[Links to parts One, Two, Three]

*

“Last night was the third time. He seems to be a fixture, I’m not sure why.”

“You’ve been living in a basement too long, Lala. My old man was a submariner most of his life and always complained about weird dreams.”

They had moved onto the floor to spare the couch’s antique springs and bow legs which had creaked alarmingly. Lara had pulled the couch throw over them and was now reluctant to extricate herself from the cocoon of warm stickiness binding her to Keith.

She nestled closer to him, trying to ignore the cramp creeping along her arm and shoulder. “It doesn’t feel like dreaming.”

“Sounds like a lucid dream. Something’s on your mind. The same old thing, going round and round.”

“It’s always slightly different. This time he was actually looking straight at me, but it was as if I wasn’t really there.”

“I dunno. Perhaps you should talk to a shrink about it.”

“Can’t really afford one at the moment. Anyway I’ve never liked them. The ones at the clinic in Arizona were horrible to me.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Dreams come and go and you’ll soon forget all about them. Perhaps he’s the shade of one of Oleg’s past conquests appealing for asylum.”