DREAMSCAPE

By Heidi Hallifax

Alex is an artistic woman in her early 20’s who lives in Edinburgh with her bubbly flatmate Lisa. One evening out with her best friend Chris, she finds herself wooed by Dave, a charming and handsome man. But her world turns upside down when another man appears in her dreams. The world where she is asleep becomes a place of adventure, beautiful scenery, and it is where she falls in love with Peter. But can you truly be in love with a man your own fantasy has manifested? Alex finds herself torn between reality and fantasy. Should she follow her heart or her head?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716346880

Book preview

Chapter 1 - Alex 

I opened my heavy eyelids to the sound of Radio One's DJ’s talking about epic films that they hadn't seen yet. Their light-hearted banter was easier on the morning ear than my previous deafening alarm had been. The soft cotton covers shielding my body from the chill air in the room wasn’t helping my motivation for getting up. Still - mind over matter. In the kitchen I heard my roommate Lisa putting the kettle on. Hey Lisa, could you make me a cuppa as well? I called out in a rough morning voice.     

    Sure, no prob, she called back in her sweet and positive tone. She was one of the most positive people I knew and was the perfect person to have around on a rainy day. Or any day! She was a messy little thing though, with a side dish of new dramas on a regular basis, especially when it came to men. But you could have the best time with her, always taking the 'serious' out of the equation. We became flat mates a few months ago when I'd just finished art college. She'd studied dance and was now on her last year. We'd met at a few parties and always got on so well. So here we were, in a little two-bedroom flat on Broughton Road, Edinburgh. Which is, in my opinion, the most historic beautiful city in the world, with its castle, its pipers, its many cafes, bars, festivals and rain…yes, it rained A LOT! But that was all part of the charm. I reluctantly pulled off the duvet, sat up with my shoulders hanging as low as my eyelids. Feeling slightly dizzy as I got up, I yawned and stretched, almost falling back into bed. Glancing out of the bay window I saw pedestrians stroll along on the streets, all in their little bubble of thoughts it seemed. I hugged my body as I wrapped my soft dressing gown around me. Even though it was the end of September and nowhere near winter, it still felt cold. I made my way to the kitchen, where Lisa was standing with her hand stretched out holding a big cup of tea for me. 

    Thanks Lisa, you’re the best.    

    No prob, hun, she said as she dashed off to the bathroom.    I sat there for a while sipping my tea and munching away on my morning piece of toast, enjoying the sweet and bitter taste of marmalade, waiting for Lisa to get ready so that I could get on with my morning routine in our bathroom. She was, luckily enough, fairly quick. She’d take her time in her bedroom instead. I splashed some cold water on my tired face, spilling some water onto the tiled floor. I bent down to wipe it up and almost hit my head on the way up. Despite the small layout it was modern, and the mirrored wall made it look bigger. I passed one of my own paintings in the hallway. It was a passion of mine, and I had a few hung up in the flat. The one in the hall was a favourite. It showed a dolphin in the sea swimming happily around water and music, as in music notes and instruments, all in vivid colours that all melted together. I was actually quite humbly proud of it. I felt strongly about all my paintings, but as an artist I could be very self-critical. I had worked on this particular painting for a long time, though, and it touched me every time I saw it. It woke a feeling inside me that was hard to explain. Like a fading dream. Whenever I was in the zone of painting, I became almost lost in it, forgetting time. I suppose some might call that a kind of meditation.     

    I stepped into my bedroom, trying to visualise what colour would look best on my walls. The yellow that was displayed now was not particularly tasteful. But I was renting so I didn't have much choice in the matter. Perhaps the landlord might let me paint something, I thought as I walked to the bed in the middle of the room. Although I’d need a ladder to reach the upper half of the high sealing, my thoughts continued. I stepped onto one of the pencils that had ended up on the floor as I opened the closet, grabbing a black fitted dress and tights, my normal work wear. I added some long dangly silver earrings and a silver bracelet that I had been given as a Christmas gift from my mum as a nice accessory to the outfit. I looked at myself in the mirror, brushing my dark long fringe to the side. The slightly curved bend of the ends reaching my shoulders. I gazed at my reflection and couldn’t wait to get some make up on my morning face. I powdered and used some bronzer to try and keep the almost-non existing tan from summer alive and put some mascara on, highlighting my hazel eyes. Using a rose-tinted lip gloss, I dabbed the lips slightly, not wanting to emphasise them too much as they were already naturally full. I had been told on occasion that I was pretty, but it was hard to take such a compliment, as my younger years had been full of self-doubt due to bullying. An ugly duckling growing up, as they say. I had been quite chubby at times. Some of the kids from school would call me things like whale, ugly, and fat, and in PE class nobody would want me on their team. I had started to lose weight in my early teens but, even when the bullying had stopped, the cruel words from those kids always lay there as scars that were only visible to me. And there are times where my self-doubt catches up, like a dark entity striving for my attention. I sometimes used those feelings as inspiration for my art. It was a good way of venting the past.    

I headed out, saying goodbye to Lisa on my way.  

    See ya later, Alex! Have a fab day! she sang from her bedroom. That's what most people called me - Alex, short for Alexandra. At work it was Ms Walker and if my mother was angry with me, it was always Alexandra! 

    I grabbed the bus up to the Royal Mile where I worked, looking out of the double-decker bus as my eyes followed each building as we were passing by. They were mostly old looking And grey. A lot of bay windows, which made them look instantly prettier and rather cozy. There was something so artistic about Edinburgh. The way it had formed over the years made it seem more like an interesting puzzle with hills, cobble streets, winding roads and a mixture of centuries-old buildings and buildings only recently built. It made for a fascinating view, one of which you never grew tired of.     I stepped into Costa Coffee to grab my bosses usual - black coffee, and a skinny latte for me. Morning coffee bliss! The sun hit my cheeks on the way out, making its grand appearance, so there was no need for the umbrella yet, making it that much easier to carry the takeaway. But knowing lovely Scotland, you could never be too sure when the next rain would appear, whether that be heavy, side-ways, drizzle or smirr.     

With coffee-infusion in hand, I walked through the golden framed door emblazoned with 'The Golden Art Gallery' on top of it, ready to begin the day.    

    Good morning, Christine, I said with a smile. 

    What’s so good about it? she replied with her nose in some mail in her hand.     

    Just good - good weather, good coffee, I said, rolling my eyes as I shut the door behind me. My boss was not the most positive person on this planet! I loved being close to art and felt like I learnt a lot from it, but it was never enough for Christine. She treated me like I was a complete idiot most of the time and I hated that, as anyone would. I knew I had a lot to learn but she was the kind of person that would give you a hard time for all the things you hadn’t learned yet. I thought it must make her feel better about her life, in some twisted way.    Her tall and tailored style made her look powerful. I had never seen her wear anything else but her black fitted skirt, white shirt, and high heels. I sometimes wondered if they were simply part of her body, like her skin. She would not smile for anything. Actually, that's not entirely true. She smiled for her little Papillon, a black and white dog called Adele. I liked Adele but I wasn’t often allowed near her - nobody was. Christine thought Adele would catch whatever bug was running around at the time. She was intensely overprotective when it came to Adele.    

     We’re very busy today, we have a few paintings coming in and I need to keep a clear head so no chitter chatter today thank you very much, she said whilst taking her coffee from my hand.    

    Yes, Christine. I will get busy with work and let you concentrate on what you do best. Just let me know if you need anything.    

If I didn't have this dream of owning my own art gallery, I would have quit that job within a month because of Christine’s behaviour. Still, I did learn a lot from her. She was strict and miserable, but she knew what she was talking about, and I needed the experience. She had worked her way up and she'd learned that you have to be tough in this world in order to get what you want. 

    The day went by smoothly. The afternoon wore on and closing time approached. It was four-thirty as I grabbed my jacket and scarf and left work, leaving Christine in the shop. Being the workaholic that she was, she always stayed longer than me. She was divorced and all she really had was her little dog Adele, who was sitting nicely by her side as she studied her laptop for something. She didn’t have any children and didn’t seem to have many friends either. I felt bad for her sometimes, imagining how lonely she must be. At thirty-six, she probably still had time to have kids, but that would mean finding a mate, which, in turn, would mean being at least a little bit nice to a man who could tolerate her and love her, despite her bitter attitude to life.

    It had grown chillier during the day, so I pulled my jacket around me to hug myself for warmth. I was sitting on the bus when my mobile rang. I dug for it in my beige bag and saw that it was Chris. He was a college friend. I know they say men and women can't be friends, but we really were just that. He wasn’t gay, either, or at least he was hiding it really well if he was. Chris was a good-looking guy with his dark blonde, tousled hair and his cheeky charm. He was currently working at a bank. He didn't like it one bit and kept saying 'it's only for a short time'. Chris just didn't know what he wanted to do in life yet. He had studied art with me in college and he had enjoyed it for the first few months until he’d dropped out. He had also wanted to be a musician, a pro surfer, a writer, a policeman. The list went on and on. He was always saying 'life is too short, how else am I gonna have time to fit it all in? I had to give him credit for being so positive about it. He didn’t stress about life, and I liked being around the energy he gave off.    

    Hey, Chris, what's up? I said as I answered the phone.    

    Hey Alex! There’s this band playing tonight at the Bongo Club! I know the bass player, they're awesome, and you’re coming! There'll be lots of hot guys for you.    

I chuckled. How do you know that for sure? Last time I didn't see any and I just got some drunk old dude trying to feel me up! Reckon I need therapy after that, and YOU should pay! I said.    

    Come on doll face, when you're as good looking as yourself, you got to be prepared for all sorts of men, even the weirdos, he replied.    

    Flattery will NOT help, Mr.! I barked.    

    But will you come out? Come on! It'll be great! I'll buy you a drink or four, whatever. 

I thought for a moment before replying. Hmmm, OK, actually, it might be nice with a wee night out. What time? I asked.    

    "Yay, nice! About eight pm? He suggested.    

    Cool, see you later. Bye.    

The thing I loved about Chris was that he always had some social thing on the go. When in doubt about what to do, one could always call Chris and he'd have a plan! Today was Friday, so going to see a band sounded like a perfect start to the weekend.     

The bus turned down Broughton Road as I saw a couple on the pavement holding hands and giggling. They must have been around my age. They looked so happy. I'd never been in love. Well, I'd been in love, but it had always been one-sided. I would be attracted to a guy, but he wouldn’t like me back or he’d be in love with someone else or it would be the other way around. I’d had a six-month relationship once with a guy named Tom when I was seventeen, but that was also one-sided. He had loved me for a while, and I think that's what I liked. I mean, who doesn't love being adored? However, he did like to party a lot and tended to smoke a lot of weed, amongst other things. One night, when he'd been out partying, he’d ended up sleeping with some random girl, and as much as I had tried to move on from it, I couldn't forgive him. It had broken the trust. I was twenty-two now and I had dated guys since then, of course, but it had never felt right, and it often never went past a second date. I pressed the stop button and walked down the stairs of the double-decker bus. It was loaded with people, filled with workers going home, most of them in suits. They all seemed to be in some kind of daydream, most of them looking tired and bored. I suppose they just wanted to get home so they could recharge a bit before heading back to a job most of them didn’t like. I felt so lucky to have a job I enjoyed, despite my nagging boss. I knew that was rare. I got off the bus and walked down the street into my building, up two flights of spiral stairs to my flat, the keys rattling as I opened our black door with the number six on it to let myself into the hallway.    

    Hello? I said, not knowing if Lisa was home or not.    She poked her little head from the kitchen doorway. 

    Hey Lisa, how are ya? I asked.    

    Great! Had an interesting day at college today. You know that guy I dated a couple of months ago? 

I frowned. Mr Tattoos? I asked with raised eyebrows.    I always gave Lisa's men nicknames. It was easier to remember them that way. This guy had quite a lot of tattoos, so the nickname became obvious. I walked into the white kitchen, passing the blue cupboards on my way to the small table by the large bay window where Lisa was sitting, getting ready to do her nails. Her dark red nail polish, a nail file and cotton pads were lined up like surgical instruments, waiting to be used.    

    His name is Andrew, she said with a slightly annoyed tone to her voice as she picked up her nail file. Anyway, he just showed up in my part of the college today. I mean, he's never anywhere near the dance studios, he just came to see me, she said with a big grin on her face. I walked over to one of the cupboards and took out a pan, filled it with water and took out some fresh pasta from the fridge. 

    I thought he had a girlfriend? I said with a worried expression.    

    Well yes, but they broke up and he wants to take me out tonight. He said he's really missed me.    

    Where does he want to take you? I asked.     

    Oh, just out to some party down by the Ocean Terminal.    

    OK, but be careful, I don't trust him. I mean, he never even told you he had a girlfriend until you'd been sleeping with him for what, three weeks? And the only reason he told you was because you saw that text. I don't think he would've said anything unless you'd caught him. I said.    

    Fine, fine, I’ve got it, Mom! she said as if I was, in fact, her mother. You don't know him like I do; he's so sweet, he really is!     

     OK, OK, take a chill! And more importantly, take a condom! I said as I winked at her playfully with a smile on my face. I didn't want to annoy her or dampen her spirits, but she had always had a tendency to get into trouble and hook up with weird guys. She was always blinded by them, falling for their charm, although I never saw much of it myself. Very naive, that lovely Lisa. I put the fresh pasta in the boiling water and took out a black plate that we'd bought from IKEA. We'd bought some things from there recently when we realised that the only two plates we had were damaged. A quick trip to the Swedish furnishing giant resulted in many non-chipped plates, wine glasses, and some nice cushions, making our little flat that much homier. I drained the pasta, put it on my plate, poured some heated pasta sauce over it before topping it with parmesan cheese, then sat down at the table opposite my flatmate.    

    I’m going out with Chris to see some band play at the Bongo Club. If you get bored with your date, just come see us there.    

     OK, I will. She looked at me curiously. Are you sure Chris doesn't like, totally love you? she said with a smirk. I laughed out loud, almost choking on my wine. 

    Nope, he definitely doesn't, he’s just a friend. Think he referred to me as being like a sister to him the other day and that kissing me would be really weird. Sure, he showers me with sarcastic compliments, he’s nice that way, but no, not a chance. I said as I swirled some pasta on a spoon and took a bite, tasting the sweet tomato

Reviews for DREAMSCAPE

[lemurkat · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Paul Kidd is a wonderful, fresh voice in fantasy - and perhaps because all of his recent books have been self-published, they have retained that sense of originality, and have not been editted to fit into a specific niche. "Dreamscape" is no exception - it takes the reader and slowly immerses them into the ideal, peaceful world of a young girl. With a surreal elegance, it portrays the world the way she conceives it - and it appears she shares some of Kidd's interests - wargaming, cafes, swordplay etc. After you have settled in and are enjoying the easy ambience, discord is introduced - slowly, innnocently at first, just a few indications that things are not all pearls and roses. Then more discord follows, until her delightful, delicious world risks total destruction. Or worse. Commercialisation. I cannot help but feel that Kidd's concept meshes rather neatly with my ideal of the afterlife.

There are issues of course. Mainly with formatting - the margins are not justified, leaving the right margin a raggedy mess of lines. And at one point the font size increases by one or two points for several sentences. The occasional typo slips through the editor as well - but none of these detract too much from the overall feeling of the book. Indeed, the only factors that actually bugged me were that the words "deliciously" and "gorgeous" were used on almost every page for the first third of the book and that his tortoise lived in a pond. And the latter could have been entirely Steel's fault.

It will not be to everyone's tastes - the slow build led me to wonder if there would ever actually be in conflict - the essential element for ever novel, anywhere. The occasional repetition. And it seems to be a little gamer-centric - somehow people who wargame, or what-not, have more worthy souls than, say, accountants (although he did give politicians a part - the key is passion, but who's to say an accountant can't be passionate about numbers?) and there is a reasonable population of furries, but it's entirely up MY alley, and I loved it. Thank you Paul, I've now gone and acquired some more of your books for my kindle - I am so happy you are still writing, and writing well.