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Angus McGovern Lives | The Dreamweaver


I decided to leave work early and head over to the grand opening celebration at the new Primark, where my bow ties would be making their debut at the newly relaunched high street retailer who had recently re-branded a number of their shops as up-market boutiques, featuring designer labels and haute couture.


Upon arriving, my son caught a glimpse of me through the shop window and came running to greet me at the entrance.


I left my coat and hat in the cloakroom then went to find my son who was going to save a place in line for us as a crowd gathered to enter into the reception area where food and drinks were being served.


Just then, I noticed a couple standing in the line next to us and the man looked exactly like Angus McGovern, an Englishman I worked for in Valencia back in the early 2000s who passed away some years later due to what was rumored to be a self-inflicted gunshot to the abdomen while either living in the vacation home he shared with his estranged wife in Jávea, or on a houseboat where he was alleged to be staying.


My suspicion that it was actually Angus came when he recognized me while embracing his date, immediately breaking the embrace and moving towards me to speak.


I panicked and quickly told my son to enter the hall without me, that I would catch up with him later.


I ran back to the cloakroom where I was greeted by one of the organizers, a young, well-upholstered but beautifully dressed woman who, noticing I was a bit out of sorts, asked if there was something wrong and if there was anything she could do.


I told I'd just seen someone who had faked their own death and who had recognized me and would surely be after me as I had identified him and was perhaps worried I might turn him in to the authorities.


The woman told me to follow her and we ran out the door at the back of the cloakroom and made it outside.


She took me by the hand as she walked quickly through a maze of back alleyways and narrow cobblestone streets until we reached the edge of the city.


We stopped for a moment and saw Angus in the distance who was obviously in pursuit.


The woman told me to follow her across a grassy field of lush rolling hills until we came to a turnstile.


She told me to give her my overcoat and hat and she would run to the left to distract Angus while I made a clean getaway running through the field to the next village where she said a red car would be waiting for me to take me back to the celebration.


I asked her what she was going to do and she looked at me and said she would take care of my problem and see me back at the party.


Then I woke up.

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