The clearing was unoccupied yet the sense of expectation, of invitation, was palpable. There was no doubt in my mind that I was recognised and welcome here. It made what I was about to do feel like treachery. I walked forward, knowing without looking that where the path had been there would be only snags and thorns.
"You've brought me here again." The emptiness ate my words. There was no echo, no reverberation. It was soft and smothering, like an unwanted aunt's embrace. "I can't keep coming here. You can't make me. You'll have to find some other way."
The temperature fell, deepening the chill.
"You again?"
I recognised Debbie's voice immediately. When I turned she was behind me, naked.
"Stay away from me." She hugged her arms around her, hiding her breasts. "I know about your sort. You're crazy. You need help."
I turned my back and ignored her. "Send her back. I will not touch her."
"You're completely barking. Mental, that's what you are."
Even as she spoke, her voice faded. I was alone again.
Then a new voice. "I must be asleep."
I turned, recognising the tone, the memory of an insistent cry and a weary voice roused from sleep, giving me a name.
"Helen?"
"Do I know you?"
She held the baby in the crook of her arm as it nuzzled into her armpit, making little whimpers. The naked child was cold in the exposed air, though Helen herself was dressed in a cotton shift. She had a practical, straightforward look to her that I had not seen in the photo. She gathered the baby to her and looked about, a sense of growing panic in her eyes. She was searching for somewhere to run, and there was nowhere.
"What is this?"
I didn't answer her. Instead I spoke to the pinpricked sky. "You can send her back too. I will not touch her, or the babe."
"Who are you talking to?" she asked. "There's no one there."
The babe began to mewl as the cold seeped into them both.
"Send them back, now. I do not want them here."
"I said, there's no one there." She was starting to sound angry.
I stripped off the silk shirt, undoing the buttons and then pulling it over my head.
"What are you doing?" Her voice held the edge of panic.
I approached her slowly, offering the black cloth bundle. "Here, wrap the babe in this."
She took it from me, hesitantly, understanding dawning on her face. As she lifted the child on to her shoulder it started to wail, but then quieted as she wrapped the shirt around it and cuddled it close, using her warmth for comfort.
"Thanks," she murmured, but the disquiet was still in her eyes.
"I have a message for you."
"For me? How? I mean… do you?"
"And a question."
She shook her head. "This is strange…"
"Let me get this right. The message is that there's a young man who's desperate to hear from you and wants to do the right thing, not just because it's the right thing to do. He's waiting for you."
"How do you know this?" Hope had lifted her voice.
"And Greg, the vicar, would like to know whether it's a boy or a girl, though I think I already know the answer to that question."
She smiled for the first time. "He's called…"
"Shhhh! Do not name him here. He's too young and far too vulnerable." I turned to the glade. "Let her go now. She has what she came for. Release her."
"Release me from what?"
I ignored her. "Let them go."
"It's only a dream," she said. "It'll finish when I wake up."
"Release them. You'll get nothing else from me."
When I looked back, they'd gone.
"It doesn't matter who you bring. I'm not feeding from them and neither are you. Now send me back."
The only answer was the deepening silence.
"You can't force me to stay. Send me back where I came from."
A new voice. "Where did you come from? Kent, wasn't it?"
The voice from behind me startled me, partly because it was male. I turned and found a man, dressed in shirt, tie and trousers, watching me.
"Who are you?"
"You don't recognise me? That's weird, because I recognise you. How is it that my dreams don't know who I am?"
"Your dreams?"
He started walking slowly around the ring of thorns, speaking as he went. "Yeah. I'm dreaming. I must be. It's the only way I'd come up with this weird shit."
I turned, following his movement. I was beginning to think I did recognise him.
"We did meet, didn't we?"
"Course we did. You were with that weird woman at the hospital, the fake witch."
I remembered then. This was Claire's friend who had been at the hospital last year when the Queen's Remembrancer had been taken ill. He was the friend who'd been in charge of security, the one with connections.
"You still think she's a fake?" I asked.
"You're not trying to tell me you think she's for real? I mean, I know you're a dream, but try and stay a bit believable."
"Claire's friend. The secret squirrel. Sam Veldon." I had the name at last.
"Friend no longer. Your witchy woman saw to that. Claire rang me the other day, you know?"
"I know."
"Course you do." He continued walking.
"How did you know I come from Kent?" I asked. I was sure it hadn't been mentioned in our original encounter.
"It's in the file. When she mentioned your name, I looked you up. She said you needed my help. Bloody cheek if you ask me. Personally I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, but I wanted to know why she was asking."
"And what did you discover?"
"Red flags. You're quite the celebrity these days, you know. Apprehend with caution, may be armed, possibly dangerous. You don't look dangerous."
"It says armed?"
"That's what it says on the file. I didn't write it." He completed his circuit around the glade, and continued without breaking step. "You were tagged amber after that policeman died last year. I didn't know you killed a policeman."
"I didn't. They didn't even charge me."
"Not what it says now. You've been hiked to red, possible murder, possible terrorist. Notify if seen."
"Will you tell them?"
"What, that you were in my dream? You think I'm nuts?"
"You're talking to me now," I pointed out.
"Got nothin' better to do. I'm asleep en't I?"
"Are you?"
"Course I am. Coulda done with prettier company than you, though. No offence, like."
"None taken. What else did the file say?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Well, me, since it's about me."
"Can't say. I've signed the official secrets." He tapped the side of his nose knowingly.
"Not even in your dream? I could be an extension of your subconscious, here to help you reach some hidden insight."
"You could be full of bollocks, sounds like." He laughed.
"Why do you think you're here then?"
"To puzzle it out, I s'pose."
"Puzzle what out?"
"The file references. They don't make sense."
"Which file references?"
"The one on your file and the one on hers."
"Who?"
"Alexandra, this daughter of yours. The one who's missing."
"She has a file too?"
"Course she does. Major incident, three dead at the scene. Sewer explosion. Biological contamination. It's all in there."
"Did it say where she is?"
"That's the thing. It's a B reference. So's yours."
"What's a B reference?"
"A reference starting with B. Other than that, no idea. Never come across one before. I asked one of the archive bunnies."
"You have bunnies?"
"The girls in Archives, or Knowledge Management, I think they call it now. Pity you're not like one of them. This could be a very different kinda dream."
"Think you're in with a chance, do you?"