LIFE AND... PASSING ON

                                                            

                                                              LIFE AND...  PASSING ON

Tuesday 10th November 2020 was not a good day.  It was a memorable day, but not for the right reasons. It was the day of the inquest into the death of my son.  The 3rd August 2019 was the date he tragically died in mysterious circumstances.  It was a Saturday, the sun was shining, it should have been a good day, not his last day.  The Assistant Coroner at Woking Coroners Court declared  an 'Open conclusion'.  Open means that a death cannot be rubber stamped as definitively as an 'Accident', a 'Suicide'... or afforded a banner appertaining to 'Foul play'.

'Open' may be a conclusion for the Assistant Coroner, but open wasn't the word I'd use to describe the proceedings.  A 'Foregone Conclusion', a 'Whitewash'? it was certainly a convenient shroud behind which  Surrey Police could conceal their lack-of-investigation.  Had they been more diligent in their enquires a more expansive picture would have emerged and the truth behind my sons death more likely to be revealed.  He drowned in a swimming pool at a private house during the afternoon of that fateful day.  He was helping out his estranged wife as a favour...what a price he paid. 

Sixteen months of searching, researching, meeting with the police, encouraged by Court officials to obtain  background information, reviewing the police report, seeking witness statements, and for what?   On the day it mattered, the day you look to have your questions answered and your hopes raised that justice still prevails, merely two hours of shallow probing and tip-toeing around the perimeters of the case later, a bitter pill is to be swallowed when judgement is reached.  Let down by a system with such a narrow remit the devastation is immense and quite overwhelming.  One feels numb.  Oh that the Assistant Coroner had asked the police to re-investigate the case.  The only recourse one has is to take the matter to the High Court, a step slightly outside the purse of the ordinary man...

Over this weekend letters will be formulated and sent to the Chief Constable of Surrey Police, The Chief Coroner at Woking Coroners Court and possibly my local MP, Mr Michael Gove.

It is so easy to be bitter, resentful and brood for the rest of ones life, but where does that get you or those around you?  We all travel the road of life but once.  Having drawn a line under this 'BlackTuesday' and with the words 'Open Conclusion' now part of one's 'Baggage for life', it is time to move on, be it the road I have trodden for many years, or maybe a new road with a brighter horizon?   Who knows... 

What I do know is that I miss my son terribly.  I've sent text messages to his phone, a phone from which I will never receive a reply, but the fact that they do not bounce back is strangely comforting, so maybe he is reading them somewhere up there, for he will be 'Up there', wearing a Chelsea FC shirt and holding a glass of red wine accompanied by his grandparents.  I'll raise a glass tonight...

LOCKDOWN 2 - THE SEQUEL

 

                                                      LOCKDOWN 2 - THE SEQUEL

Although not as far ranging as its first incarnation, that is schools and universities will remain open, one has mixed memories of that period when queuing outside supermarkets became the "new normal."  Sadly, stores were taken unawares due to the public's innate sense of greed by not reacting quickly enough to panic buying.  Toiletries, toilet rolls, kitchen rolls, pasta, tinned tomatoes and a whole host of everyday items that in  'old normal' times would have been readily available, became highly-prized and highly-priced eBay commodities.  They would, of course, all been constantly stocked had some selfish bastard decided not to take ten packets of each.  

Overnight, traffic descended to levels unheard of since the seventies with High Streets becaming places of desertion, not seen since the last Hollywood blockbuster - or flatliner - predicting the mass annihilation of the human race - something for Mother Nature to look forward to, surely!  The irony of all this change was that whilst only food outlets and banks remained open, car parking was free in town centres across the nation - nowhere to shop, but at least you could gawp for free!  

Someone, I did read their name, but managed to hurriedly forget in double-quick time, suggested that the nation opens its doors and stands shoulder to shoulder, well, six foot six apart, and clap at 8 pm every Thursday evening in support of the NHS.  Anyone reading my books over the past 30 years will know of my genuine support for the health system, from my mother giving birth to now and my inherent disgust at the creeping privatisation that permeates our beloved NHS.  But why, oh why, do we wish to make special mention of those going about their daily - and chosen - occupation.

Rainbows appearing on placards, inside of windows, hoardings, buildings, Christ, nowhere was safe.  One week of clapping was enhanced over the course of time by kitchenware being used as drums with ladles  as sticks to beat them.  Why?  I sat in a darkened room, rocking in the foetal position, sucking my thumb and calling, "Mummy, mummy..."  until it was over for yet another week.  Black Thursday, I called it, although with Black Lives Mattering quite so much as it has in certain quarters, I will probably have to attend a 'Race awareness re-programming scheme' designed for white people of a certain age who remember freedom of speech and thought!  Black Friday will probably be renamed due to adverse and negative conclusions entertained by Guardian readers, Liberal Democrats and those confined within the  'Diversity-obsessed' Ivory Tower Establishment at the Beeb...  Just a thought!  The whole NHS flag-waving experience was enough to make a grown man consider counselling, such was the impact on one's mental ability to process such collective asinine behaviour.

Sadly, but not surprisingly, the "we're all in it together" attitude was holed very early on by politicians and a certain government adviser straining the public's confidence and their credibility.  Dominic Cummings' trip to Barnard Castle did little to endear him to the public or encourage their support.  Support we did, however, well, most of us.

With flights abroad cancelled and holidays with it, vast numbers took to the coast - any coast.  What a sad reflection on our society it was when being shown the residue debris, the rubbish, the faeces left behind by day-trippers over the summer months, post lockdown.  Like retarded lemmings they swamped the beaches, the fells, the tors, and the peaks.  Nowhere was left unsullied by human indecency.  The word "shameful" sounds inadequate.  I just wonder what their homes must be like.  They are probably palaces in comparison.  Wouldn't discard anything so freely there, probably use the their own toilet instead of the park, but the countryside and seaside appeared to be fair game - selfish bastards - doubtless the same selfish bastards who stripped the shelves bare during the preceding months?

But, as always, there are beacons of light.  One was that the Eurovision Song Contest was cancelled, which is usually another reason for locking oneself in a darkened room (refer to earlier comment for full details).  Charlton Athletic didn't lose a match for over three months, I mean, we didn't play, obviously, but we didn't lose - or even concede a goal.  And that's what matters, always look for the positives!

And so, we are in for another month of lockdown.  Can't go anywhere, nowhere to go, other than with the  mutt, three times a day minimum - what a close bond we have formed!  As somebody noted quite drily - the dustbin has gone out more than me.  I've just seen mention on television regarding Children in Need.  Oh, Gawd....  Who are these people who wish to sit in a bath full of cold baked beans for three hours - or is it days? - in order to encourage others to hand over their presumably hard-earned dosh to an unknown charity or cause?  Send a cheque anonymously and desist from your fifteen minutes of television glory and more importantly from boring the pants off me... please!  What's that?  Morrison's are to give a ten per cent discount to teachers during lockdown?  If anyone wants me I'm in the darkened room... See you anon.