As soon as Pamela had eaten as much as her stomach would allow, Mrs. Dewhurst said firmly, 'Here, you lay back down on your tummy and let me rub your back for a bit. You look like you're ready to drop off again.'
As Pamela drifted downwards into slumber once more, her guts began churning with anxiety, her thoughts tormented by half-remembered memories or impressions of violence and pain, and incongruously- water. But Mrs. Dewhurst's quiet voice and gentle touch smoothed out her pain until at last it became transformed from red agony and the terror of nightmares to the warm, calming, irrhythmic sparkles of tropical sunlight on a languid sea.
As she slept, a new dream came unbidden: she was walking on a beach, wearing a pale yellow summer dress, feeling the warm wind blowing, driving white breakers upon the beach. She was laughing, holding the hand of a little girl who was tugging at her to move faster, to catch up with . . .
Ahead of them, dressed in khaki-coloured shorts and faded blue T-shirt was Theo. He was deeply tanned and smiling, half-turned towards them with his hand open, waiting for Pamela and the little girl to catch up.
The child broke away from her, caught up with Theo and took his hand. The two then stood, watching her, waiting expectantly. But for some reason she couldn't move, as though she were rooted to the spot.
Theo and the little girl began moving away, slowly, giving her plenty of time to catch up. But still she couldn't move, and every instant they were farther and farther away. She tried her voice, but nothing would come. If she didn't move soon, they would be out of sight altogether. Though they moved slowly, somehow, inexplicably, they were already nearing the horizon. She knew that if they passed beyond that point, both of them would be lost to her forever.
In desperation, she tried to force her unwilling feet to move, but it was as though she were mired in quicksand. Theo and the little girl were now little more than two indistinct specks shimmering in the heat haze, a mirage that was beginning to flicker and break up.
'No . . . Theo . . . please, wait for me . . . don't go. Theo!'
Somehow, impossibly, he was right there beside her. He had taken her hand. She looked around but couldn't see him anywhere.
'I can't . . . where are you?'
She felt his other hand on her brow, large, warm, calming. 'Shush now. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.'
Strange . . . he was here, right beside her, where he had been all along. But the little girl was off in the distance yet-