun," said Marie.

  " Gemma is helping my old man out with some work and I said that I'd escort Marie around for the day," said Peter, trying to make everything sound normal, but flashing a look at Marie that made her melt.

  "Well, for what it's worth, I think you look very natural together and it's good to see you looking so happy. Now, I have a problem in that I am due at a gallery opening this evening, for which I'm already slightly late. I'm so sorry to have to dash off, but I'm committed to this now I'm afraid. However, you're most welcome to stay here longer if you like. Just make yourselves at home. You can stay the night if you want and we'll all have breakfast together. There are plenty of spare beds. Anyway, it's up to you, I'll be home quite late."

  "Uh, thank you, we haven't really discussed our pla
ns for this evening," said Peter, still trying to gather himself.

  "I think it sounds great," said Marie, before she could stop herself. "We've been busy all day, so it would be nice to hang out here for a while. I can't stay the night, because Gemma will be expecting me back sometime, but I'd love to stay a little longer, if that's okay," she continued, looking for support from Peter with her emboldened words.

  "Yes, that sounds good, as long as you're sure it's okay by you, Rachel. I mean, we've hardly had a chance to catch up or anything. I feel a bit bad about taking you up on your hospitality like this having failed so miserably to contact you."

  "Oh, nonsense, Peter, we'll have plenty of time to catch up now that you've done it once, won't we?" said Rachel. Peter just nodded and smiled. "Now, there's plenty of food in the fridge and wine in the cupboard. So make yourselves at home," she said, as she stood up and went to kiss them both.

  "We'll get to know each other better I'm sure. Any close friend of Gemma's is bound to be interesting." she said, giving Marie a hug.

  With that statement, she was gone, leaving the two of them slightly shaken by the cyclone of activity. Suddenly, they were alone and the tension between them was only broken by the sound of the little front door slamming as their host finally left the building. They came together and Marie wasn't certain whether it was the Campari she had just finished, or the madness of the moment, but she felt comfortable enough to initiate their kissing again without saying a word. It seemed like speaking would only confuse things, and the very first touch of his lips confirmed it. He held her around the waist and caressed her breast through her blouse and instead of recoiling from the intimacy of such a touch, she felt her body welcoming it like a woman, not a girl. She could feel his hardness against her stomach and it sent a current of electricity tingling through her.

  "Peter," she said, pulling away reluctantly.

  "I've only done this once before, so I might not be very good," she said awkwardly.

  "That's okay, we don't have to make love. I'm amazed that you want to be as affectionate towards me as you are. I wouldn't ask you to jump into bed with me right now, I don't want to spoil such an incredible day by being that insensitive," he said, touching her cheek.

  "But I want to. I want to jump into bed with you right now and I don't want to think about it too much. I think you' re gorgeous and I think you'll look after me. You will, won't you?"

  "But, I, err." he stammered.

  "You do want to, don't you?" she said quietly.

  He answered her not in words but in the caress of his hand that traced its way up her leg and created a feeling through the silk that made her tremble with excitement. This time, when they kissed, it carried an urgency within it that moved them out of the realm of words and into a course of action that flowed quite naturally. Marie gave no thought to stopping it and allowed herself the complete freedom to follow the passion that had been ignited between them. He was gentle and patient with her as she had hoped he would be. They undressed each other slowly and then lay on a cashmere blanket in the moonlight that bathed them with its sylvan caress. Peter kissed and touched Marie in a way that gave her a powerful orgasm without having him inside of her. As the orgasm subsided, he moved on top of her and she felt his hardness fill her completely. Her body started shaking as she pulled him into her and a deep groan shook through her body as another orgasm swept over her.

  "Are you okay?" he whispered.

  "Yes, its beautiful, just don't stop," she urged him, as she held onto his legs and pulled him hard into her. Marie had completely surrendered to the power that she felt within herself. It was like a piece of her had lain dormant for aeons, but was now awake and nothing could muffle it. It was quite a lot later that they lay giggling beneath a doona, sipping white wine and watching the moon track its way across the city skyline.

  "This has been an amazing day and if you'd told me it would end up like this, I would have never thought it possible," said Peter, lying on his arm, looking at Marie.

  "Since meeting Gemma, it is my opinion that anything can happen, but yes it has been amazing," she whispered, reaching out her hand to touch his face. He leaned forward so that they could kiss again and she rolled on top of him as he did so.

  "BRRIINNG, BRRIINNG," went his mobile that was in his discarded jacket just beside them.

  "Jesus, that thing is such a pain in the ass," said Peter rolling over in the direction of the phone.

  "Well, just leave it," whispered Marie, attempting to pull him back towards her.

  "I know. I would, but the last call was for you and I am kind of responsible to Gemma for looking after you, particularly at eleven at night," he said, as his hand searched inside his jacket on the ground next to him.

  "Mm, I suppose so, but I don't want to talk to anyone," she said, finding the phone and pressing the on button. Peter just nodded,

  "Hello, Peter here," he said somewhat sternly.

  "Oh hello.yes, uhar, yes, yes, I'll get her immediately," he said, before passing Marie the phone with a clearly disturbed look on his face.

  "Hello," said Marie with questioning in her tone.

  "Marie, it's Gemma. Look I'm sorry to disturb your fun, but something terrible has happened," she said quietly but directly.

  "Oh no, is it Charlie?" gasped Marie.

  "No, its nothing to do with him, Marie. It's your Mum. She's been involved in a serious car accident coming home from the conference, and."

  "What, where is she?" stammered Marie.

  "Oh Marie, I don't know how I can tell you this, but she didn't make it to the hospital. She died in the ambulance before they could get her there. Oh God, I'm so sorry to tell you like this, but I didn't see that I had any other choice." There were a few moments of silence.

  "Are you there, Marie? Are you okay?" said Gemma gently.

  "Yes, yes I'm here, but I don't think I'm okay. I need to get home. I need to see Dad," she said faintly.

  Chapter 11

  After breakfast, Charlie and Shamir went into the garden to continue the work they had started the day before. The dew lay heavily across the lawn and the air was moist and cold. Charlie shivered as he looked down across the slumbering magic of Shamir's garden. His boots felt damp as he put them on and for a moment he yearned to be back inside with the companionable warmth of the fire. A group of tiny songbirds fluttered around the area of grass at the front of the house. They skipped up quickly as their claws touched the cold grass and chirped to each other happily as they went. Shamir scattered the gathering with a light clap of his hands, only to have the entire ensemble reconvene their meeting on his shoulders. It didn't seem to bother him and he strode down the large stepping-stones that led towards the gate as though nothing unusual had happened.

  There were quite a few trays of seedlings left to plant and Shamir was keen to get them all in the ground before the full moon that night.

  "The ground-water is drawn to the surface with the approach of each full moon. This makes it the perfect time to plant young seedlings who can't reach their roots down very far into the ground," Shamir explained.

  "Oh, I see," said Charlie, slipping his extremely wet gardening gloves on.

  "Slimy gloves eh," said Shamir, seeing the look of disgust cross Charlie's face.

  "Yup," replied Charlie.

  "Nasty," laughed Shamir, handing Charlie a couple of spades, which he couldn't fit in the wheelbarrow. Gulliver bounded along beside them, happy to be out and about so early. As they neared the vegetable patch, they were joined by three young elves, Ayou, Mala and Lantor, who had come to get instructions on their morning's assignments from Shamir. They peeled off into the garden with only the smallest recognition of Charlie's existence coming from the elfin girl, Ayou, who flashed her eyes briefly in his direction as she left.

  "I know I'm not the king of England or anything, but the elves all seem to be acting as though they're sick to death of having visitors here from the other side. They seem so disinterested
in me, don't they like me?"

  "Oh, don't think that Charlie, they're all fascinated by you, it's just that I asked them to keep their distance until you had settled in. After the incident on the first morning, we were concerned to let you choose your own pace of introduction, in case something happened to you," he said, with a broad smile that lit up his craggy old face.

  "You mean if I'd died," said Charlie, as the door slammed shut behind him.

  "Yes," answered Shamir, shivering slightly. "But you haven't, so if you wish, we can put Ayou and Lantor out of their misery. They've been dying to meet you and now their patience can be rewarded."

  With that, Shamir glanced towards the elves who were working in the vegetable patch a little way off and before he could say anything, they had dropped their tools and were racing towards them. They hugged Charlie in a gentle way and then danced around him until he was dizzy from watching their smiling faces. All of a sudden, Ayou stopped the dance and took Charlie by both hands so that she could look at his face more closely. While she did, Charlie gazed freely upon her gentle features. She had the same eyes as Marie, that searched so deeply upon contact that any dishonesty had nowhere to hide.

  "The news will be all over the forest in five minutes. You won't get any peace now," said Shamir, laughing.

  "So now will I meet the whole tribe?"

  "Yes, but before we go, I want to give you some clothes," said Shamir.

  "Okay, sounds good to me," said Charlie.

  When they arrived at the cottage, Shamir disappeared into a dark corner of the room, where numerous boxes and crates were crammed on top of each other in a large pile. After heaving and pushing a number of them aside, Shamir levered out a fairly small box that looked even older than its compatriots. On closer inspection, Charlie was amazed that it hadn't fallen to pieces with the jolting it had just received.