Dream World (8 page)

Perhaps, she reflected, she had ended up in Paris because that was where she had parted from Dexter, thus making it the obvious choice for their next meeting. The only thing was, he had intimated that the next time they meet, the location should be a secret one. Kate drummed her fingers on the table top. Where would be the perfect venue for a dangerous liaison? She clicked her fingers; she'd got it. Closing her eyes she thought of another European capital. One that she had seen many times on TV as a very young child as it had featured on the news every time the Cold War had been mentioned.

When she opened her eyes she found a green door in front of her. Opening the door, Kate stepped through into Red Square. The sun was setting behind the Kremlin. She shivered slightly. The temperature was much cooler than it had been in Paris. She half thought about changing the season - the conditions were very autumnal - but that would mean dispensing with the fabulous fake mink coat that she was wearing. Beneath the coat, she was dressed all in black. It felt appropriate somehow. A chill wind blew across the empty square. Now, what she really needed was somewhere to meet Dexter. Initially, she considered conjuring up a bar, but that didn't strike her as classy enough, so she settled upon a five star restaurant instead.

Closing her eyes Kate decided that the restaurant should be located next to St Basil's. Feeling lazy, she couldn't be bothered to walk the few yards across the Square and so she imagined herself seated inside the restaurant, waiting for her lover to turn up. Before opening her eyes she put the final touches to the scenario. She pictured herself sitting alone in the far corner of the restaurant, a bottle of finest Russian vodka on the table in front of her. No, hang on, that wasn't right. Needing to keep a clear head, she exchanged the bottle of vodka for a cup of black coffee. Opening her eyelids the scene unfolded in front of her exactly how she had envisaged it.

Actually, not quite exactly. Unwittingly, her sub-conscious had added a couple of minor details. Two members of staff hung around behind the bar casting occasional admiring glances in her direction. Pretending that she hadn't noticed, Kate deliberately crossed her legs, allowing the skirt that she was wearing to ride up her right thigh just far enough to flash a glimpse of stocking top. One of the young barmen nudged his colleague as if to say, ‘Did you just see that?'

Kate fought back the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. There was no way that the dark, mysterious character she envisaged herself to be at that moment would give in to such frivolity. Keeping her eyes firmly focussed upon the entrance of the restaurant, she willed Dexter into her dream and was confident that he would appear at any moment.

Half an hour later and still no sign of Dexter, Kate began to wonder what on earth was wrong. A faint feeling of unease grew within her. Did his absence indicate that she wasn't fully in control of the dream? Just as she was about to give up on the scenario and change it for another, the red door to the café opened. So, her concerns were unfounded, he was simply making her wait. Right, she thought, two can play at that game. Eager to convey her dissatisfaction, she picked up a drinks menu and refused to look up at him, burying her head in the wine list instead.

The person who had just entered the restaurant didn't cross over to her table immediately, but kept her in suspense by ordering something to drink from the bar. Kate's heart pounded in her chest and she felt her pulse rate quicken. So that's why he had kept her waiting, to heighten the feeling of anticipation. Finally, and not before time, footsteps approached her table. Oddly enough, the noise they made didn't sound like a man's shoes. They sounded much more like a pair of high heels. Dexter wouldn't be wearing stilettos, would he? Not unless he had gone in for a naughty bit of cross dressing! Still refusing to look up, Kate heard her companion pull up a chair and sit down opposite her. Her heart raced faster than ever. Then she heard the distinctive sound of a cigarette being lit. That couldn't be right, there was no way she would have imagined him to be a smoker. Finally, she looked across at her companion. Kate found herself staring at one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

The woman sitting opposite Kate must have been at least six feet tall. She had long black hair that elegantly cascaded down onto her shoulders and the bright red lipstick and heavy mascara she wore perfectly offset her pale white skin. It was her eyes that really stood out though. Not quite green, not quite grey, they shone with a lustre that make up artistes would have died for. The woman took a long drag on her cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring.

‘Expecting someone?' she asked, in a distinctive Russian accent.

‘Who are you?' Kate replied.

‘Not that it's any of your business, but my name is Nadia Petrova, now, if you will be kind enough to answer my question please.'

Forcing herself to reply with a calmness that she didn't really feel Kate said, ‘My name's Kate Phillips and, as this is my dream, you better treat me with respect or else I'll make you leave.'

To Kate's chagrin, Nadia didn't seem overly impressed by this piece of information.

‘We have reason to believe that you have arranged to meet a dangerous criminal here. Someone we have been tracking for quite some time.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' Kate said.

‘Really? So the name Dexter Norris means nothing to you?'

Ah, Kate thought, so whoever this Nadia is I've created her as an obstacle to overcome before meeting Dexter. What a clever sub-conscious I have, she mused, rather pleased with herself. Feeling much more comfortable with proceedings now that she thought she'd got a handle on what was going on, Kate settled into the scene and decided to enjoy it for what it was worth. ‘What was that name again?'

Nadia stubbed her cigarette out, grinding it into the glass ashtray forcefully. ‘Dexter Norris.'

‘Dexter Norris, Dexter Norris,' Kate repeated, trying the name out for size. ‘You know, it is vaguely familiar.'

The tone of Nadia's voice lowered a notch. ‘It's only fair to warn you, Ms Phillips, I strongly advise that you do not play games with me.'

‘And why's that?'

‘Trust me,' Nadia said. ‘You really don't want to know.'

‘Is that a threat?'

‘More... a friendly warning, let us say.'

Warming to the game, Kate decided it was time to up the stakes. Focussing hard upon her right jacket pocket she imagined that there was an automatic pistol hidden there. To her annoyance, as the thought crossed her mind, Nadia smiled, as if she knew.

‘A neat trick,' Nadia said, ‘But two can play at that game.'

Nadia clicked her fingers. Kate reached for the gun in her pocket, but her hand never got there, for the two waiters suddenly appeared behind her and took hold of her arms. As Kate struggled to break their grip, Nadia reached into the coat pocket, withdrew the gun and placed it on the table.

‘What is it with you British and the Walther PPK? James Bond uses one of these. God knows why. An ugly little weapon, I've always thought.'

Fast losing control of the situation, Kate decided it was time to leave. Unable to resist a parting quip she said, ‘Das Vedanya, comrade,' before closing her eyes and imagining herself back at the café in Paris. She took a deep breath. Mmm, was that fresh coffee she smelt?

‘No,' Nadia replied, in answer to the thought that had crossed Kate's mind.

Opening her eyes Kate discovered that Nadia had lit another cigarette. The beautiful Russian spy proceeded to blow smoke in Kate's face, causing her to cough.

‘How did you do that?' Kate asked.

‘What?' Nadia replied.

‘Read my mind like that.'

‘Oh, you'd be surprised at what I can do,' Nadia said, picking the gun up off the table. She checked that the weapon was loaded then aimed it at Kate's chest. ‘Do you ever die in your dreams?'

Growing more disconcerted by the minute, Kate struggled to break free of the arms that were holding her. Her efforts proved to be in vain. ‘Please, let me go.'

‘Then tell me where he is,' Nadia said.

‘I don't know,' Kate insisted.

A slight frown creased Nadia's brow. She shrugged, then her finger closed upon the trigger. Fear prevented Kate from conjuring up a blue door. All she could do was stare into Nadia's implacable grey / green eyes. Kate found herself wondering what it felt like to be shot. She also wondered if it would snap her out of the dream. She dearly hoped so.

Before Nadia fired the door to the restaurant opened and in marched an armed Dexter. He raised the handgun that he was holding and yelled, ‘Drop it.'

Calmly, Nadia turned and fired at him. He threw himself full length behind one of the tables. The bullet appeared to whistle harmlessly by.

‘Get him,' Nadia hissed.

The two waiters who had been holding Kate released their grip and ran across the restaurant.

‘Get out of here, Kate,' Dexter shouted.

He hung around just long enough to see Kate summon a green door and disappear through it. He then raced out of the restaurant and across Red Square, the two waiters in hot pursuit. No longer concerned with Kate, Nadia calmly strolled across to the doorway of the restaurant. Dexter was all that really mattered to her.

Kate shivered as she snapped out of the scene in Russia. Though part of her had been quite scared by the scenario, another tiny part of her had found the experience thrilling. She could tell by the way that the adrenaline was pumping through her veins at a rate of knots. Taking a series of deep breaths she forced herself to calm down. She hadn't even had time to look around and see where she was. Compared to the setting in Russia, the nightclub in which she found herself was so bland it could have been any club in any city in Britain. Examining the venue a little closer Kate discovered that she recognised the place. It was the very same club she and Sylvia had visited the previous Saturday night. Kate guessed that her sub-conscious had selected somewhere safe and familiar after the high drama of her Russian escapade. It was the perfect spot to relax and have a bit of fun in.

The club was much quieter than it would normally have been on a Friday or Saturday night, so Kate did a quick circuit and searched for Dexter. It quickly became apparent that he wasn't there, which was a real shame, because the rousing shoot out in Red Square had left her in the mood for a bit more excitement, albeit excitement of a different kind. On more than one occasion she had read about how stimulating some people found danger, yet had never really believed it until that moment. Retreating to the bar she focussed upon Dexter and willed him to appear. Sadly, no matter how hard she tried, he remained conspicuous by his absence.

The fact that she didn't seem one hundred per cent in control of her dreams that night still didn't make sense to Kate and she made a mental note to ask Richard about it when she awoke. That could wait though. First things first. She wanted a boogie, she wanted to be kissed and if things went well she wanted...

‘Can I get you a drink?'

The voice that made the offer was a familiar one. Before turning to see who had addressed her, Kate tried to place it. Who else had she met recently who she fancied? Gary, of course!

‘I'd prefer a dance,' she replied.

Happy to oblige, Gary led her across to the dance floor. As he did so, Kate noted that her imagination seemed to have improved upon mother nature slightly because her dream Gary was fractionally taller and slightly better looking than his human counterpart. Upon reaching the dance floor she discovered Clive and Sylvia there too.

In spite of the fact it was Kate's dream, Sylvia was doing her best to remain the centre of attention, dancing around in a highly provocative manner. Determined not to let her best friend have it all her own way, Kate began to dance just as outrageously. The high heels and super short skirt she was wearing certainly helped. Both enjoying the challenge, the two girls wiggled their hips and shook their booty for all they were worth, much to the delight of Gary and Clive. The dancing grew ever more competitive until it reached the point where Kate and Sylvia abandoned their respective dates for the night and indulged in a face to face, or rather, a hip to hip, dance off.

By now it wasn't just Gary and Clive who were watching, but most of the clubbers. Whilst Kate and Sylvia ground away to Lady Ga-Ga's latest track, patrons clapped, whooped, whistled and hollered their approval. As the track drew to an end, Sylvia raised the stakes by taking Kate in her arms in order to steal a kiss. Kate hadn't realised just how turned on she was. As their lips met she thrilled at the kiss.

A huge cheer of approval went up from the crowd. Playing up to the audience, Sylvia broke away from the kiss and thrust her arms aloft, as if she had just won
Strictly Come Dancing
. The way that she proceeded to strut around, giving people high fives, irked Kate somewhat. It was bad enough to be upstaged by Sylvia in her waking life, but to be upstaged by her in her own dreams was too much. Right, Kate thought, it was time to put a stop to this.

So, when the next track came on, as Kate resumed dancing with Gary, she focussed her thoughts upon Sylvia. A mere matter of seconds later Sylvia tapped Kate's shoulder.

‘I'm really sorry,' Sylvia said, ‘only something has come up and I've got to go. You don't mind, do you?'

Kate did her best to act the innocent. ‘That's such a shame.'

‘I know,' Sylvia shrugged. ‘Never mind, catch you later.'

As Sylvia left the club Kate felt slightly guilty, but the feeling soon passed as Gary whisked her around and took her in his arms for a bit of old school style dancing. As their bodies ground together Kate could feel exactly how much Gary was enjoying himself as she pressed against him. She smiled at him to show that she approved. He pulled her even tighter towards him and rubbed himself against her thigh. Kate loved feeling him grow hard against her leg.