Last night I had a very compelling dream , so engrossing and bewildering that I couldn’t rouse myself from it and it seemed that I had been dreaming it all night long; now I’ve awoken much later than usual and I’m still thinking about the dream and what it means. I haven’t even had breakfast yet (such as my breakfasts are). I took a shower, dressed and came straight out to the studio and my computer because I’m afraid I’ll forget it if I don’t write it down soon.

I dreamt that I was walking along the river beach at Teignmouth (three miles from Dawlish and to where my family first came to live from Australia). The skies were dark and foreboding as if it was evening but the beach was crowded with strangers to me; yet I wasn’t alone, I carried a smiling baby of about six months. It wasn’t my son, James, or the twinkles in my eyes that never made it, but my baby brother, Robert, and I was carrying him as a child does, with my arms crossed around in front of him and his arms over mine. I walked past shops (that don’t really exist on the river beach) that had lights on inside and each time I tried to enter one the light went out and the shop was closed. I lost “Robbie” and searched to no avail for what seemed hours…

Suddenly, I wasn’t on the beach any more, I was at Mary’s (my sister) watching a video of myself on the river beach and the sun had come out. I was so relieved that I hadn’t lost Robert after all. I tried to wake up but the video kept going… and my eyes were transfixed.  And I wasn’t alone at Mary’s place – a roomful of people watched with me as my life as a beach-babe unfolded. Every time a new boy came on the scene someone would ask, “Who’s that, Sally?” or “Oh Sally, was he your boyfriend too?” or “I don’t like the look of him!” I wanted to wakeup. I couldn’t wake up… At last the sun appeared behind the bedroom curtains and brought me back to reality.

Now that I’ve written it down it doesn’t seem so bad and I understand it all. Robert sounded a bit down when he sent me an email a couple of days ago, and when he was a small boy, much adored by his elder sisters, he had said that coming to England was  “like the lights goes out”. Before closing down my computer last night I found that Mary had sent me a beautiful piece of writing, which she had written years ago after our special Paris trip together (that had similarly inspired me to write an essay). Admittedly, I went to bed with a bad headache (after all my book printing frustrations during the day), it was late, and much later still when sleep came to me eventually. Yes, of course, my book – very soon about to become available in hard copy!  Many aspects of my life before you – out there – impossible to take back… What a nightmare!