Perhaps
Visitors
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Memories
are like landscapes, they travel from place to place and sometimes
they even change without our knowing, of course as we get older some
of us become more confused and don’t notice these little things,
Dreams are similar, the scientific interpretation of dreams is the
mind sorting out problems when we sleep, storing the days events into
filing systems, Sometimes a document “As I will refer to it”
gets put in the wrong file and so a simple dream about walking down a
familiar place “Perhaps from ones childhood” gets mixed up with
a visit to the Zoo or whatever and so we get surreal situations,
sometimes these disturb us and we refer to them as nightmares!
My
Grandfather knows all about dreams, or at least he tries too, I first
met him or should I say remember visiting him when I was six, it was
1945 not long after the war had ended and I had been told by my
Parents that he was an Actor and not only that but he also wrote
stories!
“Will
he tell me one? I inquired excitedly”
Only
if you’re a good girl Amelia! Confirmed my Mother straightening my
ribbon which I hated and attempted to remove by scratching my hair
whatever chance I got!
Dad
was patient as ever or should that be diplomatic, wise would be a
better word, he chose to stand by the new car he had bought, a Ford I
believe it was, I suppose it would not be considered much these days
but to us it was magical,!
“I
felt the same way about seeing my Grandfather for the first time, he
lived in an old country house complete with a long winding lane and
trees and grass that seemed to have never been disturbed, I remember
how surreal it all seemed even the sight of a rabbit scurrying past
and cows lounging in a distant field seemed strange,. “Some
children had not seen any farm animals and were afraid of them, but
my Parents had good jobs at the time and traveled a lot and sometimes
took me with them so I suppose I’d seen more than most, yet to me
this was different!
When
we drove up to the old secluded house I felt as if I was in a dream,
there were neat rows of flowers and having parked our car sideways my
Father was the first to get out and give an admiring glance at the
door tinged with familiarity!”
“Now,
you’ll be on your best behavior won’t you? My Mother inquired,
once more straightening my yellow dress whilst she remained in the
knighted position”
“Yes
Mum” I replied wearily, I wanted to know what was behind that door
I wanted to see inside the house and if it compared to my
imagination, most of all I wanted to have my imagination fulfilled by
my Grandfather’s stories!
“Dad
rang a rope that chimed. Two small bells could be seen above the arch
shaped door that had a glass arch at the top, separated by four
lines of brown wood, the door itself was oaken brown and it was as if
someone thought it was a cake and had tried to divide it whilst
attempting to keep the biggest piece for themselves, for a moment
it reminded me of the stained windows of a church, what with the sun
on it there was a kind of spiritual feeling about the place as if
inside there were many memories being in someway kept alive!
I
will not describe my Grandfather just yet, all I will say is that he
was younger than I expected and wore a white cardigan when he opened
the door. These memories still stay with me now even when I’m busy
they will return to haunt me, “His first embrace or the one I
remember most was the moment he had held me close to him and shouted
my name as if I had been lost at sea! I suppose in a way that made
sense!”
After
shaking hands and my Mother kissing him on the side of the face, he
insisted on helping my Dad with getting the suitcases out the car,
“You’re Grandfather says we can stay for a couple of days”
smiled my Mother, He’s even got your room ready!
And
chocolates! Muttered my Grandfather taking me by the hand as if an
excited child with a new friend. I kept silent as he led me up the
stairs with the white banisters. reminding me of a old musical film
we once saw at some cinema, “This was not entirely without
preference because going up the stairs I noticed there were posters
of films, all of them my Grandfather told me he had been in. They all
had one thing in common they were all made by the British film
company known as Ealing Studio, there were familiar comedies some I
had seen, and then as we approached the steps I saw a poster that was
disturbing as if out of the darkest corner of my imagination there
now lurked a faceless beast with open mouth and a somewhat dreamlike
shape, my Grandfather clenched my hand as if to gain attention and
stated:
“I
was in that film Amelia; see the poster just above it, that’s from
the film too,”
I
looked, this one I tried to convince myself was funny, because I was
becoming afraid, it showed a man with his hand over a Dummy’s
mouth, my Grandfather stopped with me to look and told me he had met
the Actor and even had his picture taken with him, “I can show you
if you want” he stated!
“Yes
Please” I replied, but that was not really what I wanted, “And
yet something told me it would be impolite to inquire where
Grandmother was because somehow I knew, though I was not certain if
and when she had passed away , however I knew in time he would tell
me!
The
film incase you are wondering is called Dead of Night, it is a
portmanteau of Ghost
Stories
about a man who visits a old country house a bit like this one, in it
he tells of his dreams that appear to be coming true, I had not seen
it at the time yet already I was fascinated especially when my
parents told him, he shouldn’t keep these sort of posters in the
house when I come to visit!
“You
know what an active imagination she has!” Confirmed my Mother when
we were all seated at the table having dinner!
I
could not help staring at the empty chair that was situated next to
my Grandfather; there was even an empty place that had been set!
“Where’s
Grandmother?”! I inquired, although I knew it lacked diplomacy, I
needed to know because like dreams my memories were becoming
distorted!
My
Mother gave one of those looks parents give when their child has
embarrassed them even if unintentional; however it was my Grandfather
who smiling at me over his dinner stated:
“She
was killed in the blitz! Your Grandmother worked as a member of the
93rd
Searchlight Regiment of the Royal Artillery. Their job was to operate
searchlights so our boys could see the German bomber Planes and shoot
them down with Anti Aircraft Guns, unfortunately the one your
Grandmother was manning went off and her and three other women were
killed outright by a bomb!
I
looked at him somehow I could sense the empathy in his voice and also
her presence;
The
93rd Searchlight Regiment was all women! Stated my Grandfather, “did
you know that Amelia?”
“No
Grandfather!” I replied even though I had uncertain memories that
contradicted my knowledge of past events, that even now as an adult
would come back to me as they did as a child!
The
meal of Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding with all the trimmings was
eaten as normal and after dessert of summer fruit sponge with custard
my Grandfather insisted on showing me his garden, whilst my parents
remained indoors!
“We
can have some extra strawberries!” He whispered when we was
outside, “I sometimes take them to market to sell them, you can
come with me one day if you like! Your Mother used to when she was
young!”
Grandfather,
I inquired, “What is Dead of Night about?”
He
then proceeded to narrate the plot in meticulous detail, my
Grandfather was good at that, now as a adult reading his Ghost
Stories I can appreciate more his involvement so to speak, not just
with the written word but the empathy of detail, some of it is fact
yet as stated when you become very old it can get confusing! There
was however one thing that confused him even then, “It is a good
film Amelia”, most of the stories are explained away as rational
coincidences by Dr Van Staaten the German Psychiatrist and you can
choose whom to believe, but no one ever explains the ending, I mean
when the hero or poor unfortunate depending on your point of view
played by Mervyn Johns is surrounded by all those people and he’s
on that Star as if he’s in some kind of circus, “where did they
all come from?”.
“Maybe
they were all ghosts Grandfather!” I stated by way of explanation!
“Yes,
but whose Ghost?, Ghosts are real Amelia you should always remember
that, do you know why I set a place for your Grandmother, because she
will always be a part of me”, “Come on I’ll show you some
photos ,they’re in our bedroom, I kept it the way your Grandmother
insisted!”
Inside
the bedroom was a large four poster bed complete with top cover and
Jacobean type decorum, the floor was covered in a red and yellow
swirled patterned carpet giving a sense of Indian mysticism or
British warmth. I remember there was a log fire in the Dining Room
because my Mother had told me not to get too close to it. Yet back in
their bedroom as he referred to it, there was a oil lamp on a dresser
that he told me was to help him see!
“We
have electricity!” He confirmed, but your Grandmother bought it for
some reason and I kept it to remind me of her! Now we made need the
main light for this Amelia there’s a switch just above you, good
girl! Now if you’d be so kind as to turn it on then I can look in
the wardrobe!
I
did, the room lit up though only with an illuminating glow that
further enticed its descriptive narration, yet the wardrobe with its
arch shape resembling that of the door itself was evoking. I studied
my Grandfather as he seemed to enter and kneel down then after a few
moments he came out proudly holding an old box, that I knew contained
all my Grandmother’s memories and more besides. He excitedly called
me over, yet in a calm nostalgic sort of way, as we sat on the bed
and he began to show me photos that told of their love for one
another and the memories he wanted to hold onto!
“Look
Amelia”! He said, holding one up for me to see, this one was taken
at your Christening , you see those two people there at the back,
well that’s me and that’s your Grandmother, can you see her?
He
had said it as if he had been looking at an image only he could see
and needed reassurance!
“Yes
Grandfather”! I said, and then I added, “Were you married long?”
“About
forty two years!” He replied, “when the war started your
Grandmother was called up you see, I served in the first but I
couldn’t serve in the second because I had a stroke and they deemed
me unfit, I spent most of the first few months in hospital, your
Grandmother wrote to me, would you like to see some of the letters?”
I
was about to say yes however he had more or less anticipated this
and showed me one anyway!
As
he was studying it, he muttered out loud as if to himself:
“Where
did the people in that house come from?”
That
question has stayed with us ever since, over the years I got to know
not only my Grandfather but also my Grandmother even though I cannot
fully remember her personally and what I can is very vague as if in a
dream!
I
remember when I was twelve he took me and my Parents to a private
screening of the film Dead of Night, I cannot exactly remember what
it was for, all I know was that just as my Grandfather had predicted
“I was frightened” but it was a pleasant sensation just like when
I remember listening to him read me his Ghost Stories. “The spirit
world is all around us Amelia” he used to tell me, and with our
memories sometimes it is within us. They even let him keep the
projector, he had his own private screening room in his house and we
would even watch his comedy films, yet there were no films of my
Grandmother only photos and the memories he told me and my parents!
Though the ones he felt closest to for some reason he told to me in
secret!
People
are not the only ones that can store up their memories, sometimes
places will do the same, an old familiar street will cause us to
reminisce of childhood friends, of joyful times and even those of
sadness, houses do the same! In a sense I suppose the people in the
house were there because of something they had done and could not
escape from, or perhaps they were an amalgamation of memories,
memories that had gone bad, this was something I intended not to
happen! So when I grew up I continued as I did as a child to see my
Grandfather as did my Parents, even when I moved away and got a job
working for the Publishing Company “ that coincidentally published
my Grandfather’s stories“, I made up my mind I would choose to
see him as well as visit my Parents.
Of
course all are older now and my Grandfather has become frailer, I
live on my own having not yet married even though I have friends I
hope one day to find the right person.
There
have been some dates. Though none to write home about. When I do get
married I hope to have a child so I can tell them stories, I cannot
write stories so they would have to be my Grandfather’s, “He said
he’d like to read them the way he reads to me!”
“I
can read to you as well Amelia; I enjoy you coming to see me, I don’t
get many visitors here, except for people from the Age Centre who
turn up to see how I am!”
He
now lives in London in a Suburban house, his old one has been pulled
down, he had to take his memories with him, all the things he
considered part of his reality my parents placed in the back of a
hired van, this was a time when industrial process moved everyone on!
Memories became the only reminiscence of the spirits of the past;
perhaps that’s what the film meant since it was set just after the
war. I could see the irony of it all, people in a house talking about
familiar things, even if they were dreams, dreams like memories
always seem real to some people and memories like ghosts need places
to stay as long as they are wanted. And I wanted to show him he still
was!
So
whenever I had time I would take him out in my car to familiar
places, not only those he felt nostalgic about, but those he may have
only read about or visited in parts. We sometimes visited the places
he went to with my Grandmother, we even went back to the countryside,
though that was now all modernized or ruined as he called it!
When
he was forced to move he took items related to my Grandmother with
him, old photo albums and even clothes and the oil lamp as well as
his own personal items. Including the film, Dead of Night as well as
other films he had starred in as I have stated. My parents helped
him by getting him a flat near us, I was about fifteen at the time,
he did not want to leave at first but progress was pulling down
everything, destroying memories like some German bomb, no houses were
left standing and there were no Ghosts to remind us, because even
Ghosts need somewhere! So he lived in a strange disturbing area and
being a moderately famous Author his appearances were far and few
between but he did have his fan base and he replied to all his
letters!
This
particular visit was somehow different, it was to him important, he
greeted me with eager and childlike anticipation, he clung to me and
said, “Amelia you’ve come to see us, your Grandmother’s been
asking about you!”
I
did not reply, his mind was sometimes prone to wander and yet writers
are deemed for their use of Artistic License yet I knew he was
different, that he was old and his memories had become more solid! He
kissed me on the face and even took my hand as he did when I was a
child! “We’re going out aren’t we? He said, are we going to
have lunch?”
“Yes”
I said, “the way we always do and you can have your summer fruit
sponge that I’ve made you it’s in the car, we can stop somewhere
where there’s plenty of grass!”
“Not
much here in London, all modernized, we prefer it back where we are!”
I
did not ask him how he considered my Grandmother’s presence, as
memory, as thoughts or as a real presence that like in the film had
always belonged. Yet I did have concerns and so gradually I increased
my visits and taking him to once familiar places that had become
unrecognizable except in thoughts where they remained timeless. I
talked to him of things we did and listened to him tell me of things
I never knew, I listened to one of his Ghost Stories and then I said
to him:
“I’ve
worked it out, what the film Dead of Night was trying to say, about
the people, the occupants, not those he meets at the start, those at
the end, their memories were too strong, they had no where else to
go, but Grandmother does and one day we will be with her, then we’ll
all be together”. “Ghosts like people need somewhere to exist,
things have changed, we’re the only ones who keep things the same!
I
kissed his face as he sat next to me and he remained silent in
thought whilst we toured the familiar surroundings of places we knew
and loved! As time went on he became frailer until I knew he would
soon be gone. He came to live with me and we would spend hours just
talking, sometimes it seemed he was back in the past and that was
when he appeared most content! My Parents came to visit and when he
became too ill, instead of him reading to me, I read his Ghost
Stories to him and he reminisced of the past!
Then
as dreams become real as Ghosts become solid he became more confused,
yet he knew we were there with him, even in the hospital. When my
Grandfather died I held his hand, I still feel his presence when I
touch the things he left me, these were The film Dead of Night this
one on his projector, even though I already had on it on video, yet
he would have wanted me to, plus a few clothes I took for reasons I
need not emphasise, and of course his story book, his photos and
the oil lamp. There was also stuff from my Grandmother, I did not
want them this way however I know through these inanimate objects
just like the house in the film he and my Grandmother lived on!
THE
END
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