He'd set his alarm for 11 o'clock so that he'd be in time for his job. When it went off, he was startled out of a deep sleep, and a dream which seemed quite real. In the dream he was looking down at Brent, who was dead, blood pouring out of his head. The horror of that dreadfully realistic dream didn't leave him during his shower, or the hastily gobbled snack he bought before he went into The Lord Grey. He nodded good morning at Keith and was amused when Keith said “G'day” back. Australians really did say that! A warmth filled his heart, a comforting sense that something was going right. He was far from home, and far from happiness, but maybe he would eventually be happy here. All the same, the horrible memory of the dream kept on coming back to him as he worked
The clientele were by no means all gay, or at least, Jason's gaydar didn't ping with many of them There were several groups of friends, some groups all male, some all female, but most mixed. There were single men of all ages nursing a coffee or a glass of wine. There were some obvious couples. One or two of the men tried to cruise Jason. He evaded their attentions politely, with a smile. He wasn't one of those men who resent unwanted attention. To be fancied was a compliment, and he knew from his own experiences how hurtful a crude brush-off could be.