Thursday, 14 May 2015

Perhaps Visitors

Perhaps Visitors
Word count: 3405

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








No comments:

Post a Comment