Tell Me Your Dreams by Sidney Sheldon

“Sod off.”

“I mean it. Did you ever take singing lessons? I’ll bet you did.”

“No, I didn’t. As a matter of fact, I wanted to, but my”—For God’s sokes, will you stop that terrible noise! Whoever told you you could sing?—”never mind.”

“Toni, I want to help you.”

“No, you don’t, Dockie baby. You want to lay me.”

“Why do you think that, Toni?”

“That’s all you bloody men ever want to do. Ta.”

“Toni…? Toni…?”

Silence.

Gilbert Keller looked at Ashley’s face again. It was serene. Dr. Keller leaned forward. “Alette?”

There was no change in Ashley’s expression.

“Alette…?”

Nothing.

“I want to speak to you, Alette.”

Ashley began to stir uneasily.

“Come out, Alette.”

Ashley took a deep breath, and then there was a sudden explosion of words spoken in Italian.

“C’è qualcuno che parla Italiano?”

“Alette—”

“Non so dove mi travo.”

“Alette, listen to me. You’re safe. I want you to relax.”

“Mi sento stanca… I’m tired.”

“You’ve been through a terrible time, but all that is behind you. Your future is going to be very peaceful. Do you know where you are?”

His voice was white.

“Sì. It’s some kind of place for people who are pazzo.” That’s why you’re here, Doctor. You’re the crazy one.

“It’s a place where you’re going to be cured. Alette, when you close your eyes and visualize this place, what comes to your mind?”

“Hogarth. He painted insane asylums and scenes that are terrifying.” You’re too ignorant ever to have heard of him.

“I don’t want you to think of this place as terrifying. Tell me about yourself, Alette. What do you like to do? What would you like to do while you’re here?”

“I like to paint.”

“We’ll have to get you some paints.”

“No!”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to.” “What do you call that, child? It looks like an ugly blob to me.”

Leave me alone.

“Alette?” Gilbert Keller watched Ashley’s face change again.

Alette was gone. Dr. Keller awakened Ashley.

She opened her eyes and blinked. “Have you started?”

“We’ve finished.”

“How did I do?”

“Toni and Alette talked to me. We’ve made a good beginning, Ashley.”

The letter from David Singer read:

Dear Ashley,

Just a note to let you know that I’m thinking about you and hoping that you’re making good progress. As a matter of fact, I think about you often. I feel as though we’ve gone through the wars together. It was a tough fight, but we won. And I have good news. I’ve been assured that the murder charges against you in Bedford and Quebec will be dropped. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know.

Warmest wishes,

David

The following morning, Dr. Keller was talking to Toni while Ashley was under hypnosis.

“What is it now, Dockie?”

“I just want to have a little chat with you. I’d like to help you.

“I don’t need your bloody help. I’m doing fine.”

“Well, I need your help, Toni. I want to ask you a question. What do you think of Ashley?”

“Miss Tight Ass? Don’t get me started.”

“You don’t like her?”

“In spades.”

“What don’t you like about her?”

There was a pause. “She tries to keep everybody from having fun. If I didn’t take over once in a while, our lives would be boring. Boring. She doesn’t like to go to parties or travel or do any fun things.”

“But you do?”

“You bet I do. That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it, luv?”

“You were born in London, weren’t you, Toni? Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I’ll tell you one thing. I wish I were there now.”

Silence.

“Toni. .. ? Toni.. . ?”

She was gone.

Gilbert Keller said to Ashley, “I’d like to speak to Alette.” He watched the expression on Ashley’s face change. He leaned forward and said softly, “Alette.”

“Sì.”

“Did you hear my conversation with Toni?”

“Yes.”

“Do you and Toni know each other?”

“Yes.” Of course we do, stupid.

“But Ashley doesn’t know either of you?”

“No.”

“Do you like Ashley?”

“She’s all right.” Why are you asking me all these foolish questions?

“Why don’t you talk to her?”