First scene. My belongings -- books, notebook
s, money, keys, newspaper, who knows what else -- are pushed out of the way on the table or dresser
. Something is going on. I go to look for them? Anyway, I'm on the submarine
with my newspaper and notebook restored, and some confidence the others are safer.
There was more here, now gone. Towards the end I ask my Dad to drop me off back on dry land, so the submarine weaves back through the lanes marked off by buoys and between yachts, and drops me by the cottage door. I clamber out of the hatch.
Second scene. We're stopped at a traffic light and we, mainly my mother and I, see something odd about the car in front. It belongs to the man who... well I've never seen him (or his car) and we've never discussed it, but somehow I knew there was a gap in the first year or two of my life. This man... fostered me? Took me away for psychological experiments? Anyway, we're pretty cross now, Mother and I, and I'm out of the car on the side of the road noting down the model, colour, and number of the car. (It was red, and I was so clear about remembering them in the dream that I feel I ought to know them still.)
This turns to a jeering encounter. We were both angry with him and were hopping into him. He was out of his car defending himself: bouffanced hair, a small smarmy moustache. He was now trying to bluster and justify his actions of all those years ago. The car now behind him had...
We were assembled indoors now, and the car behind him had held his lawyer or more likely some kind of social worker or child psychologist. She was trying to turn the advantage his way, suggesting I had probably been turned into a homosexual by my treatment at the hands of my real parents. We retorted that it was much more likely that he was a paedophile.
The vilification continued and we got the upper hand. When he left, a small black dog, his fur had become matted, he had shrunk, and he was yelping, so piteously that I felt sorry for him and had to refrain myself from patting him to make it feel better.
I came inside, flung myself into a corner of the sofa, and sobbed.