Return to Wardate (33 page)

She was in no
fit state to think about her recent experiences, she was far too
overwhelmed - but that’s what Nuttall meant by developments. That’s
why he could no longer keep her fastened in her own subconscious,
why he had to sacrifice his life and the only world he knew.
Madeline had briefly noticed an anomaly and instantly disregarded
it – she couldn’t remember seeing any children.

Another four
months had passed without Adam having his girlfriend’s company. He
had been at her bedside several hours, every single day since she
regressed and fell back into a coma. Her coma returned because of
the build up of toxins in her brain, the first step of her
treatment was to remove these toxins. In Madeline’s subconscious
world this was represented by removing 27 whole life prisoners.
This she did effectively without a lot of effort on her part.

Her strength
was rapidly returning; she sat up in bed. Reality flooded in and
once again bombarded her senses. The thing about dreams is that
when you’re in them you don’t know you’re in them. You have no idea
that it isn’t reality until you wake up and then you know. She
examined her hands – no lasers in any parts of her fingers. She
rubbed her thumb and forefinger together – nothing happened, no
menu appeared in her sight. She was normal and human and pregnant.
Adam took her hand, her human, perfectly normal, soft, warm hand
and squeezed it. They had so much to talk about so they said
nothing. She would be weak for some time and now pregnant, special
care was essential. The perfect person to advise her on
rehabilitation entered the ward - a familiar and comforting
face.

‘So, my most
favourite patient, you decided to join us at long last,’ said
Doctor Barton.

Poppy pulled
him towards her and gave him a hug.

‘Thank you for
everything,’ she said.

‘You don’t know
what I’ve done yet,’ said the Doctor.

‘You never left
my side, I know that.’

‘This young
man’s the one who’s never left your side,’ said Barton.

‘I hope you’ve
looked after my precious bump while I’ve been away,’ she
taunted.’

‘When they
found out you’re pregnant, they got in an American nutritionist.
She put you on a special diet, mainly fish and coconut oil,’ said
Adam.

‘You know I
hate coconut, it makes me heave… I’m not that fond of fish either!’
Poppy complained.

Then Poppy
realised the implications of what Adam had just said, it explained
much of her dream away.

‘Coconut oil…
Coco Nuttall!’ Poppy laughed.

‘Don’t tell me,
someone in your dream by any chance?’ suggested Adam.

‘Nuttall, he
was my nemesis, pestered me all through my dream, turned okay in
the end though.’

Now she knew
why there was such hatred focused on the Americans. It was an
American nutritionist who had made her consume coconut oil and
fish. She hated coconut and she wasn’t particularly sweet on fish
either. From the beginning it was Nuttall controlling her every
move. Later she found out Nuttall’s nick name – Coco – Coconut oil.
Many of the people in her dream had fishy surnames: Coley, Bream,
Star, Alfonsino, Grayling. Everything was rapidly falling into
plaice.

Just like
before when she was previously in a comatosed state, little things
were picked up, latched on to and absorbed from the true awakened
world which measurably affected her inner conscious. Poppy
succinctly summed all this up in as fewer words as possible:

‘One hell of a
dream… again!’

‘No doubt
you’re going to tell me all about it?’ said Adam.

‘What made me
finally come out of my coma then? I know I had to climb up a
mountain to get to you.’

‘We tried a
radical new technique – using a sleeping drug,’ said Doctor
Barton.

‘Okay, you’re
not making sense but I’m listening.’

‘A drug called
Zolpidem…’ said Barton.

‘Get away, no…
Zol Pidem, he got me to Everest.’

‘Who’s
Everest?’ asked Adam now getting confused.

‘No, Everest’s
a mountain, Zol Pidem… Zol, he flew me round the world a brilliant
pilot.’

‘…If I can just
butt in for a minute,’ interrupted Barton, ‘Zolpidem… it’s a drug
usually used to treat insomnia but has been found to sometimes be
effective for patients in a comatose state.

‘Well he… it
got me back,’ said Poppy firmly.

This time Poppy
had successfully figured out the principal parts of her elaborately
fabricated subconscious world, herself. Last time Adam had to
explain it all to her but this time it was merely down to toxins,
fish, coconut oil, and a drug for insomnia. There was one element
of her dream that hadn’t been cleared up but was about to.

‘That noise,
isn’t it bothering you?’ complained Poppy.

‘What noise
might that be? Can’t hear anything’ said Adam.

‘That
irritating high pitched whistle,’ said Poppy.

There was only
one thing that could be making the noise - Doctor Barton turned off
the life support monitor, it was completely unnecessary now.

‘Is that
better?’ asked Barton.

‘Thank god for
that.’

The high
pitched whistle coming from the monitor – the ultrasound, had
profoundly influenced her dream. Barton and Adam couldn’t hear the
whistle because its frequency was beyond their hearing range but
Poppy was younger – she could. For four months Poppy had suffered
in silence - tolerated the high pitched sound right next to
her.

Chapter 52:
Return to Digg

This time,
convalescence wouldn’t be rushed. Poppy was kept in hospital for a
further week. During this time, many faces fitted into place.
Doctors, nurses, specialist, physiotherapists all had faces that
had at some time appeared in her long dream. Of course, their names
were different - named after types of fish. Some of the nurses,
cleaners and tea ladies were the whole life prisoners who all had a
fateful end. It would have been inappropriate to mention this to
them, they were all really friendly and kind people. Adam brought
Poppy up to speed with all the important news in the last four
months. Top of the list was his football team, Bristol City FC
(whose kit happened to be mostly
red
) thrashing Premier
league Chelsea, 5 – 2. Of course Poppy knew all about it although
she was sure the score was higher than that, more like 210 - 2.

Finally Poppy
walked out into brilliant sunshine and crisp fresh air. She was no
longer an android, no longer had she super powers and no longer had
she a legacy. She was human, free and expecting. Adam held her
tightly and protectively even though it was totally unnecessary. He
steadied her over kerbs and down steps and into his car. Poppy
certainly wasn’t going to complain, how could she? Everything about
her fiancé was perfect, even his beard was now growing on her as it
had on him. At last she was going to marry him – the makings of a
family were imminent. He was to be Daddy and she was to be Mummy –
this was more serendipitous than anything else, even a walk along a
babbling brook or tea and scones – she was entirely happy again.
Life was so wonderful.

There were a
few places she wanted to visit, the first place was Buxton. She had
never been there before but no matter, that’s where she wanted to
get married and this they did. Not in a church but in the indoor
gardens of the Pavilion. Adam never questioned her reasoning even
though Buxton was well over a hundred miles up north. Even though
it was July, it was cold, sunny but there was a distinct nip in the
air. Several guests squeezed in amongst the plants and around the
fish pond, they were just a few of their best friends and close
relations. Poppy wore the most beautiful carnation pink wedding
dress complimented with white leather boots and a short white
leather jacket. For reasons only known to her, it was her wish to
be dressed like this and everyone genuinely agreed that she looked
stunningly beautiful. Poppy’s mother stood with Poppy and Adam’s
father stood with him. The Vicar did his part, Adam said a few
important words – so did Poppy, they were pronounced husband and
wife and kissed. This was all they ever wanted – nothing more.

Poppy was well
known but she had recently learnt that fame is rarely ever a good
thing. A wedding down south would have attracted hundreds of
television associates, network cameras would have been there, Adam
would have felt pushed out and the wedding would have been
ultimately shallow. In Buxton the marriage was perfect, complete,
meaningful and everlasting.

The ‘do’
afterwards was in a quiet pub across the road. A speech or two was
made, the cake was cut and that was that. Mr and Mrs Manning left
in the Volvo - it was now just as much Poppy’s as Adam’s – one of
the many benefits of marriage.

Their honeymoon
was another surprise for Adam. It was a place Poppy had to go to, a
place she had only ever been to in a recent dream. In her mind it
was paradise - bleak, remote and wild but never-the-less, paradise.
Adam drove, the satellite navigation was set; he followed its
instructions to the letter. They didn’t say a lot during the
journey, they didn’t have to but they held hands when they could
and often Poppy napped on Adam’s shoulder. Radio 2 was playing on
the radio just like it was before but then Poppy was on her own and
she was Madeline. She wondered, hoped, imagined that her lovely
Professor friend really did live there but in reality she knew this
couldn’t be. She was a figment in her dream and lived there only in
her dream. Maybe the place wouldn’t be like she imagined, after
all, she had never been there in her life.

As a contrast,
the sky was clear and blue this time. The puddles had dried up but
the island was just as she remembered - imagined it. They pulled
into the small village of Digg just as the sun was setting.

‘Now where?’
asked Adam.

‘About a
quarter of a mile down this road, I think,’ said Poppy.

‘You’ve been
here before?’

‘Yes,’ said
Poppy inaccurately.

Finally the
house came into view, Adam pulled up outside. They both got out and
walked up to the front door. Poppy began to tremble.

‘You’re shaking
sweetheart,’ said Adam.

She didn’t
reply – she knocked on the door. As before the occupant took a
while to answer but finally the door opened. A well dressed old
lady stood shakily in the entrance.

‘Hi, I’m Poppy
Co… Manning, this is my husband, Adam. We’ve just got married. Your
name isn’t Samantha Johnson is it by any chance?’

‘Friends call
me Sam – call me Sam. I suppose you want to stay. Fortunately I do
have a spare double bed all made up.’

‘No, no, we
couldn’t possibly impose on you,’ said Poppy.

‘Get away with
you, I’d be honoured. I know who you are. We have television even
out here you know,’ said the old lady.

It was the most
perfect honeymoon and the most perfect place. Samantha was a lovely
old lady and a perfect host.

Naturally Adam
wanted to consummate their marriage – it had been along time for
him. Unfortunately Poppy had a headache but she assured him that
there would be lots of other opportunities. Adam didn’t seem to
mind at all – oh yes he did!

Poppy thought
about her dream world. She had, indeed been a nymphomaniac in every
respect – ravenous for sex at every opportunity. Adam, on the other
hand, had a headache, on and off for most of the time (although he
always obliged) – how upturned matters were in reality!

She also had an
issue about underwear – namely, the lack of it. This was something
she couldn’t immediately explain – perhaps she was a closet
exhibitionist.

The next
morning they walked to the cliff edge. It was just as Poppy, then
Madeline, remembered it, so peaceful and so serene.

‘So, how did
you know about this beautiful place?’ asked Adam.

‘Oh… I must
have seen it on a documentary or something.’

‘Strange that
you went to that particular house?’

‘Just had a
feeling there’d be a nice old lady there… You know, a normal dream,
you forget, dismiss it almost immediately but when you dream for
four months… It stays with you… it won’t go away.’

‘You don’t want
it to go away, you mean.’

‘I left another
Adam behind, he was you but he wasn’t you. I saw his tears – I
turned my back on him. I know it was all in my mind but I feel…
yes, guilt. I do want to forget but I can’t.’

‘Come on
Dorothy, you’ve clicked your heels… let’s climb down to the beach.
I challenge you to a skimming contest!’

‘You’re on, my
‘usband and no cheating!’

Both of them
scrambled down the sandy cliff path with playful laughs and joyful
screams. A perfect secluded cove awaited them, coated in perfect
skimming stones.

Eventually, by
a pure fluke, Poppy did an eighter – it may have been a tenner but
the last two bounces were too small and quick to count. Adam knew
he couldn’t beat that so he played some music on his smart phone.
They held each other and gently danced on the grey pebbles.

It was a
beautiful day.

Something she
had thought about before but there was no harm in thinking it again
- perhaps one day in the not too distant future she would settle
down here with Adam and drench herself in happiness.

Five months
later Poppy gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, they named him Zol
– Zol Manning.

Poppy never
fell into a coma again but often thought about her imaginary
adventures, the imaginary people she left there and about being
Madeline Bull, the feisty android.

THE END

Never doubt
that entire worlds with wondrous adventures can unfold in the
vastness and the deepest reaches of your mind.