Swap With Me

Chapter Nineteen. Dream

His tone of voice seemed to say, I don't want to talk about it, but Emily guessed his dream had a sexual content, otherwise why would he get an erection? He clearly didn't want to talk about it. Was this because he was too tired and wanted to leave it until the morning? The problem with leaving it, thought Emily, was that Scott would have forgotten what the dream was about. Any dreams Emily had were best remembered immediately on waking up, not leaving it, because the detail seemed to fade away, as time went by. She presumed it would be the same for Scott.

'Where were you running from?'

'Can't remember.'

Emily concluded that Scott wasn't going to tell her for his own private reason. She felt like saying, why the stiffness, or do you always have a hard-on when you dream? But she reasoned that ordinary dreams were unlikely to cause an erection, which meant Scott had been dreaming about sex. Why wouldn't he tell her? Why keep it a secret?

'Do you want the light out?'

'Yeah,' he said, as he moved his body, an indication he wanted to turn.

Emily decoupled, turned to her bedside table and switched out the light. Scott had moved on his side away from her. Soon he was back asleep. 

She lay for a while and contemplated why Scott would have a nightmare and not tell her what it was. She didn't believe his assertion that it was about running away from somewhere. He must be embarrassed or wanted to hold it as a private matter. Her mind went down some dark avenues, burning questions like, was he having an affair, or did he fancy somebody else? Why was he stiff?

-O-

Scott looked at the guide map of the Freedom Trail. It gave a plan of the route around Boston, and connected the important landmarks of historical interest. As they walked, Scott had found the street map with it's road names, and crossing points, had been difficult to follow. They sat for a rest in a cafe and spread the map on the plastic table and waited for their cappuccinos. They needed to talk slightly louder than normal to combat against the hollow noise of banter from another table.

Scott stabbed his finger at the road intersection, 'I think we're here, on the corner. When we leave, we turn left.'

Emily tilted her head, 'I can tell you're not sure.'

'I'm sure.'

'Why don't you check with somebody. Ask the waiter.'

'No need. I know where I am.' Scott leaned back and wished Emily would believe him. Besides, the tourist map should be bigger and give more detail of where they were.

Emily had a wicked smile and asked, 'why don't men admit when they're lost, or not sure of where they are?'

The coffees arrived and Scott folded The Freedom Trail Guide. He decided there was no need to ask the waiter, because he would check the landmarks when he got outside the cafe.

He said, 'I've done alright so far, checked the route, got you half way round, and didn't need to ask anybody.' He felt pleased with himself. There was a scrapping of chairs, and loud greetings from another table, as more of their friends came in and joined their group. 

Emily still had the smile on her face. 'I would have told you. If you had asked me.'

Scott wondered why she made such a remark, when Emily had never bothered looking at the route plan. He couldn't help the huff that escaped his lips. He wished he hadn't.

'Listen to me, my wise-all-knowing-surgeon-expert-on-maps lover.' She leant forward and lowered her voice. 'It's on the pavement.'

Scott felt slightly annoyed as Emily sat back with her arms folded. He had a bad feeling about what would come next and waited.

'The Trail is on the pavement,' she said, 'a red painted line which runs from pavement to street, across roads, up to monuments and carries on all round Boston, so that British doctors don't lose their way.'

Scott reasoned that Emily wouldn't say this unless it were true. He still needed to check and scrapped back his plastic chair and marched the twenty paces to the door, wrenched it open and stood outside. He looked down. A four inch wide, red painted line ran along the pavement in both directions, clearly there as a guide for tourists. He went back inside, past the rowdy group of seven people and sat down opposite Emily. He was still annoyed.

'She said, 'have your coffee.'

'Why didn't you say something earlier?' He gulped his large cappuccino with extra chocolate sprinkled on top. 'Well?'

Emily had a fit of giggles and couldn't speak. Every time she tried to talk, she had to stop to suppress more uncontrolled laughter. Eventually it came out. 'Didn't want to spoil the fun.'

Scott gave in and tried to hide the cramp in his stomach as he fought to control his own fit of clowning tears, as it became a struggle to say anything, his mouth in a permanent state of laughing. 'You're impossible, Emily.' He attempted to say 'impossible' again, but it came out as 'imposs . . . ' as each time he said it, brought more laughter from both of them. 

They suddenly realised the other people in the cafe had gone quiet to listen to Scott and Emily's ridiculous conversation.

-O-

Emily walked onto the British Airways flight BA214 ahead of Scott. She could feel his hand on her waist, reassuring, lovely. The stewardess smiled and directed them to turn left to Business Class. She felt she could easily get used to this. The luxury lounge beforehand, the free champagne, the canapés and attentive service. Emily didn't feel she deserved any of this, but she loved it anyway.

'You comfortable?' said Scott.

'Excited. No way am I going to sleep.'

'It's not the same as the flight here. That was daytime and we went back in time.'

Emily did a mental calculation. Their take off was for 7.15 this evening, in half an hour, and they were scheduled to arrive at 6.30am UK time. They would lose five hours on the difference in the clocks, she would get no sleep on the plane and have to start a new day. 'You think I'm going to miss out on all this luxury? Look at the menu.'

'As soon as we land I've got to get back to the flat, quick change, then over to Guy's for morning ops.' He lifted his champagne glass. 'So I need sleep after takeoff. Will you be okay?'

'Oh, I'll be fine working my way through the wine list, the three course meal and watching a movie or two.'

They toasted each other and to their return trip to Boston. Emily's seat was an armchair which went flat at the touch of a button. In her own pod, with it's noise baffled wall separating her from the other passengers in Business Class, she felt special. And it was nice to have Scott look after her.

The plane took off on time and Scott settled flat into his bed. She stroked his hair until he fell asleep. 

Her mind went round in circles. Excitement at the prospect of living with Scott in Boston, spending weekends together exploring the East coast up in Maine and down to Cape Cod. And maybe going to New York. They would have to find an apartment to rent and furnish it, and she would love to do that.

On the other hand, Emily worried at the prospect of living in a different country, without old friends, and she would miss London. Everything she had taken for granted in London would be swept aside to begin again in Boston; the London pubs, the quirky streets with weird names, the hidden markets which only locals knew about, and the history of London were all things she had not given a second thought to. Until now. And her best friend, Jessica . . . how would Emily cope without the fooling around and the understanding from Jess. They had known each other since school days and done swapping, which raised a smile from Emily at remembered past experiences.