“I saw you in a dream,” I tell her. “You made me apologise to some old guy in a restaurant; although I never managed to finish the apology; he kept getting up and walking away. It was like I was starting but never finishing”
Fran turns to me and says, “See, Elton John was right; sorry does seem to be the hardest word.”
I shake my head. “It was all kinda nut-so; you’d sent me over the market to pick up a couple of things - one was a piece of software (I think it was to do with imagine creation, editing and manipulation; but I’m not really sure); the other was a CD or DVD set with hundreds of pieces of music on. I think you were wanting me to do something - pick some tracks and make my own Cds; although it was never really obvious why.”
“Really?”
“Yes. When I woke I was wondering if you were going to have me sell them on ebay or at a car boot; I think you were trying to help with my money problems.”
“Everyone has money problems, I’m not sure turning to a life of piracy is the answer.”
“I know Fran… but look at the clothes they wear, so flamboyant; and the parrots, eye patches and peg legs. Adventure on the high seas.”
I cover one eye as I say this and hobble, swishing an imaginary cutlass about - slicing through the air.
“Yes, you’d make a good pirate.” Fran concurs, “but still… ” She gave me that disapproving look; the one you get as a child from a teacher but sticks with you forever - the lowering of the face so her eyes peer over the tops of her glasses.
“I know,” I say, “I’m being daft; but it was there. And the guy; he was like a cross between Ken Livingstone and Mr Miyagi “
She continues her stare; I can feel that you’re being foolish feeling rising through my body; my cheaks reddening.
“I know you think I’m nuts, but that is how it was. I’d bumped into him when you were taking me to your house - for some reason, as we ran along the back streets of terraced houses, we ended up in a restaurant; the sort of thing that wouldn’t be out of place in an American show or film. Kinda like a cross between the bars and restaurants in Mickey Blue Eyes and Cheers“
“And you were actually in this dream?” she asks, “instead of feeling like you were watching a movie or something?”
I nodded. Quite a lot of my dreams I felt … disassociated from while they were happening. Even if I could see myself in them, it was like I was watching; an observer rather than a participant.
“But I don’t think I could control it; I was seeing through my own eyes. I may have caught my reflection in mirrors a couple of times, it was definitely me.”
“How did it make you feel?” she asks, “I know you put a great importance on what you feel in your dreams; you know, rather than what actually happens. Like you could be murdering someone, but if you feel happy then it’s actually a good thing? Or something like that.”
I laugh and nod.
“You’re right; I’m not sure what I was feeling. I was feeling a bit confused in the beginning - right when I was looking at the things over the market. I think there was a note on the Cd/DVD box saying ‘put something interesting here’ - almost like instructions.”
She nods.
“and then, when you turned up and grabbed hold of me. It was remenicent of that whole London to Brighton thing they do with the speeded up camera. I felt okay, but like I wasn’t in control. Like I was just going with the flow - or maybe being dragged along at high speed.”
She nods again.
“I think that’s why, when we got to the restaurant; which I didn’t really understand - I didn’t think you lived in a restaurant”
“I don’t”
“but I think that’s why I was bumping into people left, right and center. I think all the rushing had made me eager for whatever it was we were going to do.”
She gives me a look.
“No, not sex; I think you were going to show me how to use the software and show me what I had to do.”
“oh”
I smile, not that I wouldn’t mind having sex with Fran; she was beautiful - but our relationship had always just been platonic and we’re never really gone further than just being friends; sex always complicated working relationships and friendships. At least, that’s what I’ve found.
“Then when you made me apologise, I felt ashamed. Like a naughty boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. But I also recognised that you were right; I was acting out of character and really wasn’t myself. It’s not like me to not be polite when I can, even if I am in a hurry.”
She nods, “You’re one of the nicest people I know; I think I would raise an eyebrow at you if you started acting like some sort of idiot.”
“I know; I knew it was the right thing to do. But then I was getting really frustrated when he kept getting up and ignoring me. He’d come back and look like ‘are you still here?’ and I’d have to start again. It was like he didn’t value my time or care about what I wanted to do.”
She smiled as she listened. Fran was a wonderful person, I’d known her such a long time; helped her through some tough things at work, supported her, encouraged her and cheered her on. I’d watched her blossum from a shy co-worker to someone filled with determination and fight; who grew in strength and confidence as she grew in ability. She was great.
She turns to me after it’s clear I’m not really going to be saying anything else.
“I think that you’re dissatisfied with something in your life. I think your feelings about being pulled along and not being in control are very valid. I think you’re feeling it’s changing you.”
I nod.
“I think that there is someone or something in your life which; I think you think it’s important. Maybe it’s something you’ve committed to. But it’s something you are starting to regret and wish there was an easy out.”
I nod again. “I can see that,” I agree,” it does make sense; and a lot of my recent life hasn’t really been all in my hands. People have been making decisions for me, telling me what to do; where to go. Who to speak to. All those sorts of things.”
She smiles, “Also, I think it is really important this thing about you not feeling valued. You being there and making a really big effort, only to have it ignored; or you have to start all over again without any real acknowledgment. I think it is really frustrating you.”
I nod.
Work and Lizzie had been on my mind a lot recently, as had my money woes. Her words were making sense. I just wish they weren’t.
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