Go to Episode 1
Martin checked his map once more. This was definitely the right building. He found it hard to concentrate on the map Hermione had printed out, and the route Lisa had drawn for him on it, because one thought kept creeping back to dominate his mind. Could he really be married to Lisa?
When, back in the supermarket, she said she’d dreamt of their marriage, Martin had felt none of the usual male panic, rather a warm glow of rightness. Perhaps it was a sign the memories, his real memories were still there, waiting to emerge at some point.
Lisa’s – and everyone else’s – attitude to everything happening to them all, puzzled him as well. They all apparently thought there was nothing strange, or ominous, about any of it. To Martin, it all seemed crazier than – and to bear the same tenuous relationship to reality as – a political party manifesto. However, the rest of them all were treating it as no more than a sort of routine job. Even when it seemed all their dreams, or nightmares, were coming true, and – now – there were some people out there trying to stop and – even – kill them.
Then Hermione gave him the message to come over to the university to meet someone, who just happened to be Lisa’s tutor, on his own. The computer’s message had emphasised on his own, which worried Martin. However, Lisa was so sure of what she was doing. She even drew the route on Hermione’s small map showing him how to get to the relevant building. He was seriously beginning to consider just walking away from it all. Maybe he could go back to stay with his parents for a while, at least until the TV news announced the discovery of LSD in the town water supply, or something like that.
Martin looked at the room number on the letter and then up at the sign on the wall in front of him. The sign pointed up the stairs. Martin sighed and began climbing the stairs. Maybe when he got back he would just pack a few things in his car, say goodbye to Sam, John, Fiona, Lisa….
Lisa? Martin had hardly ever spoken to her before this strange day began. He did think she was very attractive and he liked her, but married to her? Martin thought he was far too ordinary for her. She deserved some tall, blonde muscular beach-god. Martin was fairly tall… and blonde, he reminded himself, but he was no beach-god, not even some minor shingle-deity.
This one pointed down another set of stairs. Martin looked at his watch. Ten past three. He hated being late and Sam had warned him, respectfully, to hurry. He began walking faster. Another sign, this one covered by a piece of paper with the room number hand-written on it, and an arrow, pointing.
The arrow pointed at a plain brick wall. He studied Lisa’s map; he’d disappeared off the edge of it. Martin peered around the corner and saw a door. He smiled and stepped through the door.