Destined to Feel. Indigo Bloome

to me in a rather formal polished, French-accented voice.

      ‘Please excuse my staring, but are you not Dr Alexandra Blake?’

      Although slightly taken aback by her intensity, I answer, ‘Yes, I am.’

      ‘Oh, this is wonderful.’ She visibly softens. ‘Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lauren Bertrand.’

      She is immaculately coiffed, as only the French can be, dressed in a smart suit, matching pumps and handbag. She is an impressive-looking woman, a small powerhouse.

      ‘Oh, hello.’ We shake hands and it takes me a moment to search my memory for where I have heard her name before until it dawns on me that she is a member of Jeremy’s research forum. Ah yes, Doctor Lauren Bertrand. If I remember correctly I think her speciality is chemistry.

      ‘I work with Dr Quinn. It is so nice to meet you, welcome to the team.’ Her smile appears friendly but remains professional.

      ‘Of course, lovely to meet you too. Thank you.’

      ‘Are you on your way to London?’

      ‘Yes, my flight leaves shortly. Are you?’

      ‘I’m heading to Brussels for a meeting and then home to Paris for a few days before meeting up with the team in London. The research Jeremy sent through recently is intriguing on so many fronts. I am very much looking forward to our forum and working with you more directly. Such surprising, fascinating results …’ Her eyes drift over my body and she seems lost in thought for a brief moment. I redden at her appraisal and wonder exactly which results are surprising her so much. How come she has received them as part of the forum, and why haven’t I received anything? I can’t help but flush with embarrassment and disappointment at the thought of being on the other side of the experiment without any of the analysis to critique and review. I wonder if any of my clients ever felt like this during our sessions. Quite possibly.

      I’m thankful to hear my flight being called as the intensity of her gaze is making me feel ill at ease.

      ‘Well, that’s my flight. Safe travels and I assume I’ll see you in a few days.’

      ‘Absolutely, I look forward to it. Do take care, Dr Blake. I’m so pleased to have had this opportunity to meet you first-hand.’

      ‘Please, call me Alexa.’

      ‘Thank you, Alexa, until we meet again.’ She shakes my hand, this time with both of her hands cupping mine. I can’t decipher whether it’s from affection or possession. Weird feeling. I turn to leave as her cell phone rings and she answers quickly. Her voice is excited and clipped. ‘You’ll never guess who I’ve just bumped into … yes … she is on the next flight to London from Singapore …’ As I walk out the door as she gives me a quick wave and turns around to continue her phone call.

      Back on the plane and flying high, I happily drink a couple of glasses of Cape Mentelle Sauvignon Blanc Semillon. I do so love Western Australia’s Margaret River. The wine goes perfectly with my herb-encrusted fish and salad. And I can’t resist the delectable passionfruit cheesecake for dessert. As this is the longest part of my flight and I didn’t sleep on the first leg, I take great joy in donning my new, not very sexy, first-class pyjamas and socks, and flatten my seat into a bed to snuggle up against the fluffy pillow and warm blankets. I spare a thought for all those people travelling in economy, as I have so many times, and I hope they manage some upright sleep in the hours ahead. My palms moisten as I put the earplugs into my ears and I hesitate before deciding whether to use the blindfold provided. Just the thought of being blind again sends lascivious shivers down my spine and hardens my nipples against the soft cotton I’m wearing. I take a few deep breaths to temper the flow of heat rising within me and squeeze my legs together tightly to prevent the potential ambush. I quickly throw the blindfold towards the end of the bed, away from me; I’m obviously far from ready for anything to be covering my eyes after such an extreme experience last time. Although the thought of that blindfold, its silkiness, its lace … it sends me straight back to Jeremy and his tickling feathers, all over my body, his patience, my impatience … Oh dear lord. I must stop these thoughts. Thank goodness I’m in first-class so no one can see where my hands were accidentally wandering. Heaven forbid — on a plane, with people surrounding me! I fleetingly wonder whatever happened to that blindfold. Maybe Jeremy still has it?

      But at this moment I need sleep more than anything, not these intense, erotic feelings that need to wait another 24 hours until I am with him so they can finally explode to their passionate content. It’s as if the feelings understand that being put on hold will be worth the wait, and they subside enough to allow me to fall into a satisfying sleep.

       I am standing at my bedroom window in my negligee and glance over my shoulder to see Jeremy’s tanned, muscled body sound asleep in my bed. The strength of his back and his tousled, sleepy hair remind me of our recent intimate connection. I hug myself in happiness before stepping onto the balcony to see Elizabeth and Jordan playing in the garden. I smile as I wave at them, running and shouting around the willow tree. I step back inside and notice Jeremy is no longer in the bed, which is strange as he was sleeping so soundly just a moment ago. I walk out the door and downstairs calling his name, wondering where he could be. I enter the kitchen, which suddenly feels cold and empty and leaves me with a chill. I follow the draught down another set of stairs and trip over, tumbling further down, deeper and deeper. My negligee is filthy and torn and at the end of my fall I can barely move my legs, it feels like I could be wading in molasses. The stairwell above me goes on forever, too high for me to climb with my leaden legs. I scrape and crawl along the floor, commando-style, unable to see clearly where I am going. I instantly still in absolute terror when I feel something slither alongside my body. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I see the body of a thick, long snake. It pauses as if sensing my presence and my heart pounds hard and fast in my chest. Its forked tongue darts back and forth in its mouth, before it raises its head and moves seamlessly and silently onto the small of my back. I dare not breathe. Its weight is hefty as it follows down the lines of my body. I am frozen with fear as the length of its dark, thick body continues sliding leisurely between my buttocks over what’s left of my silky white negligee. Such a strange sensation, it’s as if its movement paralyses me. The last of its weight leaves my body and its tail finally smooths past my toes. It climbs up a phallus-like staff. Light is shining from above and I can see that it is bright green and gold in colour as it wraps itself around the Rod of Asclepius, the symbol for medicine and healing. I sense there is something mystical about the vision before me and I can’t help but be in awe of the snake’s presence — my previous fear is immediately replaced by a sense of peace and calm. At the same time I’m about to turn away, I feel painless drops of blood pool in my belly button before sliding directly downwards. Strangely, it gives me strength and I know I must continue on my own journey to the light. I head towards an archway, momentarily glancing over my shoulder to reflect on the path of my shedding skin. As I round the corner into the glimmer of light, my arms have become wings and my nose a beak. I carefully poke out into the air, spread my magnificent wings and fly, feeling my body strengthen with each passing second. I fly higher and higher into a majestic tree. My bird’s-eye vision fastens on an owl resting on another branch. It’s as if he nods to me and I acknowledge him by lowering my head in return. I see the world like I’ve never seen it before, so high, such perspective. As I tuck my wings back around my body, they brush against a nest full of eggs nestled discreetly into the hefty branch. One egg wobbles dangerously over the edge, as if in slow motion. I attempt to save it as my body leaves the safety of the branch and my wings lengthen to protect its fall.

      I wake up suddenly with the feeling I’m falling and gasp out loud, completely disoriented. What a weird dream. I don’t ever remember dreaming of animals. It leaves me feeling a little anxious and with a sudden sense of foreboding — as if there is a path I’m destined to take that could result in short-term pain for long-term gain. I shake my head to dislodge the mental images from my mind. I wish I had my dream book with me. Maybe I can find an app when I land that will help me interpret such vivid, colourful imagery. The lights shine in my eyes and breakfast is being served. I must have been asleep for a while. I change from my pyjamas back into my travel clothes and look