REM // Van McCann

60. I Think You're Onto Something

"Why would they give you shit for helping me?"

I closed my mouth, realizing I said too much and now she's curious. For her, there's nothing wrong with helping someone in need. She doesn't know why Bondy and Larry would give me trouble for it. However, she doesn't know that we talk about her when she's not here and I realize what we say isn't exactly the nicest. The both of us started out on the wrong foot but over time, we've earned each other's respect after getting to know one another. Bondy and Larry still think things were how they were before which isn't true but I've since learnt to keep my mouth shut, limiting how much they know. My mind tried to think of something off the top of my head.

"Don't you think they'll find it odd that you're staying with me but we're not dating or anything? I've no clue what they'll think."

"Oh," Florence replied, her eyes widening. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought that if you explained to them the situation, they'd understand. But I can see that now. It's—it's not a problem. I can keep this between the both of us but just note it's not my fault if they find out. Like I might forget and let something slip but it's never my intention."

"I mean—if they find out, there's no use hiding it. I'd rather they not know if I can help it."

After our discussion, I gave her a quick tour of my flat which wasn't necessary as she's stayed here before. The reason being was that I wanted her to get an idea of what she needed to bring and what could be left behind. It took some convincing to let her sleep on the sofa bed which I need to purchase as soon as possible. Even though she's a guest in my place, I don't like the idea of her sleeping on the sofa while I've got the bed but I get why she doesn't want the bed.

We had a quick discussion about the logistics of moving. We talked about when she was going to move, what she needed to bring and what could be left behind, and if there was anything we needed to buy with two people living here. Having this conversation eased both our nerves. We were nervous about living with each other. Having her stay for one day isn't the same as staying for one month.

"Oh, and there's one more thing," I added, right as she was getting ready to leave.

"What is it?" she asked, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

"I'm going to Portugal for two weeks at the end of this month."

I could see her trying to calculate how far away that was. It was in three weeks. It was extremely last-minute and I'm surprised I don't need to give an arm and a leg to go, but flying during the off-season helped. The funny thing is that the weather in Portugal—even in the off-season—is loads better than winter in the UK and Seattle.

"Are you gonna find her?" Her voice was faint. She knew this was a sensitive topic but she couldn't help but be curious. What business do I have in Portugal?

"I—I don't think her family's there anymore. Her dad is moved every year for work but there's no telling if she's buried there. I'm just going there to get answers."

Answers to what? That she's really dead? That all the dreams I've been having are real? Even though I had a feeling it was all true, I wasn't satisfied. Something was telling me to go there. Clara would've wanted it. Would've wanted me to see what it was like for her to live in Portugal. She wanted me to find the house she lived in and she wanted me to find the cliff she jumped off of. Maybe...maybe if I went there to see it myself will I understand the pain she was going through, the pain that I caused.

Florence was awfully quiet and that scared me. I'd rather she say something than not say anything at all. Did she think I was mad? But she's sat in on my dreams before—several of them—so she must know my dilemma. The only way I can move on is to see for myself.

"Do you know where to go?" she questioned.

"I've got an idea but I'm waiting on Roman to give me more information."

"Who's Roman?"

I paused, wondering if I should tell her about Roman. It was a breach of privacy telling her about other participants in the study but I'm overthinking things. I don't think Roman would actually mind. It's not like I'm telling her his deepest, darkest secrets or his second name for that matter.

"I've got two participants taking part in this study," I told her. "You and Roman. I went under Roman's dream one day and felt like I've been there before and it turns out I have—but only in my dreams. Turns out his wife is Portuguese and they go back to Portugal every summer to visit family. He told me the name of the place. Ponta da Piedade which translates to Point of Pity."

I suddenly wanted Florence to know about my plan. I wanted to go over it with her to make sure I wasn't insane. Roman doesn't know about Clara but Florence does.

"Wait right here," I told her, not even waiting for her to answer. I went to my room, opened the drawer to get my dream journal, and brought it out. "This is my dream journal. Every dream I've had about Clara is in this journal." I opened the journal to a random page. "For every dream I have, I start a new entry with the date. If something stands out about the dream visually, I'll draw it first and then I'll write what I dreamt about. Something told me that Roman would know where this place was so I showed him my sketches and guess what? He did. He recognized the cliffs and rocks and get this—he even recognized the house with green tiles." I frantically flipped the pages until I found my sketch of the house with green tiles. Florence took a look and her face was as white as a ghost.

"There's no way that house is real!" she shouted.

"No, but it is! He remembers that house. His mother-in-law showed it to him once saying that was her favorite house because of the green tiles. He's working on getting the address so I can—"

"Find Clara's house," she finished. "Oh my God. All of it is real then! What are you? Psychic?" I laughed, closing my journal and setting it on the table.

"I wish. I don't know why I'm having these dreams but I feel like she's trying to tell me something. It sounds crazy, I know. And you're the only person I can talk to about it."

"Am I? You haven't told Bondy or Larry?"

"No. Only you. So can you tell me if I've officially lost it? Is going to Portugal a mistake?"

"You've officially lost it but I think you're onto something."