Was playing ‘offs’ (glorified hide and seek, usually played at dinner time, involving two teams, one team hides, but has to actually physically be caught by the finding team) round some old castle.
I had managed to get myself stranded at the top of a very tall stone tower. This in itself would not have been a problem had it not been for the fact the stairs I had come up had disappeared.
Stood in the window opening, I noticed a small drop to a stairway. This stairway led to the top of another tower with a small hole in the top, just big enough for a person to get into.
There was no safety rail and it was a long bloody way down.
On my right was the remainder of a stairway that spiraled round the outside of the tower. There was a sort of platform about five feet away, where there steps started.
Petrified, I couldn’t bring myself to drop down onto the stairway, and if I couldn’t do that, there was no way on God’s earth I was attempting to jump five feet to the platform.
The stairs I had come up re-appeared, but when I followed them, they led right back to the window.
The tower had started to shake now, so I clung on for dear life. I now realise I am actually one of the towers in the Sagrada Familia. When I look out of the window, I see the Barcelona skyline.
Sunset is upon the city, and in the distance, i see some form of large tudor building rock gently before falling comically sideways to the ground.
At this point the tower shakes again, and looking down, the ground seems further away than ever.
I then notice something I hadn’t noticed before. On my left, adjacent to the window opening, is a red curtain.
Pullng it back it reveals a stairway going up. Weary of my experience with the stairs going down (leading me right back to where I am), I tentatively climb the steps.
The stairway leads, not to heaven, but to a roof garden, with an old white conservatory in the middle of it. There’s grass, flowers, hedges and trees – the lot.
I creep into the conservatory (I don’t want to get caught after all, and to my knowledge the game of ‘offs’ hasn’t finished yet).
On the way in there is a plate of milkyways, sans wrapper. I cramp three into my pocket, lamenting the size of them now.
Turning round a corner, out of the actual conservatory and into a corridor, which is all decorated in white, with very ornate cornicing, I find a load of people from my form at Queen Anne School.
There’s Lisa Chothia, Amanda Pickford, Kirstie Stewart, Catherine Finnoff, Samuel Mazloum and John Griffen to name a few. I think Colin Moulds was there too.
They are all as they were, what 15/6 years ago, in uniform too. They are also eating curry.
On the left, running practically the length of the corridor is a big table, with a white table cloth on it (red under cloth), upon which sits a massive spread of curry.
Just before I woke up I remember panicking that I would miss out, and there wouldn’t be much curry left.