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‘I don’t understand, what do you mean, ‘our favourite subject’?’ This with a degree of agitation. I think that she had a suspicion where I was going but she was still very suspicious and not very friendly. I think I understood how she felt but I needed to press on if I was going to be successful. ‘Well, I don’t want to talk on the phone, please, can we meet for lunch tomorrow?’ ‘Well,’ reluctantly, ‘all right. But I don’t really know what you are talking about!’ I mentioned a good café in the town and we arranged to meet at midday on Tuesday. The conversation finished with a still frosty goodbye from her and a cheery ‘see you tomorrow’ from me. Lunch was not going to be easy! That evening I told Jo everything that had happened on Sunday except about Maria. I wasn’t being secretive but I didn’t think that I should burden her with another problem when she was still trying to get over Steve. Perhaps after I had put my plan into action regarding her and Mike, I could share Maria’s story. Occasionally he would find himself confronted with some individual or other but, in his dreams, none had spoken to him. Until now.He was in a long corridor, white and cool but with a clear sense of heat beyond its walls. The stonework was pierced, decorative. Bas-relief carvings line the walls, elaborate scenes featuring improbable sexual antics featured at every turn.At the far end of the corridor he saw two figures both dressed in Indian costume. One, the man, beckoned him. The other, the woman stood quietly beside him.From beside them another two figures emerged. To their left Dr Strange, looking just as Steve Ditko had imagined him, stood square on to the corridor, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows raised in scepticism as Gregg approached. To their right, Mandrake, top hat in hand, stared down the corridor in silent thought."Swami?" Gregg was convinced that that was who his dream host was.The man nodded, acknowledging Gregg's question.Gregg went closer until the Swami held.
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