These Dreams of You

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Most notably the music from her that filled the hotel room the first day fades, phasing in and out in wails and trebles. “Are you all right?” Zan says.

“Yes,” she says. She rubs her finger against Sheba’s cheek.

“Parker and I are going to the Ethiopian embassy. I imagine you know where it is.”

“Why would I know where it is?” says the woman, and Zan thinks to himself, Did I say something so offensive? “It’s on Kensington Road,” he answers, “across from Hyde Park, a little west of Knightsbridge. I don’t know what’s around there to do with Sheba but we can meet in the park afterward or if you want to take her on a walk, maybe we can eat something or get a soda for the kids at the pub where we first saw you. Parker will be hungry.”

Molly says, “What pub?”

“The one off Leicester Square that—”

“I don’t know it,” she says.

He says, “You do.” Did they ever actually talk about that afternoon they saw each other there, or is this a conversation that took place in his head, so vivid yet never in fact spoken? “You’ve been there,” he persists, “well, maybe not inside, but outside.”

“I don’t know it,” she says firmly.

The tone is becoming antagonistic. “Let’s meet then,” Zan says, “across the street at the park.”

“It’s a big park,” she says.

“The embassy is at Kensington and Exhibition Road.”