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Happy St Patrick's Day. Enjoy the one day of the year when the whole world is Irish.

A Gryphon by the Tail Chapter 16

Started by Alkari, September 09, 2010, 02:40:17 AM

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Alkari

Previous chapter:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=522.msg2546#msg2546

Chapter 16


She moaned softly and ran her fingers through his hair.   His kisses trailed slowly down the side of her neck, travelled along her shoulder and back again, lingered a little before moving slowly lower, much lower ....

Richenda came awake suddenly, gasping.   Jesu, where had that dream come from?  She swallowed, staring into the darkness of her bedchamber and trying to compose herself.   She'd had several of these dreams lately, only not quite as vividly.  Images of Alaric swirled through her mind ... standing there smiling in sweat stained tunic with tousled hair - joking about shower spells and being naked – kissing her - the scent and feel of him as he cradled her in his arms while she sobbed for little Rhiannon – kissing her – the way his hands had glided over her as he healed her sore muscles after the hunt.   Alaric kissing her again.

She sighed and sat up to adjust the bedlinens and sleeping furs.  What had he said that first night when he'd come to her apartments?  She remembered their frantic, desperate kiss, how it had shaken them both, and his words about dreams –

"As I have been dreaming every night for the last six months ... Some of those dreams weren't particularly - restful."

Was he still having dreams about her?  Perhaps lying awake as she was, thinking about her?  It would be so deliciously easy to don her heavy cloak, slip out of her room and make her way to his apartments ...

Stop it! she admonished herself.  She would certainly need to visit a priest for confession tomorrow, though hopefully it wouldn't be Father Duncan.  She swung herself out of bed, waved a hand to light several candles and reached for her warm shawl.  A visit to the garderobe would help chill her body, if not her thoughts, at this time of night.  

She paused by Brendan's small pallet as she returned.  He was sprawled on his stomach, one hand reaching out over the bed to where Sir Knight had been placed on the floor.  Gently she bent to adjust the covers, easing his hand back underneath where it was warm.  His hair would probably become slightly darker than hers – not Bran's colouring, just with tawnier tones than her own.  She was glad now that his eyes had stayed blue instead of changing to Bran's gold/brown: at least he would resemble her side of the family in that.

She stroked his hair briefly, then walked over to the window, pulling aside the drapes to gaze out over the gardens.  Frost was glistening on leaves and lawns; the sky was clear and the stars were silver-chill.   I know you loved your son Bran, but when you threw in your lot with Wencit, did you ever think what sort of a legacy you'd be leaving him?  The name of a traitor, no matter what he does.   I can cope with it, but what about him?  

Little boys needed a father, or at least a loving father figure.  Brendan already liked Alaric, but how would he take to him as a stepfather?  And what would happen when he found out about Alaric's role in Bran's death?  Even though Alaric had now told her the merciful truth, it would be some years before Brendan was ready to understand it, and meanwhile he'd certainly hear stories from servants and others.  

Richenda shivered, let the drapes fall and climbed back into bed.  The relationship between her son and Alaric was bound to have its awkward moments, but they would just have to work things out as they happened.  As for Alaric himself – she smiled as she snuggled back under the covers, thinking of the 'secret' magical gryphon, and the afternoon down at the stables when he'd so patiently answered Brendan's questions.  Alaric Morgan knew what it was to lose parents at a young age, and he knew what it was to be hated or regarded with suspicion simply because of an accident of birth.  No, she had no doubts about Alaric.  She closed her eyes and slept dreamlessly until Lily came to wake her for early Mass.

Father Duncan officiated, offering thanks and seeking a blessing for yesterday's appointment of Bradene de Tourz as Archbishop of Valoret and Primate of All Gwynedd.   Bradene's appointment was hardly surprising, given his outstanding record and the fact that he alone had remained scrupulously neutral in last year's Church schism.   A scholarly voice of reason and moderation, a man to lead the process of healing the rift in the Church.  Richenda offered her own prayers that it also signalled a more balanced outlook after twenty years of prejudice and anti-Deryni persecutions under Oliver de Nore and then Edmund Loris.

Kelson, Alaric and Nigel disappeared after Mass to go for an early ride, so Richenda sat next to Duncan at breakfast, discussing today's election of Rhemuth's Archbishop, and the synod's progress after that.

"If Cardiel is appointed to Rhemuth, that leaves Grecotha and Dhassa vacant – and I suspect Arilan has his eye on Dhassa," said Duncan.  "After that, they need to review the remaining Sees and appoint some new bishops, so sessions will probably go well into next week. They have to tread carefully, as a couple of the bishops originally sided with Loris of course, even though they went back to their Sees after Coroth."  He sighed.  "There's an added complication.  Old Bishop de Lacey from Stavenham isn't at all well, and the physicians are worried about him.  He had a bad cough when he arrived, and has become worse.  I believe he's been unable to attend anything for the last three days."

"Do you think they can do anything for him?" she asked.

"I don't know.  He's an old man anyway – seventy seven, seventy eight.  I was very surprised when he said he'd come with us in a horse litter from Coroth on campaign.  I hope he recovers, but it's a cold winter, and I gather he's not strong."

"Then I shall pray for him" she said quietly, and Duncan nodded.  

The noonday meal brought news that the synod's morning deliberations had been curtailed and would resume in the afternoon.  De Lacey had taken a turn for the worse, and Bradene had paid him a visit, together with his old friend Wolfram de Blanet, while prayers were said by the other bishops.  Kelson had already sent the most senior Royal physician to assist, but things were not sounding too promising.  

Back in her apartments, Brendan watched her finish a short letter to her father.  He was making good progress with reading and writing, and insisted on signing his full name at the end of it, which he somehow managed with only one smudge.  "I want to write a proper letter too, Mama," he said as she sealed it.  "Can I write next time?"

"Yes, Grandfather would love to get a letter from you," she agreed, handing hers to Lily to deliver to the courier.  "You can tell him what you've been doing here."  

"I'll tell him I ride Joker, like Payne."  He frowned.  "I can't write 'Joker' yet."

"Well, I'll help you with the big words," Richenda assured him.  "We'll practice on your slate each night."  

Early that evening a page delivered a note from Alaric.  Richenda read it quickly and exclaimed in delight.

"Oh, that is wonderful news!" she said, smiling at the lad.  "Would you please thank His Grace very much for telling me so quickly."   The boy nodded and departed.  She turned back to the table, where Brendan had been carefully practising writing "J-O-K-E-R" while Joan was setting out his supper.

"My lady?" inquired Joan hopefully.  

"My uncle, Bishop Thomas Cardiel – you remember him, Joan, from Dhassa – he's just been elected as the Archbishop of Rhemuth.   His Majesty will be announcing it this evening in the great hall."  She smiled.  "Duke Alaric knows that he is my uncle, and kindly let me know as soon as word came."

"What's an Ar – an Ar Bishop?" asked Brendan.  

"An archbishop, Brendan.  Arch-bishop."  

He tried it out a few times.  "Yes. What is it?"

"A very important bishop.  You remember Bishop Uncle Thomas, don't you – the 'very big priest' in Dhassa?  Well, he's now been made the Archbishop here in Rhemuth.  So he's now even more important and he'll be one of the leaders of the bishops."

"Oh.  Like a duke?"  

"Yes, like a duke."  Richenda decided a simple answer was best when it came to ecclesiastical hierarchy, and indicated that Joan should serve the meal.

"Does he have a special ring?"  

Little boy logic never ceased to amaze Richenda as she tried to keep a few steps ahead of her son.  "He already has one.  When a person is appointed as a bishop, he is given a special ring and he keeps it all his life.  Uncle Thomas has his bishop's ring, and now sometimes he'll wear more important robes."

"Is his ring magic too?"  

"Certainly not dear.  It's a very holy ring, made for the Church, and it was given a special blessing when he was made a bishop.  Now come on, put the slate away and wipe your hands.   Your supper's ready."   Heavens - magical bishop's rings!  What next?  I may just kill Alaric for talking about his special magic ring.  Let alone showing Brendan the gryphon banner.  Just hope Brendan doesn't ask Uncle Thomas about magic.  

Judging by the reaction in the great hall following Kelson's announcement, Cardiel's  appointment met with great approval.  The recent schism in the Church had distressed many people: although the general populace were still extremely wary of the Deryni, many had been disturbed to find that Gwynedd's former primate and the late archbishop of Rhemuth had both been so ready to abandon their young King on a matter of religious dogma when Gwynedd was threatened with war.  The Bishop of Dhassa had always been respected for his commonsense approach to matters, as well as for his piety and learning, so his appointment to Rhemuth was both logical and welcome.

Richenda returned to her apartments after dinner, in time to tell a sleepy Brendan one more story and tuck him in before Duncan arrived to escort her to what he cheerfully told Joan was "a small gathering to celebrate Archbishop Cardiel's appointment."   Despite that fact that Father McLain was rumoured to be Deryni himself, Joan clearly approved of him.  Richenda waited until they were well down the corridor before speaking to Duncan again.  

"Just as well it was you and not Alaric.  Joan is still uneasy about me speaking to him – I'm sure she thinks he has evil designs on me somehow."

"I'm quite sure he has designs on you, though as far as I know they are still honourable.   And if they're not – well, perhaps I'm better not knowing the details!"

Several guards gave them routine acknowledgment as they came to corridor junctions, but there was no-one on duty outside Alaric's apartments.   Inside, a squire was setting out wine and refreshments on the heavy oak table; Alaric took her cloak and ushered her to one of several chairs set near the fire.  With no Brendan needing her supervision this time, Richenda was free to look around with interest.  There was an air of restrained masculine comfort: the room of a busy and practical man who appreciated quality but disliked ostentation.  Heavy drapes across the windows shut out the winter evening cold; there were thick carpets on the floor and tapestry hangings on the walls.  Two of them in particular caught Richenda's eye: one with an intricate tree and leaf design worked in rich shades of green, blue and gold that proclaimed it to be from southern Andelon, while the other was a superb picture of a black-armoured knight on a chestnut horse. She wondered if it was one of the previous Corwyn dukes.

Beyond the table was an oak bookcase flanked by large matching chests.  Heavy brass candlesticks sat at either end of the mantel over the fireplace, shedding light over several objects - a red jasper bowl and a bronze prancing horse, and a beautifully carved wooden cat that regarded her with detached feline amusement.  A few colourful cushions had been piled onto another carved chest under the windows.

Alaric poured wine for them all and took the remaining chair, stretching his legs out comfortably. "So – here's to our new Archbishop.  Never thought I'd be sincerely welcoming the appointment of a bishop, let alone an Archbishop.  I've usually been more worried about whether they're going to damn me as a heretic.  Thomas Cardiel is a welcome change.  May God give him strength and wisdom for what lies ahead."  He raised his goblet.

"Amen to that," replied Duncan, he and Richenda joining in the toast.  "Is he the first bishop in your family, Richenda?"

"No.  His uncle was a bishop in Bremagne, where he was ordained.  But he's certainly the first Archbishop," she smiled.

"At least we know he's open-minded about the Deryni," said Duncan.  "Though it's going to be a very long slow process to get the rest of the bishops to that stage."

"You know, I think he's quite intrigued about the Deryni.  He certainly seems fascinated about what he's seen of you, Alaric."

"He's got guts," said Alaric bluntly.  "When he saw me conjure handfire the first time, he stood his ground and allowed himself to see that it was harmless.  Not many people would do that, let alone a bishop. Probably better that he's mostly seen me working and not Duncan, though."    

Duncan nodded in agreement.  "Yes.  Things are going to be touchy there for quite a while. I expect most of the bishops would rather prefer not to think about my identity.  Does he know you are Deryni, Richenda?"

"No, he has no idea about me as yet.  When I returned to Dhassa with him afterwards, I managed to get him to tell me what happened when you got into Coroth and Loris was deposed.   I'm sure the rumours about just how the four of you appeared in the castle will only add to Alaric's mysterious reputation."   The two men chuckled.  "I wanted to ask him about what else he'd seen you do, but I've had to be very careful, because he mightn't think it was proper for me to be so interested in magic."

"Mmm - awkward," agreed Alaric.  "He seems ready enough to accept it all on a personal level, but the Church's own teachings are still very strict, and I suspect that some of what he's seen and experienced may give him the odd crisis of conscience."    He glanced at Duncan.

"He's almost in awe of your Healing ability though – he did talk to me about that."  She studied him, remembering the experience of his healing touch after the hunt.  "Alaric, how did you discover it?  You said it was at Kelson's coronation.  What happened?  I know there are supposed to be a few Healers left in Torenth, but even that is part-rumour, and their skills are a complete secret.  But if you and Father Duncan have somehow found them again ...   ?"  

"I was desperate.  The night before the coronation, there was an attack on the guard detail near Kelson's apartments.  After we sorted things out, I found Derry lying in a corner, nearly dead."  He closed his eyes briefly.  "I couldn't lose Derry too – not after Brion and Ralson.   I don't know what put it into my mind – just somehow remembered reading about an old Deryni power to heal people.  I didn't know what I was doing, I just – concentrated – used the Thuryn trance – tried to will him better."  He shrugged.  "I don't know why I thought it could work, but it did.  Somehow.  Here, I'll show you."

Duncan joined their mind-link, adding his own impressions to the picture.  She watched the events unfolding: Alaric healing Derry and then himself at the coronation, Duncan and Alaric helping one of Warin's soldiers in Jennan Vale, Alaric healing Duncan as 'proof' to Warin in Coroth Castle, small incidents since then as he explored this new-found ability.  And every so often, glimpses of something more: a shadowy face with greyish hair that was an impression or feeling more than an image.  

At length the contact dissolved and she sat staring into the fire, chin propped in her hand, trying to sort through what she'd seen.  Healing.  Of all the mysterious Deryni powers, the one that had been most valued and respected by humans, for the Lord himself had healed.  Yet even the Healers too had eventually suffered persecution, their knowledge vanishing for nearly two hundred years. Now it had suddenly reappeared in the hands of Alaric Morgan.  And also, it seemed in the hands of his priest cousin.  Were they the only Healers?  Could other Deryni have the power?  Could it be taught?  How?  Questions swirled around as she reviewed the experiences she'd been shown.

Alaric rose to refill their goblets.  She came back to the present, accepting a dried fig from a platter of delicacies he offered and enjoying its sticky sweetness.   "Alaric," she said as he resumed his seat, "who was the other person I saw?  I got the impression of a man – grey hair, I think."

"We think he was Saint Camber."

Saint Camber?  Camber of Culdi, the patron saint of Deryni magic, the one who'd reputedly discovered how to endow certain humans with near-Deryni powers.  Richenda glanced from Alaric to Duncan, then back to Alaric.  "Why would he appear to you?   What does he have to do with Healing?"

"We don't know," Alaric said.  "I had a – a vision, I suppose you'd say – when I first healed Derry.  Since then, both Duncan and I have seen the same sort of vision on several occasions, and he appeared at Kelson's coronation.  He was visible to the Deryni as Kelson was crowned, which means the two of us saw it, and probably Jehana.  Don't know what Arilan could see from where he was standing. Kelson says he sensed him during the duel with Charissa."     He sent her a brief memory of the shining figure they'd seen at the coronation, and the words it had spoken.

Richenda shook herself mentally, swiftly reviewing what she knew of Camber, which wasn't a great deal.  Even amongst the Deryni of her acquaintance, his name was not often mentioned.  But appearing in a vision?

"Well, you certainly don't seem the sort of person who'd normally have extraordinary visions," she mused.  

"No.  And on the odd occasions I have been drinking with Derry, I have never suffered from visions of saints," grinned Alaric.  "Duncan of course doesn't even do that."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "No. I know one or two people who are supposed to have had divine visions, but I'm not one of them.  And this is an entirely different feeling to a – spiritual – experience."  

The three of them were silent for a while, before Alaric rose and crossed to the bookcase.  He returned with two volumes which he placed on the low table in front of them.  He flicked through the top one and handed it to her, open at a picture of the face she'd seen in his memories.  "I was looking through some of Brion's stuff the night before the coronation," he said, "and I found this.  I hadn't read it before – it's the speculation at the end that intrigues us."

Richenda read it quickly, then looked up.  "He can't be alive, surely, after two hundred years," she said thoughtfully.  "Where was he buried?"

"No one is sure, it seems," replied Duncan.  "Part of the mystery."

"Where did he live?"

"The family home was at Caerrorie, in Carcashale," said Alaric. "But it's in ruins.  Thomas, the current earl, lives near Dolban.  I know him reasonably well and I've visited there several times.  But of course, the subject of St Camber never came up.

"There's a mosaic of St Camber in Coroth," he continued.  "In the little private grotto where Duke Dominic is buried.  I never really thought much about it until after the coronation.  I suppose it was preserved because the Dukes of Corwyn have always been Deryni, and it's in the castle gardens rather than the cathedral."  

"Would there be any information hidden away in Coroth?" she asked. "If the Dukes have always been Deryni, would there be any chance they'd have kept old documents?"  

"Not that I've found so far in the library and private holdings of papers.  Last winter I discovered part of a copy of Holbein's Acta Sancti Camberi, which the Church has condemned for many years – they tried to destroy all copies.  But it only deals with the first part of his life, up to 903.  The rest of it seems to have been ripped away, and some of the edges are charred."  He sighed.  "Maybe there's something in some of the religious texts, or maybe there are references in some of the biographies – it's going to take a while to research it all though, and I haven't had any chance for that sort of thing lately."

Richenda nodded, nibbling on some more sweetmeats and turning things over.  St Camber – who would have material on him these days?  There were precious few Deryni texts of any sort in circulation: the old Deryni families who'd kept their identity carefully hidden would certainly have hidden away any Deryni material, and would be very guarded in what they disclosed, even to fellow Deryni.  She wondered if there was anything back home in Rheljan – perhaps she could ask her father in her next letter.  He'd enjoy that sort of challenge, and perhaps eventually she could also ask Uncle Azim.  Who knew what could be hidden down there in Nur Hallaj?  Or what other Deryni he knew?   He'd certainly be fascinated to hear about Alaric's rediscovery of healing powers.  But that would have to wait for a while ...

"There's a Camber Chapel here in Rhemuth," said Duncan quietly.  "If you'd care to see it."

"Here?"  She stared at him.  "I thought they'd all been destroyed!"

"This one is very well-hidden," said Duncan, smiling.  "And as it's through my study at St Hilary's, I've managed to make the entry even less noticeable to unfriendly eyes.  Would you like to see it?"

"Very much."  

Duncan looked at Alaric and raised an eyebrow. "Possibly tomorrow afternoon?  I did promise to show you St Hilary's Basilica after all."

"I'd enjoy that, thank you."

"I'll meet you there," said Alaric.

"Good," Duncan nodded.  "And now, I'm afraid, I am going to turn in.  Richenda, there may still be people about, so would you like me to escort you back, rather than be seen leaving Alaric's apartments with him?"

"We'll both escort her," said Alaric, rising and holding out his hand to her.  "At least as far as the last corridor.  Where, dear cousin, I can deal with the dragons myself."

____________

Next chapter:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=524.0

Evie

You know, it's always been a source of bemusement to me that KK keeps mentioning dreamless sleep in her books as if this were a good thing and somehow more restful, when actually it's a full sleep cycle--complete with dreams--that's most restful (even if one doesn't remember the dreams later).  Not to mention that dream-filled slumber can be far more fun....   :D

So...um...how many more months before these two can be put out of their misery?   ;)
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

Four and a half ish, I think.  This must be January sometime, and they were married in May iirc.  So a lot more - ahem - restless nights for both of them!

* Waits impatiently for the proposal * ;)


Elkhound

Quote from: Evie on September 09, 2010, 09:09:18 AM
You know, it's always been a source of bemusement to me that KK keeps mentioning dreamless sleep in her books as if this were a good thing and somehow more restful, when actually it's a full sleep cycle--complete with dreams--that's most restful (even if one doesn't remember the dreams later).  Not to mention that dream-filled slumber can be far more fun....   :D

It depends on the contents of the dream.  Also, many people have dreams but don't remember them.  (I read somewhere that the only people who never dream are schizophrenics.)

DesertRose

Quote from: Elkhound on September 09, 2010, 03:33:57 PM
(I read somewhere that the only people who never dream are schizophrenics.)

That doesn't sound right to me.  I only minored in psychology but I don't think that's an accurate statement.
"If having a soul means being able to feel love, loyalty, and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans."

James Herriot (James Alfred "Alfie" Wight), when a human client asked him if animals have souls.  (I don't remember in which book the story originally appeared.)

Alkari

Fortunately, I don't think we have to worry about either Alaric or Richenda suffering from schizophrenia! 

Evie

Quote from: Elkhound on September 09, 2010, 03:33:57 PM
It depends on the contents of the dream.  Also, many people have dreams but don't remember them. 

Well, true, nightmares aren't very restful.  But what I meant was that the most restful sleep is one in which the sleeper experiences the full sleep cycle, which would include the phase in which dreaming occurs.  Whether the dreamer remembers his dreams in the morning is immaterial; it's the uninterrupted cycle that's important for proper rest.  Though with the obvious exception of nightmares, I generally prefer to remember my dreams when I can wake up slowly enough, and in the right stage of the cycle, to do so.  For one thing, I tend to have good dreams, and at times they even provide me with story fodder.  The inspiration for "The Killing Season" and its sequel-in-progress began with a dream.
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Evie

Quote from: Alkari on September 09, 2010, 04:23:31 PM
Fortunately, I don't think we have to worry about either Alaric or Richenda suffering from schizophrenia! 

LOL!  Yeah, it's highly doubtful.   :D   The symptoms usually manifest in adolescence or early adulthood, anyway, so if neither has shown any signs of it by the time of KKB, I think they're probably safe.   ;)

Bethane, on the other hand, didn't seem to be playing with a full deck....   ;D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Gyrfalcon64207

Well, in restless sleep, one would tend to wake up more and remember more dreams.  So if you sleep straight through, you wouldn't remember dreams, and would be able to describe your sleep as dreamless, whether or not you actually dream--right?

Evie

Actually it has less to do with how often you wake up and more to do with how slowly or quickly.  Research shows that people who wake more slowly tend to remember more dreams, whereas those who wake more abruptly generally forget their dreams, even if they experienced REM sleep. It certainly seems to be true in my case, whether I sleep through the night or wake up once in the middle of it. Either way, when I drift back to wakefulness I remember more dreams than when I have to wake suddenly and get a running start on the day.  Also, I remember more dreams on mornings when I can drift in and out of sleep before finally getting up.  (I actually feel more rested on those mornings too, oddly enough, though that might be because my "dreamless" nights usually happen when I get too little rest and am too sleep deprived to wake until my hubby's Waker of the Dead jars me back to consciousness!  :D )
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Elkhound

Quote from: DesertRose on September 09, 2010, 03:49:15 PM
Quote from: Elkhound on September 09, 2010, 03:33:57 PM
(I read somewhere that the only people who never dream are schizophrenics.)

That doesn't sound right to me.  I only minored in psychology but I don't think that's an accurate statement.

Well, you may be right.  I'm sure I read that somewhere, but my source may have been wrong.  IIRC, it said that part of schizophrenic's problems is that they dream while they are awake.  The source said that one of the functions of dreaming was taking all the new bits of information our senses absorb every day and integrating them in with our older memories and our general personalities; it said that schitzophrenics can't or don't dream, and that therefore all this new information is banging around inside their skulls without being able to be integrated.

This may have been a theory that has since been discredited.

Elkhound

Quote from: Evie on September 09, 2010, 04:29:18 PM
Bethane, on the other hand, didn't seem to be playing with a full deck....   ;D

Considering her past history, it doesn't surprise me a bit. 

Alkari

#12
Well, as I said - neither Alaric nor Richenda are schizophrenia sufferers, so I think we can happily leave them to dream.  :D  

I am sure they both manage to get 'some' restful nights, regardless of any dreams - and as this is mid-January, they only have 3 1/2 months before they get married.   At which point, certain dreams will become extremely enjoyable reality ...  ;)


AnnieUK

Yup, three and a half - spot the person who loses the plot when she goes back to work LOL.  I *can* count, really.