Dreams Ltd (3 page)

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Authors: Veronica Melan

BOOK: Dreams Ltd
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That would be quite unfortunate… I thought angrily, regretting the absence of Brahms at the office.

 

“Leave the room, please” I said coldly. “I need to get dressed.”

 

“You have only twenty min…”

 

“I remember. And I’ll be ready by then.”

 

Men disappeared. Before leaving the room Lee asked if I there was anything else I needed but there wasn’t.

 

As my guests left me alone I sighed, unwrapped myself from the sheets and sat on the bed.

 

Is it worth trying to argue or try to make them find someone else who can give me more information I need? I pondered for a second. But those two men will force me into the can in twenty minutes anyway. If the bus really does go to “Area 33” once every few days, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to catch it then? Who needs delays? Alright… To hell with all the questions. I’ll manage..

 
 

Twenty minutes later I stepped into the corridor. The two men that came into the room earlier were now waiting right outside the door. One of them was impatiently glancing at his watch.

 

“I’m right on time. Do not even think to reproach me.” I growled.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

They walked down the hallway and I followed them.

 

The car was waiting inside the underground garage. It was the same black colour as the one that brought me to the Corporation. I sat on a back seat and regretfully noticed that it’s not possible to see a thing through the tinted windows again.

 

What a conspiracy!

 

From the entertaining point of view I only had two things to do: change the temperature and move my leather seat back and forth. I got tired quickly of such a great diversity so I leaned back and closed my eyes. Meanwhile the car was speeding up. After a while the cabin of the car filled up with a smell of last year’s wet foliage.

 

It must be raining outside. Shame I can’t see it.

 

I felt sad thinking that instead of going in an unknown direction I could stroll down the street, go to a small and cosy café, buy some fresh buns and continue the way to my shop.

 

Oh, my God! I forgot!

 

I leaned forward and knocked on the partition that separated me from the driver. Little window lowered immediately.

 

“Could I borrow your mobile, please? I must warn my staff that I won’t be around for some time”

 

There was a silence for a few seconds, and then a hand with mobile phone appeared.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t say too much” the man warned me.

 

“As if I don’t know”

 

The little window went up and I started dialling Linda’s number.

 

She answered after a few long rings.

 

“Linda? Hi, this is Shereen. I wanted to warn you that I have an urgent trip now and won’t be able to come in today. In fact, I don’t even know when exactly I’m coming back. No, I didn’t have time to warn the others. So, you are in control now and in charge of the new collection as well. No, I don’t know when I’ll be back, perhaps in a few days… Please call “Divuee” and try to get a discount for us. Also Mr Oliver should call today. Arrange a meeting with him and pass the documents from the top drawer to him, alright?”

 

I was certain that Linda won’t forget a thing. Her punctuality and precision were borderline tedious at times, but it was much easier to put up with qualities like hers than deal with forgetfulness or even worse - negligence.

 

It’s a huge luck to have an employee like that. I thought while answering a thousand questions Linda was asking. At least I don’t have to worry about the store while I am away. A nice bonus for her won’t hurt when I get back.

 

“Linda, thank you for helping me with this and I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you earlier. I know you will take care of everything the best you can… What?” Her last question made me feel sad again. “No, there is no news about Alex. Yes, I’m sorry too.”

 

We were silent for a moment.

 

“Okay, I have to go now. I don’t have my phone on me now, but I’ll give you my new number as soon as I have it. Thank you, sweetie. Good luck to you too. Bye!”

 

I’ve pressed the “end call” button and looked at the tinted window. The conversation made me feel sad and I felt strong desire to get back home, make a cup of coffee, flick through some new magazines, enjoy the birds singing outside my apartment and walk down familiar streets. It’s been always interesting for me to see how other owners decorate their own displays.

 

Chin up! This trip has already started which means the end is now closer.

 

Comforted by this simple thought I leaned back and closed my eyes. I might even be able to get some sleep, recharge my battery before my ordeal continues? Yet again I thought that life can be exhausting sometimes. Many things have lost their meaning since Alex had disappeared. What am I fighting for? So many efforts, so many sleepless nights but so far nothing has come from that. Life has become dim and faded like an old photograph. Fragrances have lost their smells and all the sounds have got similar to a monotonous drone of an off-tuned musical band. What a miserable life. Who cares if I will miss couple of days in my shop? And what difference does it make where I am going now? The debt will be paid back. It probably won’t make me happy but at least one less load off my mind. Comforted by these thoughts I calmed down.

 
 

The bus stop looked grim.

 

A one-story stone building was painted in white and an old paint cracked was peeling off the wall. Maybe that was because of humidity or because of time. A few unwashed dusty windows that have not been washed for a long time were located on the perimeter but the lack of light bulb made it impossible to see the interior inside.

 

Where the entrance should be there was no door, only a hole. The door itself – lone and rusty - was lying on the ground in the puddle next to the building.

 

The scenery around the bus stop wasn’t pleasant for the eye as either: rare shrubs on the sides of the concreted area, muddy ditches where rainwater would flow, grey mountains half hidden in the mist were rising in the distance on the horizon.

 

Carrying the envelope and squelching through the puddles in water soaked shoes I approached the station. My luggage bag was dragging behind me; its two little wheels were making constant noise “sh-sh-sh-sh”. All the new items that I was given by the car driver were in there. He also told me that there was some money in my luggage bag as well as the package for Laroche and the envelope to be shown to the bus driver later. That was it. All my attempts to get any additional information such as “What kind of place is this and how can I find my bus” were cut with short answer, “This is the station you need and there will only be one bus. You can’t confuse it with anything else”

 

A group of people, most of which sat on their bags similar to mine - there was about thirty or forty of them, men and women – some older, some younger. Almost all of them kept quiet, waiting for the bus. Nobody paid any attention to me.

 

I stood there a bit further away from everyone else. I hid the envelope in the inside pocket of my jacket (after scrutinizing it I found out that it’s completely sealed) and started staring at the only road to the mountains on which I guessed, the bus should arrive.

 

To my right, covering the cigarette from the rain a man was smoking. He was the only one who gave me quick and unfriendly look and then turned away.

 

Trying not to turn my head too much I looked at people cautiously. Casual clothing - nothing bright or fancy: trousers, jackets, simple but comfortable shoes with no heels and mostly trainers. Almost everyone had a bag or a backpack. Who are these people? Are they the staff of “Area 33”? If it wasn’t for the pressing silence hanging over the place I’d think that they are employees of that closed city and now they are getting back there from a short break away. Judging by their faces they must really hate their job.

 

“Why is everybody so quiet?” I asked the man nearby.

 

He rewarded me with a strange look but didn’t reply.

 

Confused and a little annoyed - if he doesn’t want to talk I won’t force him - I turned away.

 

“I'd rather work there than anywhere else ...” Suddenly I heard his voice “Don’t you think?”

 

Not really knowing what is he talking about I nodded vaguely and for some stupid reason added “yep”.

 

You’d rather discover what kind of job he is talking about before you agree to who knows what, I told myself.

 

“I also think that it’s better there” added another man and then went completely silent.

 

I’ve lost any desire to continue our dialog as well – who knows what kind of weird stuff I’ll tell him next? And what all this might turn into later? I don’t need any problems just yet, I just need to pass this bloody package to Laroche and be done with it.

 

I started rummaging through my bag pretending to be busy.

 

I’ll be alright without asking any question. Everything will become clear when I see the city.

 
 

At last - the bus, yellowish-brown with constantly creaking brakes pulls up at the bus stop.

 

People started hurrying and getting up from their seats to queue in front of the hardly opening snorting doors. But there was no rush visible in people’s movements. Envelopes just like the one I had in my pocket appeared in everyone’s hands. My neighbour threw his half-smoked cigarette into the puddle and reached for the bag to find the envelope; then shuffling with his old shoes, went to the bus.

 

I think it’s time for me as well; I followed his lanky figure with my eyes.

 

At this moment driver’s bold head showed out of the doors.

 

“Come here, folks – one by one, show me the bar-codes on your envelopes and get inside. And hurry up people!”

 

Those people who were still sitting on their bags rushed to get up. I followed their lead, found the envelope in my pocket and wheeled the bag to the end of the line. There were about five other people separating me from the guy I had a conversation with. One after another men and women were disappearing into the cabin of the bus – not very quickly, but not very slowly either. About ten seconds per person. Making small steps with my wet shoes and wheeling my bag behind me, I was approaching the doors. When the woman standing in front me went inside it was my time to show the envelope to the fat bus driver.

 

“With the bar codes up, I told you!” barked the bald man at me.

 

I quickly turned the envelope upside-down and yes, there really were interlocking black and white lines on the other side. Driver scanned the code, pressed some button on an attached to the dashboard screen and nodded.

 

“Get in.”

 

“How long is the ride is going to take?” I asked trying to pull my bulky bag onto the steps.

 

“Are you in a rush to get there or what? Can’t wait?” he laughed so loudly as if he heard some rude joke. “Get in, I said! Don’t hold the line!”

 

Feeling griped by such a reaction of the driver and kicking myself for the stupid questions I began to nervously squeeze inside. It would have been a good idea to get into the line quicker – now almost all seats were taken. Ah, to hell with them… Passing those who already took their seats from both sides of the aisle, I went almost to the end of the cabin.

 

Ah, there is one free seat left! Just for me.

 

I angrily pulled my bag towards me trying to roll it over someone’s belongings that were standing in the middle of the aisle, snuck to my seat and rolled my eyes for a second.

 

I’m so bloody lucky, aren’t I?

 

My recent acquaintance found himself a space to the left of a free seat.

 

Least of all I needed silly conversations during this trip.

 

Suppressing my disappointment I manage to fit my bag between other bags next to my feet and plopped down on the seat. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep a dialog won’t even start? It’s a pity I won’t be able to see the scenery from the window with my eyes closed but do I really need to see it?

 

Almost everyone from outside got on the bus. Some of them, who were behind me in the line, were now standing in the aisle trying to find a space free of luggage to put their feet. When the last passenger passed the driver the engine started. Bus, as heavy as a bloated whale, slowly turned around and with creaking springs crawled down the road up the hill.

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