Guests and Relatives
30 May
Monday I was up with the lark to whiz round the M25 to Gatwick to collect Dale and his sister Clarice off their flight from the States. We passed a reasonably quiet day together.
I walked them round parts of Walthamstow, which even though it is very ordinary in many ways still has 18th Century houses, an old cemetery and a medieval house. Clarice was astonished that I basically take all this history for granted. They slept soundly and I curled up on the sofa bed with Cyril.
Tuesday I was on strike. Well, there was a strike at work so I spent the morning with my guests but went into work in the afternoon. I'd like to give you some high moral reason for this but in fact it came down to it would have been more trouble to cancel the training course than to bend my principles so I bent.
I met Dale and Clarice for a meal in the crypt of St Martins in the Fields which was good and then on to The Globe for Julius Caesar. Though I have been in the play twice as a youngster, I have never seen it live. I enjoyed it and I enjoyed the experience of being in The Globe. I've always thought of the venture as being a somewhat dusty academic exercise but this production really worked and made use of the open air setting. It was a rumbustious night out.
Wednesday passed and I had a night to myself. Highlight of the day was a quick phone call from James so I know he was not at all hurt in the Soho bomb and is being his usual busy self. Thursday passed also and I met Dale and Clarice for food and a viewing of An Ideal Husband which was good and witty. We went to a 6.30pm showing and I was home by 9pm. I must remember that as a possibility some times for early evening entertainment. Friday passed too and it was good to reclaim my house. By the time I went to sleep in my own bed, most things were back where they should be.
Saturday I was up early to get the shopping in, wash the car (don't want father telling me I don't look after it) and fill it with petrol. The drive up was easy and my parents and I spent a pleasant evening together. Sunday morning brought the ritual check of the car with my day and a trip into my parent's loft to reclaim some of my childhood effects.
Among them were all my old school reports that Albert had kept for me. I had hoped to see something of Mrs Elliot, the teacher I despised but, mystery upon mystery, when I found the report for that year, it was signed by someone else. So she must have left the school in mid year. Don't know if I'll ever get to the bottom of things now. I also got to speak briefly on the phone to my cousin, Joe. He's putting a brave face on things but his mum is dying and that's not an easy thing.
We all went off to Clatterbridge Hospital to visit my Aunt Ellen. Given the reports I'd had over the phone, she was looking much better than I had thought she might. Certainly, over the hour we were, there she was completely compos mentis, chatting away and full of the reminiscences that the terminally ill are wont to fill their time with. Only towards the end did she wander a little.
But I could see the fear and see the dislike of not being independent and in control. With her grey hair and shrunken features, she did look incredibly like my grandma. I don't know if I shall ever get to see her again now. But it was good to have touched base and hugged her whilst she still can remember me and who I am. It was one of the sadnesses of David's death that, by cutting himself off through the shame that he felt, he denied himself the comfort of the love of his friends and he denied them the blessing of being able to say their goodbyes.
I was glad that Ross was in the house to
greet me when I returned. We cuddled and rested and fed and shagged over the evening
and it was good. 
Last year on this Bank Holiday I spent my time travelling up the East coast rather than the West to see Ross. It's amazing how far we sometimes travel in a year.