Daniel's Dream (17 page)

With guilt hovering round him like a sickly aura, he reached for the telephone and called the office.

‘Hi,’ he said as she answered the phone. ‘It’s me.’

‘Daniel?’ said Lisanne, surprised to hear his voice. Why was he phoning her at work? What was wrong? ‘Are you okay?’’

‘Yes, yes, I...’ Daniel paused for a moment, heard bouzouki music playing in the distance. ‘Is that the radio I can hear?’

‘Radio?’ Lisarnne could hear nothing. ‘Not here, no. Is everything okay Daniel? You sound upset.’

‘Everything’s fine,’ said Daniel. The music had stopped, leaving him confused. ‘I... I just phoned to say... I’m sorry, Lisanne. I’ve been acting like a complete shit lately. I don’t know what’s got into me. But I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.’

Lisanne was taken aback by this unexpected confession. ‘Daniel, this isn’t really the time...’

‘I know, I know. I just had to let you know. You’re too good for me, you know? I don’t know why you put up with me.’

‘Daniel... look, can we talk later? I’ll come home early.’

‘No, no... I just... I just want you to know. I do love you.’

Lisanne, nonplussed, gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered. Through the receiver, Daniel could hear voices in the background, and the sound of doors slamming. ‘Listen, darling, a client’s just walked in. I’ll have to go,’ she said, a touch sadly. It had been a long time since she had heard those words. ‘Will you be okay?’

‘Yes, I... oh, by the way, I’m seeing Vince this evening for a drink.’ There was a moment’s silence before Lisanne spoke again.

‘Oh, that’s... that’s nice. Send my love, won’t you.’

‘Of course.’

‘Bye, then.’

‘Bye.’ He replaced the receiver and sat looking at the phone. Why should a matter as simple as phoning Lisanne leave him so drained? He felt as if he had just run a marathon.

Outside, the wind was starting to howl, and the beginnings of a summer storm threatened to erupt. Exhausted beyond reason, Daniel lay down on the sofa and gazed half-heartedly through the window as the rain started to fall. But he could not get comfortable. He yawned a couple of times and shifted around uneasily. From beyond sleep, familiar sounds beckoned him. Barely able to keep his eyes open, Daniel trudged upstairs, stripped swiftly and slipped into bed. He still had a few hours before he had to meet Vince; a little nap would do no harm.

It was warm and cosy between the sheets, and as his eyes shut fast Daniel felt himself being clrawn inexorably out of this world and into another. Within moments he was fast asleep. 

‘Where have you been?’ asked Kate, passing Daniel a tall glass filled to the brim with a colourful and exotic concoction. Slices of fruit and chunks of ice bobbed around in the glass, and a thick white straw protruded from the top.

Daniel took hold of the drink and tried to pretend that everything was normal, even though he felt totally disoriented. He took a small sip as he looked around him, like a detective looking for clues. It was night-time, and they were seated on the patio of the Pumphouse. A string of lights which hung from the vines above their heads cast a warm glow over the taverna, and the place buzzed with noise and excitement.

It was this hustle and bustle of activity that had taken him by surprise. The tables were filled by dozens of people, all engaged in conversation and all around him men and women were smiling and occasionally breaking into peals of laughter. It was such a contrast to the first time he had sat in the Pumphouse that he hardly recognised the place. 

He returned his attention to Kate, to find her looking at him expectantly, clearly awaiting an answer to her question. He tried to frame a suitable response, but with all the noise and activity going on around him he was too distracted and could not think what to say.

‘Been?’ he gulped, playing for time. What sort of answer was she looking for? Surely she knew where he had been? He took a sip of the garish concoction that Kate had thrust into his hands and found himself breaking involuntarily into a smile. It was a pina colada. Daniel hated pina coladas. He had never developed a taste for sweet cocktails or any of those ridiculous drinks adorned with fruit salad and miniature garden fumiture. But still he could not help smiling; despite himself, it tasted delicious.

Kate continued to stare at Daniel expectantly. ‘Yes; we’ve missed you.’

There’s that ‘we’ again, mused Daniel, Was she serious? Had he really been missed? Had anyone even noticed that he had not been around? It seemed unlikely. Daniel decided that it was probably in his best interests to play along with the game; it seemed harmless enough. Dreams, like day-dreams, were intrinsically fragile things, easily blown away by cynicism and disbelief.

He shrugged and smiled. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was, um... sort of busy, I suppose.’

Kate leant across, took hold of his left hand and smiled. ‘Well, I’m pleased you’re back,’ she said, with what seemed genuine warmth. ‘It’s always good to have new blood in Atheenaton; I hope you’ll stay a little longer this time.’

Daniel nodded and risked a wry smile, as if to alert Kate to the fact that he was on to the charade and yet happy to play along with it. But he did not receive the equally knowing response that he expected; it was as if Kate’s inquiry were genuine.

Daniel could hear music playing in the background, but to his surprise it was not the sound of the bouzouki but something altogether more contemporary and energetic, suggesting that somewhere inside the taverna was a dance floor. Exactly the sort of thing, mused Daniel, one would expect if one were staying at a holiday resort.

Daniel frowned. Was that what Atheenaton was? Certainly the warm air, exotic scents and lively atmosphere all suggested a holiday atmosphere.

‘Is it this busy every night?’ Daniel took another sip of his drink. It really did taste exceptional.

‘More or less,’ said Kate, waving to a young couple sitting at a nearby table.

‘Where do they all come from?’ asked Daniel, dispensing with the straw and drinking the cool, delicious liquid straight from the glass.

‘Oh, around,’ said Kate enigmatically, then swiftly changed the subject. ‘Barry makes a great cocktail, doesn’t he? Have you met him?’

‘Barry? Yes, I met him earlier.’

‘You must go and say hello to him; he’ll be so pleased to see you again. I expect you’ll find him inside.’

Daniel hesitated for a moment. He still felt a little uneasy, and had not yet adapted to being back in Atheenaton. Kate picked up on this immediately and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

‘It’s okay,’ she said softly. ‘I won’t disappear.’

Daniel nodded and smiled, a touch reluctantly. ‘No,’he said, ‘but I might.’

Kate laughed. ‘Trust me,’ she said, then made a little shooing gesture with her hand. Daniel grinned, placed his glass carefully on the table and, making sure he didn’t trip up on anything or bump into anyone, walked into the taverna.

In contrast to its appearance when Daniel had last seen it, the inside of the taverna was now bright and cheerful; small wall-lights complemented candles in the centre of each of the dozen or so tables that filled the place. On the right-hand side of the spacious interior was the well-stocked bar with its long, polished wooden counter and a few tall bar-stools. Behind the bar stood Barry, busily mixing a drink in a stainless-steel cocktail shaker,.

‘Hey, Daniel! Good to see you,’ he boomed across the bar as soon as Daniel appeared. ‘Here, let me get you a drink. What are you having?’

Daniel approached the bar and perched on one of the stools. ‘Whatever you’re making, I guess,’ he said. ‘Are you this busy every night?’

‘Hey, didn”t I tell you it livens up at night? Stick around; it only gets better.’ Barry emptied the contents of the steel shaker into a tall glass and topped it up with ice. ‘There you go. Good health, Daniel. Here’s to you.’

‘Cheers,’ said Daniel, and raised his glass to Barry.

Around him, the seated people ate and drank and talked above the background music. Daniel wondered how much ’time’ had elapsed since his last visit; he was surprised that, unlike his previous visits, he had not entered the dream at the same point where he had left it, and felt slightly cheated. He hoped he hadn’t missed anything important.

Once again Daniel wondered where all the people had come from. Where did they live? Why hadn’t he seen them during the day? He hadn’t seen anything like enough accommodation in the village to account for all of them. Was there another village nearby? Did they only come out at night? There were so many questions.

‘Have you lived here long?’ asked Daniel, reaching into his pocket and finding a pack of cigarettes. He offered Barry a cigarette, took one for himself, and only then noticed that the packet had been full; he also found a couple of five-hundred-drachma notes in his pocket.

‘About four years,’ said Barry, ‘O came, I saw, and I stayed. You know, once you find a place like this, it makes it tough to go back.’

‘Back?’

‘Yeah, back home.’ Barry did not elaborate, but looked towards the doorway and nodded. ‘You seen Kate yet? She was looking for you.’

‘She’s outside,’ replied Daniel. He wondered what it was that he had said that had caused Barry to change the subject so swiftly. Clearly there were rules in Atheenaton that you transgressed at your peril. ‘Will you join us for a drink?’

Barry smiled, relief evident in his expression. ‘Thanks, Daniel. I’d love to but I’m kind of busy right now. Maybe later, okay?’

‘Sure.’ Daniel tried to cover his disappointment. He wanted to continue talking to Barry, wanted to know what he was doing in Atheenaton, what had brought him here. Daniel realised how bizarre these thoughts were; was it possible that he wanted to interrogate the characters who populated his very own dream? Already he was starting to see these people as real, independent individuals. It was impossible to think of them as figments of his own imagination, They seemed so...
complete
.

‘I’d better get back to Kate before she starts wondering where I am,’ said Daniel, downing the contents of the glass and getting up from the bar. ‘Thanks for the drink.’

‘My pleasure,’ said Barry, filling the shaker with another assortment of liqueurs and fruit juices. ‘I’ll catch you later.’

Daniel stopped by the door, resisting the impulse to wake himself out of his present environment by pinching himself hard. It was all too strange.

Back on the patio, Daniel found Kate circulating among the tables, her unmistakable laughter - a rather dirty guffaw - penetrating the night air at regular intervals. She seemed very popular, and Daniel wondered what it was she actually did in Atheenaton. For that matter, what did any of the people seated around the patio on this warm evening do?

He saw Kate beckon him over to a table in the far corner, where a young couple appeared to be busily engaged in conversation. Daniel wandered across and joined them. A few fireflies glowed in the dark beyond the patio.

‘Did you see Barry?’

‘Yes. I tried to persuade him to join us but he was rather busy.’

‘Works like a slave,’ muttered Kate, then quietly, so that the others would not hear, added: ‘But he loves it. Couldn’t survive without the Pumphouse you know; his life’s desire.’ She patted the seat beside her and motioned for Daniel to sit down.

Only then did he really notice the young couple. Having done so, he found it impossible to take his eyes off them. They were both, quite simply, beautiful.

‘Daniel,’ said Kate, and gestured towards the young man, ‘this is Kostas. He lives up in the hills behind the village.’ Daniel reached forward and offered his hand. Kostas, who looked as if he might once have been one of those deeply chiselled stone statues of a young Greek god, brought to life by a sorcerer’s spell, rose to his feet and returned Daniel’s formal handshake. His movements were sure and elegant, as were his clothes: dark navy slacks and a plain white silk shirt open at the neck to reveal a neat triangle of tight, glossy black curls. So thick were these tufts of chest hair that they suggested a body covered almost entirely in black fur. For a moment Daniel felt oddly threatened by this stranger, whose bestial, overtly sexual physique put him in mind of the Priapus of Greek mythology, with his satyr’s horns and huge, erect phallus rising from a thicket of goat hair.