Tag Archives: holly

Party for Paul mixes different emotions

Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,
Jon Welch, someone else I should probably know, Shaun Lowthorpe and Helen Ashworth
Jon Welch, someone else I should probably know, Shaun Lowthorpe and Helen Ashworth

Very warm couple of days this weekend, dissolving into heavy rain around teatime today. Dot has just gone out to the Greens’ for a “girls’ night out” involving Vicky and Ruth, and I stayed in to play host to Maryta, Paul and Holly and their stem ginger cake. We went round the Hendersons’ last night for a meal, and Holly was supposed to be there for that, but she had a stomach problem and didn’t arrive till today: glad I was able to see her.

Earlier yesterday there was an unusual event at the home of Pat and Lesley Prekopp at Burgh, near Aylsham. Paul Durrant, former EDP news editor, has been diagnosed with cancer (oesophagus, I think) and has only a few months to live; so they arranged for him to be at this party and for as many of his old colleagues as possible to come and see him. He was quite gaunt but in reasonably good spirits, though obviously emotional, and he gave a good speech. I spoke to him as Maryta and I left and I said it had been a real pleasure. It was clear that he had tears in his eyes, which may seem an obvious thing to say, but I found it moving.

Paul 'Duzza' Durrant, legend of the newsroom
Paul ‘Duzza’ Durrant, legend of the newsroom

I took Maryta; Brian had been intending to come but was too ill, and Robin had a previous engagement. The setting was beautiful and the weather extremely warm; the food was good too. Met a number of former colleagues/friends: Tony Wenham, Ian Clarke, Trevor Burton, Emma Lee, Annette Hudson, Sarah Hardy, Stacia Briggs, Helen Ashworth, Louisa Griffith-Jones, Ian Bullock, Bill Woodcock, Sarah Brealey, James Goffin, Pete Kelley, Jon Welch, Rachel Moore, Mike Pollitt, Denise Bradley, Alison Croose, Andrew Stronach, Shaun Lowthorpe, Mark Harrop and others too numerous to mention or who I’ve forgotten. Left after 2½ hours but would probably have stayed longer if I’d been alone: Maryta, of course, knew far fewer people than I did. Apparently when Duzza left he got a round of applause.

Even earlier yesterday Colin and his youngest son Jordan came and cut our hedge, which gave us more light into the kitchen and garden, as well as a rather smug feeling, which dissipated when he pointed out that Dot’s car had a flat tyre. However, I’ve pumped it up and it seems to be staying up – at the moment.

On Friday we had a surprise when  Bronwen Edwards of InPrint fame came round out of the blue and stayed for a drink. She was staying in a hotel on Prince of Wales Road. Hope to see her again.

Thursday saw us on the Broads in the afternoon. We hired a day boat for a couple of hours with Fred and Sue and sailed down to Salhouse Broad. We had a cup of tea while we waited and a meal in the Hotel Wrexham when we returned – fish and chips for Dot and me. A really pleasant afternoon which made us wonder why we don’t do it more often.

The godfather: a sequel

Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,
P1050371
Holly a few years ago

Holiday approaching fast. Dot is completing her packing today – or at least making a list –  prior to a day in London with Anne.  I will be packing too, but I have a “dress” rehearsal with Chronicle this afternoon.

Last night I met my god-daughter Holly for the first time since her wedding. She is now divorced and seems very happy: we had a lovely evening with her and her parents, Paul and Maryta, at Prezzos. The waiter was excellent, and Paul insisted on paying. How much better could it get? They also spent some time with us before and after the meal, and I discovered that Holly is a science fiction fan, especially Iain M Banks and Alastair Reynolds. I recommended Robert Holdstock’s Lavondyss and Mythago Wood, and lent her copies.

Dot was particularly pleased to have a good meal, because she had been fasting over Monday night in preparation for a blood test early yesterday. This meant that she was not able to have either the tea or the cake at Bridget and David’s during our monthly “cake and compline” gathering. Still, she could do the compline. Judy took us in her new car because she was a bit worried about parking it next to ours. So she had to park it at the Archers’, which is even more of a challenge.

On arrival home we forgot to retrieve the child seats which she had left at ours, so I took them to her yesterday morning while Dot was waiting for her blood test.

On Sunday we had another downpour or two – the biggest one as church ended. We were afraid that our living room would be flooded again, and were relieved (and surprised) to discover no water at all on the floor when we got home. The rain and wind were  apparently the tail end of Hurricane Bertha – much worse in some other parts of the country.

We were a bit hesitant about fulfilling our scheduled visit to Walpole Old Chapel, near Halesworth, in the late afternoon for a poetry reading. But in Suffolk there had been little rain, and it was sunny and quite warm (though a bit windy). We were amazed at the number of people there – probably around a couple of dozen or more reading – and we all got to read three shortish poems or two long ones.

I read Something is required, Flood levels and Pelican, and they seemed to be well received. Mike Bannister, the organiser, was very welcoming and wanted me to read again at another Suffolk group. Another woman (wife of Hebridean poet James Knox Whittet) was convinced she knew me, but we couldn’t work out where or how. The whole affair lasted about 2½ hours. The chapel itself was amazing.

All this followed a full Saturday, which started with Dot visiting the doctor and getting a positive response to her complaint about her thyroxin tablets being cut. (She had been feeling under the weather, apparently as a result.) This doctor restored her former dose and said she could quote him if they tried to cut it again.

From here we proceeded to Jessie’s and then to the Gunton Arms, where we had an unexpectedly  full lunch. I had been anticipating a sandwich, but we were sat at a restaurant table, so I felt I had to order a proper meal. This was a mistake, but quite typical of me. However, the shoulder of lamb was excellent. I shouldn’t have had the cheese and biscuits, though. Felt too full the rest of the day, which included Denise’s 70th birthday party in the evening.

This was fun, despite our not knowing many of the people there: it is after all 30 years since we lived in Yelverton. We chatted with the Jarys and especially enjoyed catching up with Keith, Clive and Elaine. I also had a longish chat with Barbara, who is not well but remains cheerful. It was also nice to talk to the Wrights’ new next-door neighbours, a youngish couple (though they have an 18-year-old boy who is interested in journalism).

Succession of rainbows

Uncategorized, ,
rainbow and tree
One of many rainbows seen on the way home to Norwich from Coventry.

It’s 10.15pm, and I’ve already put my watch forward for BST, so it seems quite late. Dot has not been well today: it started as a dizzy feeling, then her head was very heavy, and now she has a bit of a sore throat and has gone to bed. I’ve been feeling a little odd myself, but then I am a little odd.

The theatre on Thursday night was enjoyable. Because it was rainy, we drove up and parked just after 6.30pm, then wandered into the Mall – bumping into Simeon Care and a friend of his on the way – and then back to the theatre for a leisurely drink. The play was Enjoy, by Alan Bennett, which was brilliant, especially in the hands of Alison Steadman and David Troughton: at times eye-wateringly funny. The ending was a bit artificial, but you can’t have everything.

Yesterday Phil drove me to Coventry for a meeting with Andrew’s care worker and a couple of other people from social services. This went very well, but it was supposed to include Andrew, and he had gone out about ten minutes earlier – despite being told not to – and never put in an appearance. If I had been on my own I would probably have waited another half hour or so, but Phil was keen to get going, and I could see his point: there was every chance Andrew wouldn’t return till around 6pm. Don’t yet know when he got back (I possibly never will), so I’ve written him a letter and sent him a few photos from the holiday. We got home about 6.20pm after taking a detour to avoid a long stationary queue on the A11 between Barton Mills and Thetford. Quite a bit of rain on and off, and a succession of rainbows on the way home.

This morning after posting off Andrew’s fees (I had forgotten to take them yesterday) I went into Norwich to buy a couple of birthday cards and a book for a friend’s birthday, as well as a copy of The Times, in which Holly’s wedding featured prominently. Beautiful picture and a good article too.  I have a famous goddaughter.

Portsmouth wedding

Uncategorized, ,
Holly and Phil
Phil and Holly emerging from the church beneath a guard of honour after their wedding.

Just back from Portsmouth – new territory for me – where we witnessed the wedding of my goddaughter Holly Henderson at St Ann’s Church in the Royal Naval Dockyard. She is a lieutenant in the Navy, and her groom, Phil Dennis, is a lieutenant-commander, which is one rank higher. We stayed in the Queen’s Hotel on the seafront, which was excellent. Our large room had a great view of the Isle of Wight and of the ferries and occasional Navy vessels entering and leaving harbour: it was also extremely comfortable, and the food (we had dinner there on Friday) first class and reasonably priced. The staff in the restaurant were brilliant too, but all without any fuss. Pretty much my perfect hotel, except for some bizarre plumbing in the bathroom, but that was a minor issue.

The journey down started beautifully but gradually deteriorated after I took over the driving at Thrift Farm, near Buckingham, where we’d stopped for a cup of tea, only to find that it was shut – a fact they did not feel it necessary to reveal until we’d parked and walked about a quarter of a mile to the tea room door. We snatched some sandwiches at the next service station and progressed through ever-worsening weather until on the approach to Portsmouth you could hardly see where you were going. The traffic was very bad too: several hold-ups and particularly severe as we entered Portsmouth. I played it by ear and got to the hotel by a slightly roundabout but relatively traffic-free route. Took us about five and a half hours altogether. Roughly 230 miles. Looked at other guests keenly to see who might be attending the wedding, and had a chat with Maryta’s best friend Barbara and her husband Tim. Otherwise it was guesswork.

The wedding went very well, despite the frequent rain showers and overcast sky. Being inside the Dockyard was a fascinating experience, driving past huge ships and eventually finding the church, where we discovered Barbara and Tim again, as well as Celia from Cambridge, who turned out to be Holly’s other godparent. We were very early, but the church was packed eventually, and we watched the guard of honour practising. Afterwards we all drove to the Royal Marines Museum, east along the seafront, which was an impressive setting for the reception. There was the usual delay, but the gap was well filled with bubbly and canapes, followed by speeches and then a fine meal of lamb. We were on a table with Barbara and Tim, Celia and other people from Norfolk, as well as a couple from Mottingham Lane. All got on well, and my only regret was that I had to curb my drinking of the abundant wine, because I was driving. After the meal there was a live band, disco style, and I danced briefly with Dot and Maryta before we went back to the hotel around 9pm. There we saw the end of the rugby, France beating England and taking the grand slam.

This morning, with improving weather, we strolled over to the seafront after breakfast and then had tea in the bar with Paul, Maryta, Holly’s brother Joe and his American girlfriend Chessie, who was charming. Chatted for well over an hour, and we eventually left at about 12.45. The drive back home was much better, though still marred by the apparently permanent road works after Milton Keynes at the M1 junction and beyond – about 10-15 miles at 40mph. Got home about 6pm. It’s now 10.10pm, and I’m feeling very tired. I don’t know why.