After the Dream

by Stan Mason

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As a result of the trip which should have been delightful, Diana returned home to England with a troubled mind. The last thing she wanted was estrangement from her sister yet Mac’s comment seemed to have upset the apple cart. She opened her front door to discover a large amount of mail and eventually sorted through them to find another letter from Ahmed. His message was loud and clear.

  My dearest Diana,

  I send my most humble condolences on the loss

  of your husband. I read about his death in the news-

  paper and I know how shocked you are by the event.

  My sister told me that you had visited me on your last

  trip to Agadir but I wasn’t here. I’m so sorry because

  I would dearly like to see you again. Dearest Diana,

  my heart bleeds for you. You know how much I love

  you and now you are free to come and see me. I want

  to be with you all the time. I’ll buy you a new house

  in the best part of Agadir to live with you for ever.

  Please come and see me soon.

  Affectionately, Ahmed.

  The envelope that he sent felt thick and she looked inside to find a photograph of him. He looked much older now that the years had passed by and she thought about the situation for a while. There were two barriers which had been demolished in double quick time. The first was that he now looked old that her, so age was no longer a consideration and the second was the fact that she was no longer married but a widow. Ahmed was definitely the man in her dreams but she didn’t dream any more. The rest of her mail was divided into bills, junk mail and letters of congratulations on her success at the polls. She now had her own bills to pay although she benefited greatly from her husband’s Will mostly from the sale of his apartment in London. She was now a rich widow capable of affording anything she wanted to do in life except for the fact that she had committed herself to five years of work in Parliament. Furthermore, with the reticence that she had already faced from politicians, she knew it was going to be a hard slog. However on reflection, she now had all the money she would ever need with at least another hundred-and-forty years of youthful life. There would be plenty of time for her to enjoy it.

  One of the letters that she opened made her smile. It was from a national cosmetic company which manufacture skin cream for women, inviting her to a meeting at their headquarters in London to discuss her appearance in an advertisement for television. They intended to portray a gorgeous-looking woman to influence others to use their product. How false was that advertisement because she never used any make-up whatsoever. When was all this deceit and folly going to end? Without hesitation, she tore up the letter with a wry expression on her face. She refused to lie to anyone for any reason. She realised, however, that the demands on her were increasing all the time and she began to dislike it intensely. It was so easy to be twisted and turned by fate in order to serve the needs of others. She needed to sit back and think more about herself.

  Despite her fatigue from jet-lag, she arranged to meet Jane, Samantha and Dr. Martin that evening for another game of bridge. At tea time, Jane approached her to make conversation.

  ‘How’s your memory holding up,’ she asked casually. ‘Are you remembering everything from your past now?’

  ‘It’s normal again,’ replied Diana sipping her tea. .No problems at all.’

  ‘Funny thing about the brain,’ intruded Samantha’ ‘It’s a computer inside our heads working away all day. It even works at night in our dreams.’

  ‘Dreams!’ repeated Diana slowly. ‘I used to dream but since my memory returned I don’t any more.’

  ‘It’s your brain’s reaction,’ stated Dr. Martin. ‘You will dream eventually. Your brain is catching up with events.’

  ‘I look forward to that time,’ returned Diana hopefully. ‘I used to enjoy my dreams. They were really good.’

  ‘Really good?’ echoed Samantha with interest. ‘What were they about?’

  ‘That would be telling,’ came the reply.

  ‘You little devil, Diana Templeton!’ reproached Jane laughingly. ‘You have dreams of love and romance and I bet there’s a lot of intimate activities.’

  Diana appeared to be somewhat embarrassed by the remark but she laughed it off. ‘If only,’ she lied. ‘Chance would be a fine thing.’

  After a while, Jane and Samantha discussed the play on one of the hands that evening while Dr. Martin sidled up to Diana to whisper in her ear.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you in private after the others have left,’ she told her quietly.

  Diana stared at the doctor vacantly. Why did she want to talk to her privately? Could it be something to do with the Red Cross? Or was it something to do with her new role in Parliament?

  When the other two women left, Dr. Martin invited her to sit down. She looked directly into Diana’s eyes and placed her hands down flatly on the green-baize table indicating her nervousness.

  ‘I want to know.......‘ she began firmly ending the sentence in mid-air.

  ‘Want to know what? Diana was confused at the remote approach.

  Dr. Martin hesitated for a moment before continuing. ‘How have you managed to stay so young and never age?’

  ‘I thought we went through all that a while ago. Who said I never age?’

  ‘Come off it!’ challenged the physician. ‘Jane knows it, Samantha know it and I know it. There’s something you’re not telling us. How do you keep so young. It’s uncanny. You’re nearly sixty and you look in your twenties. You have no sings of wrinkling....no crow’s feet...no bags under your eyes...your skin is perfect. There’s obviously something going on that you’re not telling.’

  Diana was rocked back on her heels. ‘I don’t have to tell you anything, Valerie,’ she countered sharply.

  ‘I think you do, Diana. Yes you do!’

  ‘What do you intend to do about it if I don’t?’ Diana was beginning to rally her thoughts, annoyed with herself because her reply indicated that there was something to reveal.

  ‘It has to do with your trips to Morocco, doesn’t it? You go there every six months. Why?’

  Diana’s resolve began to crumble. She found herself painted into a corner. She could refuse to answer any further questions and go home or face the consequences. ‘Very well I’ll tell you but if you repeat any of it to another soul I shall deny having told you. You must understand that. What I told you all was true. I’ve been involved in an experiment for the best part of fifteen years with tablets taken from the essence of two exotic plants which grow in North Borneo. I told you all this before but you didn’t believe me.’

  ‘What effect do these tablets have on you?’ The doctor was becoming very interested.

  ‘It keeps one looking young but there’s another benefit which you might find hard to swallow. I expect to live for two hundred years.. It’s all in the experimental stage but it’s been proved to work on animals. The scientist and myself are the only two human-beings involved in the experiment. Neither of us knows the full outcome. Maybe we will in a hundred years time or so.’

  The doctors stared at her in amazement. ‘That’s a most fantastic story,’ she retorted. ‘I don’t think you’ll need to wait that long. If it works on animals it will probably work on you. So he uses animals in his experiments.’

  ‘A hamster with a life expectancy of two years lived until it was twelve. On that calculation, a human-being would be expected to live until he or she was four hundred-and-fifty years old.’

  The physician exhaled noisily at the comment. There was a long pause as she thought about the prospect. ‘Can you get me in on this experiment?’ she asked with an element of hope.

  Diana pursed her lips in thought. ‘I can ask him,’ she replied solemnly. ‘The name o
f the scientist is Dr. Mahmoud. I call him the Wizard of Agadir. He has an office in the annex of the hospital there. He’s cured people of cancer and other diseases. One of my friends had terminal pancreatic cancer and he cured her after al the British doctors had given up on her.’

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d have a word with this scientist of yours,’ continued the doctor.

  ‘In the meantime,’ pleaded Diana looking at her directly, ‘not a word to anyone. I’ve already exceeded my remit by telling you. It has to be kept a secret or everyone will want to get in on the act. Is that clear?’

  You have my solemn promise on that,’ declared the other woman sincerely. ‘You’re right. The less people who know about it the better.’

  Diana went home that night with a heavy heart wondering if she had done the right thing. There was no getting away from the fact that the doctor had been most perceptive and followed her instincts through. Well she was determined not to mention anything to Dr. Mahmoud about it. He would be furious with her for revealing the secret to another person. He had insisted on secrecy. She needed to fob off Dr. Martin in stages, playing for time, letting her down slowly. After all what could her bridge partner do about it? No one would believe her if she told such a tale. They would think she was out of her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  There’s an old adage which says that a week in politics is a very long time and Diana learned that to her cost. She took her seat on the back benches in the House of Commons to be alienated by some of the other politicians. She had no idea why they had adopted such an adverse attitude towards her, assuming that she had failed to make any real ties with them having missed the first session of Parliament due to her trip to Americai. However their dislike of her soon became apparent when Duncan Redfearn, the Chief Whip, stood up in relation to a question on finance during Prime Minster’s Question Time.

  ‘Prime Minister,’ h began in a sonorous tone. ‘How do you intend to pay for the increase in Civil Service staff as stated in the White Paper you have just produced. You seem to have avoided that issue.’

  Before the Prime Minister could reply to the question in his usual gobbledegook language used by politicians to avoid a direct answer, Diana rose to her feet without the permission of the Speaker with a suggestion.

  ‘I have the answer to that one,’ she shouted from the backbenches to everyone’s astonishment. ‘You cease the activities of many of the quangos. The Government spends twenty five billion pounds every year on committees that do practically nothing for the nation. End the activities of most of them and you’ll have enough funding to reduce the rate of Income Tax Council Tax charges and leave a sum to benefit pensioners.’

  The Speaker stood up in amazement at the interruption. He had never witnessed anything quite like this before. ‘You are out of order, madam,’ he reproached angrily. ‘Please sit down. As you’re a new member, I’ll overlook your outburst but you should be well aware there are procedures which operate in this House. Make certain you understand them in future!’

  Diana sat down extremely angry at being rebuffed. If this was the way they ran Parliament was it any wonder the country was always in a mess. Procedures in the House! That was part of the problem. No wonder very little was ever done about the important matters that needed changing. Why didn’t they tell it as it is? She didn’t want any part of it. Her mind reverted to the Red Cross shop where she had been so happy. She didn’t need to stand for this nonsense! Without hesitation, she stood up to deliver a tirade causing other members in the House to groan and give way to their impatience.

  ‘I cannot understand why a person can’t speak freely in a country where free speech is supposed to prevail.’ she ranted loudly to the calls from other members to sit down. ‘If it is not, then this House is in conflict with the unwritten laws in this country which insists that it happens. But not here I notice. I demand the right to say my piece in relation to this question. If not, then I challenge this House to revise its procedures because they are contrary to the law.’

  The House was in an uproar with members waving notes and shouting for her to sit down. The Speaker went red in the face and stood up demanding silence.

  ‘Madam....will you kindly take your seat or I’ll have you removed,’ he barked irately. ‘I will not tolerate such conduct! If you persist I shall arrange for your eviction from this chamber!’

  His ruling was plain enough. She would be thrown out if she interrupted the proceedings again even though she was trying to help the Government in its quest. It was a cross too much to bear. After the session, Duncan Redrfearn came to see her, intending to advise her on proper conduct in the House.

  ‘You must observe the code of conduct or the procedures in the House will fall into disarray. Much of the good work we do is carried out behind the scenes with committees. What you see here is the tail end of the situation. It’s really all a game. We argue and poke fun at each other but the main work has already been done.’

  ‘Well forgive me if I don’t join in your game, Mr. Redfearn,’ she retorted angrily. ‘I want to do my duty as a politician not fool around nonsensically in an old boy’s club. What use is my presence here if it’s all a game?’

  ‘When you’ve been a member for some time and you’ve learned the rules, it’ll make more sense to you.’

  ‘How long will that take?’ she riposted. ‘Elections come every five years!’

  ‘There you have it,’ he told her politely.

  ‘I really can’t wait that long to represent the people,’ she reacted. ‘You can keep your seat in Parliament. I’ve got better things to do than be one of your sheep.’

  ‘If you refuse to come to the House, I suggest you report in sick every month. ,’ he uttered seriously. ‘We can’t afford to fight a bye-election so early after the General Election. It’s not on!’

  ‘Do the hell what you want,’ she snapped curtly not wishing to have any part of it. ‘I’m finished with politics!’

  She stormed out of the chamber, furious at the harsh way she had been treated. It was a ridiculous situation new politicians had to be silenced. It was the symptom of the problems facing the country that only experience members ingrained with the procedures and rules were allowed to speak. Fancy having to fight two more elections to get a foot in the door. It was unspeakable! No wonder her late husband had to work day and night to get somewhere in the political scene. It wasn’t worth it! She had achieved great heights, far more than most other women of her time but now it was over. When she next saw Dr. Martin she asked whether it was possible to go back to the Red Cross shop as the managers. At worse she might be accepted back as a volunteer staff worker now that she had abdicated from her political career.

  ‘There’s a problem, Diana,’ related the physician. ‘We appointed a new manageress when you won your seat in the House of Commons and we have a full staff of volunteers at the present time. To be frank, we thought we’d seen the last of you. I’m sorry but I can’t do anything for you at the moment.’

  Disappointed at the rejection, Diana went home to reflect on the situation. Destiny was a two-edged sword. It had offered her some wonderful opportunities to change her life and then had taken them away almost as quickly as they came. She had burned her bridges with the Red Cross...she had given up on politics....and she had disposed of the letter from the cosmetic company for a chance to become involved in a television advertisement. Not very clever for a woman who thought she was intelligent! One moment it was all going well for her with a little too much to control and then suddenly it was all gone. Well she could relax now and lead the life of a lady of leisure.....cruising around the world in a liner....taking exotic holidays in far distant countries.....doing anything she wanted! Perhaps after all that had happened, fate had decided the best way ahead.

  * * *

  After a month had past by, Diana realised that the stress
she had suffered had vanished. She felt as free as a bird, excellent in health as, as Dr. Mahmoud had predicted, it had been the stress which had cause her the malaise. She was visited by Robbie one day who seemed to be rather distressed.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘Is something wrong with Stella or the my grandson?’

  ‘No, they’re perfectly all right,’ he responded, sitting down heavily in an armchair. ‘If the schedule’s correct she’ll be having our second baby in a week’s time.’’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ she pressed stolidly. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,’ he told her.

  ‘About what?’ She was becoming frustrated at his prevarication. ‘Will you stop faffing about and tell me!’

  ‘I’ve just seen a photograph of the two of us taken outside the Conservative Party’s headquarters when you talked to reporters after you won the seat in Parliament.’ he continued.

  ‘What about it?’ She was puzzled as to what he was going to say.

  ‘Someone made a comment at the time which surprised me,’ he went on. ‘You look so young in the photograph they thought you were my sister.’