Weekend Teaser two: The Merry Millionaire The Mena House Hotel; Giza February 1937. Glancing in the bathroom mirror, as I returned to the bedroom, I saw I was deathly white, even though my brow had received a considerable amount of sun the previous day. The reason for my ghostly pallor was the awful nightmare which had woken me. I dreamt I was lying inside a coffin, the lid held tightly in place by six feet of earth. I was suffocating and, although in complete darkness, I could see into every corner, at the same time sensing the strong odour of damp soil. In desperation, I hammered on the lid, and tried to cry out, but the scream stuck in my throat. Then, all of a sudden, I was transported into the fresh air, my spirit hovering above an open grave, where people gathered around a minister, his black cassock sadly opposing a host of gay floral tributes piled upon the mound of fresh earth beside the grave. Only then did I realised I recognised some of the people. Eric and Amy stood beside Gertrude, the widow of my friend Fritz Barnhoff. There was the lady who ran the Post Office at the end of The Barton. Commander Buckmaster, my old commander, was amongst the gathering, head bowed, wearing the uniform of the 4th. Somerset Light Infantry. I saw my scouts, some visibly moved, while others stood stoically to attention, fighting back the tears. Mervyn, Mickey, and Teddy were smart in their black suits, and ties, hair neatly Brylcreemed, shoes polished. Then the vision vanished and I was alone and soaring above a church; Kelston Church; I knew the tower instantly. Also, I could see Fritz’s monument and grave, stone in the churchyard. The white stone statue of Christ, hands open wide, receiving the flowers I put there every year on the anniversary of his death. But what was this? Another gravestone beside his. A grey slab surmounted by a tall basalt cross. My spirit plunged towards the epitaph, in fact so close I could read the inscription. ‘Here lies Ronald Bredhurst Fry. May he rest in peace. A most kind and generous man.’ I strove to read the dates chiselled on the slab. But then I woke, the vision still so vivid it was necessary to lie still for several minutes in order to banish it into fantasy.
Posted on: Fri, 09 May 2014 23:02:09 +0000