He read until his eyes grew tired, then he had a bath and a hot drink, and went to bed.

In his dream he heard a phone ring, and smiled to himself. His dream self thought, ‘I’ll leave it. The answerphone can pick it up. After all, I’m asleep, aren’t I?’ The dream phone rang three more times, and then was silent.

In the morning when he woke, he caught the tail end of the dream, which was a mild feeling of disappointment that whoever was ringing had given up. Who could it have been? Had a message been left? He was annoyed with his dream self for not bothering to check, to find out if there was a message. It was too late to go back and do so, now that he was awake. He would never know what it was about.

It had been snowing and the house was cold. The radiators weren’t working. He must make that call to the central heating people. Still in his dressing gown, he went into the study and saw that the light on the answerphone was flashing. ‘Ah yes,’ he thought. ‘I forgot to listen to that message last night. I was so enthralled by that book. Here it is on the chair.’

He picked it up. It was about shamanism, and the messages that come to us from the unseen, when we are properly attuned to receive them. He opened it and was about to start reading it again. But then he remembered that he had not dressed or had his breakfast, and that it was cold. The light was still flashing, so he turned up the sound and pressed the button. He did not recognise the voice of the woman who spoke. ‘Hello, Howard,’ she said. ‘This is a wake up call! You are missing something.’ That was it. Who was it? What could it mean?

He dialled 1471. A voice said, ‘We do not have the number to return the call.’ That was what they usually said when it was someone from a call centre asking how many windows he wanted to have double glazed.

Howard shrugged, and looked at the mail. An invitation to a talk on how to use hypnotism to inspire creativity. Interesting, but it clashed with a professional conference he really should attend, but for which he had little energy.

He was about to go and make some coffee when the phone rang. The same woman as before was on the line.

‘Howard, you still don’t get it, do you?’

‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘What is all this about my missing something?’

‘Check your email, Howard,’ she said, and hung up.

He was really annoyed now. ‘What the hell is she playing at? I need a cup of coffee.’ He went to make it. The kitchen was freezing. Shivering he went back and dialled the central heating company. He listened to a recording of The Four Seasons for about ten minutes, and then hung up. ‘Why don’t people answer their phones?’ he fumed. ‘Why is it always so difficult to get through to anyone?’ He remembered the dream of the ringing phones and the woman with her crazy messages. ‘Something tells me I’m having communication problems and I’m confused.’ For some reason, this made him smile.

He switched on the computer and looked at his email. There was a message from his friend Dave, a writer who shared his interest in creative inspiration. He was going on about synchronicity. ‘It seems to happen more and more, the more you pay attention to it,’ he wrote. ‘The connection-making, meaning-finding part of your mind begins to get more active. If you answer the phone when your unconscious wants to reach you, it will start ringing more regularly.’

Howard stared at the message. His coffee was cold on the desk. Snow was falling heavily.

As he sat gazing at the screen, understanding seeped slowly into his mind. ‘It’s something to do with listening, I think,’ he said.

Just then, the phone rang. He picked it up.