Looking for the King. David C. Downing

      Laura tilted her head and considered this. “I suppose that’s possible,” she said. “But I would think I’d remember. I’ve read plenty of books in my time, and I’ve never had dreams about them like my vision-dreams.” Then her look of relief disappeared, as some new problem came into her mind. “But even if it all really happened once, why would I keep dreaming about it?”

      Laura addressed this question directly to Charles Williams, almost as if she had forgotten Tom were there. Williams pondered the question, tapping his fingers on the table. “I wouldn’t know,” he said finally. “I wonder if you’re meant to pray for him, to help carry his burden?”

      Tom had been perplexed at Williams’s lecture, but now he was simply astounded. He thought he simply must interject some sardonic remark, but the look on both Williams’s and Laura’s faces bade him keep silent.

      There was a long pause in which no one seemed to have anything more to say. Finally, Williams glanced at his watch and stood up from his chair. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve lost track of the time. I actually have a dinner engagement this evening with one of our authors at the University Press.” Turning to shake Tom’s hand, he said, “It was splendid meeting you. If I can be of any service in your research, don’t hesitate to call.” Tom nodded and offered his thanks. Laura lifted up her hand and, for a moment, Tom thought Mr. Williams was going to kiss it. But he simply gave her a firm shake and thanked her for coming to hear his lecture. “The privilege was all mine,” answered Laura enthusiastically. “And thank you for coming to talk with us. I simply can’t tell you how much this time has meant to me!” As Laura looked up at Mr. Williams, there was a softness in her eyes and a warmth in her smile that gave Tom a twinge inside, something akin to jealousy. Mr. Williams made a slight bow with his head, grabbed his overcoat from a nearby rack, and walked briskly out of the pub.