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Chapter Twenty-One - A Most Unhappy Christmas

It was one of the most awful periods of my life. I kept thinking 'if only she had stayed here, how much easier it would have been for everyone to visit her every day'. I didn't think I could stay indefinitely with Dawn and Eric no matter how kind they were. I knew the fares around Christmas went up enormously and it was decided that unless anything changed, I would go to Durban on about the 15th January. As it turned out, that was the day I left Durban.

I sorted out all the money business at home. I signed and wrote out post dated cheques and left instructions for Ted about what to pay and what would go out on a direct debit. I showed him how to work the washing machine and for weeks lived on a perpetual awful sort of 'standby'. All the Christmas presents were wrapped and ready so that they could be given out if I was not there, especially to the children.

On the 18th December I was staying at Michael's flat overnight as I had been to have the Agency G2 annual photo contact sheet done at a studio in Docklands. By this time, I had an awful cough and cold and so did the photographer so that year's photos are the worst ever. Ted was at work that night, so as there was no one at home, I rang into my answerphone to check if there were any messages, and there was one from Rajie, saying that it was urgent. I then rang Rajie but she wasn't there. I left a message and later tried again. This time I got her. She said 'I think you must come now'. I told her it would be very difficult to get a flight in Christmas week, but she said it might be too late if I waited. So I said 'ok' and rang Dawn. Poor Michael had the bill for all these overseas calls. Dawn said they would not be at home between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day but otherwise it was fine. I rang Ted at work and said I would get back to Lancing and the travel agent first thing in the morning and asked if he could meet me there.

On Thursday 19th December Ted and I sat waiting while three ladies at the travel agents tried to find me a flight. The place was empty as I suppose all most travellers' arrangements for Christmas had long been made. There were only three places available. One was not until the Monday, one incorporated changing planes at Johannesburg in the middle of the night and they agreed with me this sounded a bit frightening and the other was the British Airways flight at £1100 including insurance leaving on Saturday night, 21st December. The cheap fares to Durban were usually in the region of £600. I had to give a return date, which of course was impossible. I chose 8th January but they understood it would probably be changed. I just paid by Barclaycard and got the ticket and went home to finish the packing. I had already packed light summer wear and a black dress. I hated Durban in summer, it was too terribly hot and sticky and since leaving there in 1959, I had only ever returned in cooler weather.

I rang my cousin Ann in Joh'burg to tell her what was happening and she said that coincidentally she would be down in Durban visiting a friend just after Christmas so would be able to see me and my mother. She had lost her mother, my Aunty Georgie, just the year before.

Ted gave me about £250 so that I would have some money to help towards Dawn and Eric's housekeeping and I had my switch card with me which it was now possible to use in South Africa and I would be able to spend money straight from my account. I had a small balance there and Barbra said she would lend me money to pay Barclaycard off then I could repay her later. I bought Christmas presents for everyone I could think of before leaving, and took them with me. 'Everyone' was Dawn, Eric, Tracey, Michaela, Rajie, Alec, Alec's mother and Rajie's two sons from her first marriage.

Paul also arrived in Lancing from Portugal on that Saturday that I was flying out. He was on his way home to Wales. It was a time when everyone seemed to be ill. Michael spent the Friday night with us too, and I slept downstairs so as not to disturb everyone with my coughing. I think the original plan was for Michael to come with me to Heathrow, but he was not well enough. In the end, Jennifer who also had some medical problem that day, came and fetched us, took Paul and me to the coach station at Pool Valley and then took Michael home with her to rest. Paul and I went to Heathrow on the coach and there met Barbra for lunch. Paul couldn't stay very long as he had to get back to Paddington to get the train to Pembroke Dock, but Barbra stayed until I checked in for my flight.

Both Dawn and Rajie met me the next day, which was the 22nd December. Rajie said I must come straight to Frangipania, but we did drop off my things first at Dawn's house. Rajie said she would take me back to Dawn later. It had also been arranged that I could stay at Alec's house between Christmas eve and Boxing Day when Dawn and Eric were away.

Everyone had prepared me for the shock I would have at seeing my mother and this did help. I knew she would look ravaged and she did. I went and kissed her and she said 'who's this?' and I said 'Beryl' and she said 'oh, I thought you were a man - you looked quite pretty in the last photo you sent'. Her eyesight wasn't good and I was very tired, un-made-up and had beige trousers on. She seemed very agitated about everything, she wanted her handbag and she wanted me to look for a card someone had sent her and she also was worried about the meaning of some word, which I looked up in the dictionary for her, but couldn't find. Now I can't remember what the word was. Jenny P had told me I should give her Arsen. Alb, the homeopathic remedy which helps to calm people at the time of death, and I had brought these pills with me. I told her Dawn or Eric would bring me in every morning. It wasn't good that I had to impose on them. They lived so far out of town, but there was no other way I could get there. Eric was not working since his heart attack so at least he was free.

Rajie told me she had drawn all my mother's money out of her bank account as Rajie had Power of Attorney. She knew that when my mother died, the account would be frozen and we would not be able to get at it to pay off other bills and she knew I had very little to pay for the funeral. She put all the money into her own account and gave me a paper showing exactly what she had. This was the most helpful thing Rajie ever did. I don't know how I would have managed as well as I did otherwise. She had paid Frangipania the rent for December, but of course we knew if my mother lived into January, another large amount would be due in advance.

I spent the first two nights with Dawn and then took just a few things for the following two nights at Alec's house. On Monday 23rd, my mother suddenly realised it was nearly Christmas. She had always bought presents for all the nurses at Frangipania and had often made them earrings and other jewellery, one of my mother's many hobbies. She gave Rajie money and asked her to buy sweets for all the nurses and make sure no one was left out.

Cathy rang me at Dawn's house that evening and said she was pregnant again. She seemed very pleased and I told my mother the next day. She had her eyes shut at the time, but I said 'squeeze my hand if you understand' and she did.

My mother had a telephone in her room next to her bed and various friends rang up. That whole period is like a strange dream in my mind and I find it hard to remember one day from another but I know that at first, although my mother was not eating anything at all, only sipping tea or water, no food or even cups of tea were brought to me. I had anticipated before leaving England that this might be a problem as I would be spending the entire day at Frangipania and had brought with me small tins of baked beans, peaches, a tin opener and rice cakes.

When a few of my mother's friends phoned and I spoke to them, they later visited the Home and also very kindly brought me Coca-Cola, bananas, crisps and sweets. The Zulu nurse aides were all very kind and seemed especially fond of my mother. I began to know what sort of things I could do to help, but sometimes more than one person was needed. I only had to call 'Purity', 'Gloria' or 'Eunice' from inside the room and someone would come running from down the passage. I thought sometimes that my mother was given priority over other residents, certainly by the black staff.

However, none of the other residents except for one elderly Jewish man, who my mother had written to me about months before, ever called on her or spoke to me at all. I think they were afraid of the Matron who my mother had antagonised by writing a sarcastic story earlier in the year about the lack of egg cups. Perhaps they thought that Matron would take it out on them if they were friendly with this 'agitator'!

There was a pleasant white sister there but even she had a guarded manner, I think my mother had really made an enemy of the management because she was so mentally active and not as docile and timid as most of the residents.

My mother seemed quite talkative on Christmas eve, during the day. She said she had not done enough with her life and I reassured her that she had. She said that the bible said one should visit the ill and those in prison. I had not heard this before and she went on that she had always helped the sick but had never visited anyone in prison. I murmured something about her not knowing anyone in prison, and she said 'that's not the point'. I had never thought that she knew that much about the bible.

My mother was concerned that I should have a decent Christmas dinner the next day, which was noble of her. She kept saying she would be all right and I must go home the following day at midday as Rajie would provide lovely food. I spent Christmas eve with Alec and Rajie and we watched 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers' on TV, the first time either of them had ever seen it, which surprised me.

On Christmas day, I went early to my mother as usual and Rajie said she would come and fetch me at about 1 pm. I had bought a present of a box of French perfume samples for my mother for Christmas but I realised she was past being able to open or appreciate them. She had always been very fond of perfume. I decided I would separate the small bottles and give one each to the most helpful Zulu nurses. Rajie and I tied up the sweets into little plastic bags that she had bought with bows round the top. There were a lot of nurses, probably about eighteen, who worked different shifts and on different days. We counted I think it was twelve chocolates and sweets into each bag. Rajie said ' for goodness sake, be careful to make it exact or there'll be a riot'. She did seem to know about the cultural differences between the South African races. She found out which nurses would be on which shift and made a list which I had to tick off every time a nurse received her sweets. A few days later, a nurse I had never noticed, came in and said 'my name is Gladness, madam, and I didn't get my sweets!' I said I was terribly sorry and hurriedly made her up a bag from some spares which were left. I said I had never seen her and she said she was the 'Special' from Room 8 which means of course she had nothing to do with the Home or my mother and her wages were paid by the Room 8 resident's family who wanted one-to-one care. However, it was good that I had enough to give her.

Getting back to Christmas, it was the strangest Christmas day I have ever experienced, which is not surprising. Rajie had prepared only cold food so it was easy to serve. Alec had daughters from his previous marriage and they arrived for the meal, and there were other relatives and friends who turned up. It was very hot and we all ended up sitting in the garden. Naturally a lot of the people had no idea who I was but recognised from my accent that I was English. I did talk to one young girl but can't remember anything about her or what I said. It was all so unreal. The tree under which we sheltered from the sun had spitting bugs in it. I had forgotten all about the existence of spitting bugs. I don't even know what they look like but little damp spots drop on one from time to time. We had fruit salad for dessert and then I began to feel fidgety and said I ought to get back to my mother. I returned at about 3.30 pm.

On Boxing Day, one of my mother's visitors asked why I didn't move into Frangipania as it would be easier and I was helping the nurses by carrying out so many nursing duties. I wasn't sure I would be allowed to, but she was a forceful person and went and spoke to the Matron and came back and said it was OK and there were empty rooms upstairs and it would be sorted out. It was stifling hot in the upstairs room under the roof. I was too afraid of cockroaches to open the curtains as well as the windows as they might fly in. There was a bathroom attached and I was given a pillow, sheets, a towel and a blanket. Rajie was worried they would charge me a lot and so was I, but I also knew it was helping them to have me there and the room was empty anyway. I said pointedly to the pleasant sister 'tell Matron that if she wants the room for anyone else, I can easily go back to Dawn or Rajie'.

Once I was staying in the nursing home, I spent a lot more time with my mother. I woke at about 5.30 am and stayed with her until about 9 pm when I went to bed. By that time the very nice Zulu night sister, Christophenia, was on duty. I told her to wake me at any time if necessary and she said she would. I will always remember the feel of the wooden armrests of that armchair by the side of her bed that I sat in for sixteen hours every day with hardly a break. I held her hand most of the time and tried to read when I could, mainly when she slept. But it was strange sitting in one place for so many hours. Sometimes when she was asleep, I put my head forward on her bed and tried to doze too in a very uncomfortable rolled up position.

As I was staying there, I needed more clothes. Dawn brought some in for me and I washed things every night and hung them over the bath. Everything dries very quickly in such stifling heat.

One day, I can't remember which, my mother said to me 'I know I'm going to die, maybe not today, but very soon and it's a strange feeling, a sort of slight frisson of not exactly fear, but strange'. I couldn't think of anything to say. I believed the homeopathic pills I had been giving her had certainly made her less restless and agitated than she had been at the beginning of the week.

My cousin Ann turned up most mornings before visiting her friend, but although I told my mother she was there, and my mother was very fond of her, she didn't really acknowledge her. Rajie said she would sit there for an hour one morning so that Ann and I could go to the nearby shopping centre for coffee and so we did. It was nice to have a break. Rajie said she would try to sort out some funeral arrangements because she thought an Indian funeral director would be cheaper than a European one. My mother had been very firm for years about wanting a cremation. What I never could have foreseen was that Rajie meant to carry out a loud conversation mentioning words like 'cremation' about 8 inches from my mother's head. When we came back and I heard her, I was horrified. My mother was deaf, but not that deaf, it would have been easy for Rajie to have faced away from the bed and spoken quietly and instead of using words like 'crematorium', she could have asked about prices and services. I mouthed 'no, Rajie, not key words' and she looked apologetic and muttered 'oh yes, all right'. Although my mother's eyes had been closed, she was shaking her head slightly as if to say 'no no no'. I hoped she could tell it wasn't my voice. She had always said how tactless though well-meaning Rajie was.

I wish people did not call it racist to discuss the differences in temperament and behaviour of different races. It is not racist presumably to say that the Welsh and Italians usually produce a lot of good singers, that Germans are efficient and make good cameras or that Africans have a wonderful sense of rhythm. It's only faintly critical remarks that are counted as racist. Perhaps here I should say 'racialist'.

I think Africans are different. This may be a lot to do with education and opportunity of course but things happened in Durban that simply would not occur in an English nursing home. I didn't mind at all, I found it fascinating because it was so different. My mother was very popular with the nurses and in that road were several nursing homes very close to each other and I expect the nurses were all friendly with the other nurses who worked nearby. One day one or two of the nurses that I recognised but who were off duty on that day, came into the room with several other strange nurses. They sort of sidled into the room standing along the far wall, and talking fairly quietly in Zulu and pointing and looking at my mother. The ones that knew her had brought their friends to see the person who had made them jewellery and given them presents. They talked and pointed for quite a while and then sidled out again. They ignored me completely. This is the sort of thing that sometimes causes problems between the races. Some South African white women would have been furious at the intrusion.

It was also strange how many things they stole from her. Well, when I say 'they', it may have only been one of them, or a few of them, not necessarily all. Other people have told me the same about their own relatives who stayed in nursing homes. Whether they liked the person or not did not enter into it. Rajie had to make sure she only left a small amount of hand cream in her room so if it vanished, there was more to bring in from home. My mother had very little jewellery of any value but almost everything of any value she ever had owned was gone. Things like soap, cotton wool, scissors which might seem insignificant to better off people, I suppose are tempting to people who have so little. The nurse aides were very poorly paid there and I found out they were not even given the same food as the residents for lunch, but only bread. I suppose it was a real fringe benefit of being in a care home for older people that due to their poor eyesight and hearing of the residents, one could so easily take from them. I can understand their need but wished things were different.

Then Nova phoned me at Frangipania, and said she was flying down from Joh'burg to be with me. Dawn had said it was fine for her to have the other empty bedroom. Dawn and Nova had not seen each other for 37 years. It was amazingly kind of Nova to come and be with me at this time. She must have known that being far from my home and family was very strange apart from the sad circumstances. Of course it didn't help Eric and Dawn as now that I was living at the Home, they had to start bringing Nova in every day to be with me, and then come again to fetch her in the evening. Because it was the Christmas break period, Nova was not at work.

From the day I moved into Frangipania, which I think was Boxing Day, orders must have been given to feed me. I was only eating what my mother had paid for, so it was no great favour, but I was certainly pleased to get three meals a day and regular cups of tea. I think that Nova arrived on Saturday, the 28th December, but it is a vague jumble in my mind. There were days when my mother seemed quite peaceful and days when she said 'Oh God, help me' endlessly except when asleep. Although she had not eaten for such a long time, she wasn't exactly fading. It may sound awful, but every time I went upstairs to bed at night, I would wish she could just die peacefully in her sleep. Every morning at 5.30 am as I came down the stairs, I would hear her moaning quietly 'Oh God, help me, please help me'. She was not in pain but felt terribly nauseous all the time and was often sick too. I asked the Sister if anything could be done to help her and she said 'no, not unless she is in pain, then we can give her something to relieve it'.

On the Sunday, Rajie sat with her for a while so Nova, Dawn and I could go out for coffee. We talked about school and I was the only one who remembered the words of the school song. We said how interesting it would be if we bumped into some other person from our class, but of course this didn't happen. If anyone is interested in the words of our school song, I will repeat them here. I hated that school so much and yet the loyal words are imprinted on my mind.

'We've Joan of Arc in history and Coeur de Lion too,
And stout courageous Wellington, remember Waterloo
Of Nelson and Napoleon full many a noble song
Is sung to make our pulses throb, our hearts beat loud and strong.

But who will make the history and weave the fabric fine
Record thy fame in golden deeds
Let honour bright be thine
And who will cast away the self and strive continuously
To make me worthy, oh my school, of thy great destiny.

Why we the schoolgirls of today and those who follow on
And those who've gone before us will forge the chain of song
Of beauty, honour, faith and hope, of joy and happiness
That stands for all that's noble in our grand old GHS (Girls High School)

Yuk!

My mother had lots of stationery in her cupboard. She had always been a great writer until her illness, so I had a lot of airletters and also writing paper and stamps. I wrote to everyone I could think of, cousins in the Cape and to friends of my mothers to tell them the situation and give them my address and Dawn's in case they wanted to contact me. Ted often phoned me, as did Michael and Jennifer. Graham came to visit a few times in that week. In fact the day he was there, my mother perked up a bit and tried to make a sort of joke about his yellow shirt looking like one of her nighties. I think that was probably earlier, maybe around Christmas eve.

Rajie had bought me for Christmas a book about the South African writer and comedian, Pieter Dirk Uys, which was fortunate, as I had run out of the reading matter I had brought with me. But during the last two days, I had Nova to talk to.

Monday the 30th December dawned and Ann had already been and gone off to visit her sick friend, and I was writing letters home at about 8 am when my mother started to say something was hurting. I said I would go and call someone from the office and my mother asked me not to leave her. I called a nurse and asked her to fetch the sister and a strange Zulu sister came in. I told her that I had been told that if my mother had pain they would give her something. She didn't seem to comprehend and didn't want to call a doctor. My mother was continuing to talk about the pain and I rang to see if Nova was on her way. Eric said he would bring her in as quickly as he could. I didn't like to leave her but realised something must be done.

Then Alec came in on his way to work and the sister was saying something about needing a catheter but the one I had already paid for was broken, and a spigot was needed. It was all like a nightmare anyway, but Alec rushed off to find a chemist and get the spigot, whatever it was. He came back and by then Nova had arrived and also the Matron. The Matron said it was no use, something had collapsed inside and that was why she had pain. She said she would ring the doctor and I told my mother the doctor was coming. I knew my mother hadn't wanted to take much medicine previously but I was sure she would welcome a painkiller, she just didn't want life-extending drugs.

I spoke very close to her ear and said 'will you take any medicine the doctor gives you?' and she said instantly 'yes, I'll take anything to stop the pain'. Then the matron told me the doctor wouldn't be able to come. Nova was as horrified as I was. She went to the callbox in the passage so my mother couldn't hear her and rang the doctor and had a battle of words with him, but he said he was busy and couldn't get there. She must have been very angry because then the doctor rang me in the office and I was called to the phone. Nova took my mother's hand instead. He kept talking about what my friend had said and I was shaking and on the verge of hysteria. I just said 'I don't want to talk about my friend, I want something to help my mother'. And he said 'well, I can send something round that will help the pain, but I can't get there'. So I said 'please, anything, just send something quickly' and I slammed the phone down, still shaking.

When I was at the office speaking to the doctor, my mother had realised she was holding a different hand and asked 'who is this?' and when she heard it was Nova, she seemed quite content and said 'Ah, Nova'. Because her eyes had been mainly shut since Nova had arrived I was not sure she knew she was there. She knew Nova lived hundreds of miles away so she ought to have been surprised.

When I returned and took her hand, she said 'my darling child' and 'what would I do without you?' and other things like that. Then she said 'don't leave me' and I said 'I won't'. It made me feel awful that she seemed to be trying to comfort me when I thought how irritated I had been with her over the years about her comings and goings.

The matron came in and heard my mother groaning quietly and said 'now, now, stop that' and I could have hit her. I thought 'I hope someone talks to you like that when you're dying'. But I knew I mustn't antagonise her too much. I was still worried I might be charged for the nights staying there. Nova had already frightened her earlier by saying she was a journalist from Joh'burg. The matron was very defensive about the standards at the Home and kept telling Nova how well they treated everyone. Nova had taken an instant dislike to her, as I had. I thought she was a mixture of an old fashioned seaside landlady and a brothelkeeper. Also we knew about her meanness in not providing sufficient egg cups for the residents, and making them hold their boiling eggs in wads of tissues (presumably the residents' own tissues).

The problem with the doctor was all a misunderstanding I suppose. I didn't know that a doctor could 'send something round' without even seeing his patient. He had not visited her at all since I had been there. If Nova and I had known this, we would have just asked the Matron to get something delivered by the doctor. My mother was murmuring something about 'a little hot stone' to help the pain. I think when she was young, she must have used a stone water bottle as I know they did a long time ago.

All the shops in Durban seemed to have Zulu messenger boys on bicycles who delivered orders very promptly, and quite soon the rather ungracious sister came in with a small bottle, saying that the chemist's messenger had arrived and brought the prescription. She had warned me that it would be quite expensive and I paid her straight away. My mother still had her eyes shut and seemed to think the doctor was there when I told her the medicine had arrived. I couldn't bear to tell her that he wasn't going to come at all.

The sister said 'I'll give her one dose and then she can't have any more for four hours'. Nova and I never found out what it was that she was given, but we naturally thought it was some sort of strong painkiller. She put some drops on my mother's tongue and then repeated that she could not give her any more and walked out of the room very quickly. Nova was now sitting opposite me on the other side of the bed. My mother was sitting up very straight and high. All through those last days she had continually asked to sit higher and we were always propping her up. From the instant the drops were administered, she never said another word or made a sound. I think Nova suspected more than I did. My mother's face seemed to change somehow and be more set, it is difficult to explain. I said to Nova 'I hope the pain doesn't come back before the four hours' and Nova said in a rather strange voice 'no, I don't think it will'. I just sat holding my mother's hand and after a while Nova said 'I think she's gone'. I know it's silly to say I was surprised, but I was. Maybe I had read things about death rattles and dying people staring at something they see ahead of them or saying something profound. But she had never made one sound from the time the drops were administered. I realised then that she had been terminated. I was very grateful and thought it best not to say anything about it, or ask any questions. I believe firmly in euthanasia and just wished the doctor could have sent the stuff five hours earlier so she had not had to suffer any pain at all. Nova felt for her pulse and confirmed that it was non-existent. She then went and called the Matron who also agreed. It was not until a long time later that I wondered if perhaps I should not have taken it for granted. I'm sure it was all right but my mother had always been terrified of being buried alive and I had promised her she would not be cremated until three days after her death at least. No doctor had seen her or did any further checks.

I telephoned Jennifer from the phone in the room and asked her to tell Ted, Cathy, Michael and Barbra. Then I rang Dawn who said she would get there as soon as she could, and Rajie who had a crisis of her own and was at a hospital with her son who had been bitten by a snake. I left a message for her. My mother's room had a small balcony and some of the nurses were sitting outside in the sun. I stood up and they called out 'how is Mrs Ford?' I told them and they all came running in very quickly too.

Then the Matron said the nurses would need to attend to things and could we wait outside somewhere. I kissed my mother's face and we went across the road to the park opposite and sat on a bench. It felt quite safe in the early afternoon and was very open. I did not want to see the funeral people who Matron had rung, arriving and then leaving and we didn't see anything. After about an hour, we went back and my mother's bed was bare and stripped down to the mattress. One young white general assistant who had been very kind to my mother came in crying and asked if she could have my mother's embroidered little mauve pillow and I said 'of course'. A day or two before, the chemist had sent my mother a Christmas present of perfume so I gave that to her too.

My mother had died at 1.50 pm and by 4 pm the room was full of people, Dawn, my cousin Ann who was very upset, Rajie and Alec as well as Nova and me. It was the 30th December and we wanted to clear the room completely so that it was vacant by the 1st January. I still worried that they might want another month's rent in advance but Rajie thought if we cleared everything and got out, it would be OK. I went to my room upstairs and tidied and cleared everything and took my linen to the sister in the office. All the ointments, pills or anything that we found, we also gave to the sister. Apparently medical items donated were welcomed by the local hospice.

Rajie became very efficient. Nova thought it was a bit awful, the way she took charge, but I didn't mind. It had to be done and the sooner the better. Alec had brought a lot of binliners and things were separated into rubbish, things to be divided amongst the nurses, and things I wanted which were mainly books, papers and photographs. Only the cheapest plastic trinkets were still amongst her things. Even her wedding ring was gone. I don't think she had worn it at all since I had arrived, but previously she had always had it. Before 5 pm, everything was sorted. Rajie had a list of the nurses so she could label all the different bags of clothes with the best things going to Christophenia, one of my mother's favourites.

Then the doctor rang me again and said in a rather wheedling voice how sorry he was and that he had really liked my mother. I suspected he was worried about his fee for past visits, maybe I was wrong, but I just said how sorry I was she had suffered for five hours and said that Rajie would settle any outstanding bills.

I was concerned about leaving the private telephone as I knew that now the room was empty, nurses might come in there and add to the phone bill by phoning their friends. Not many patients had their own private phones. The next day was New Year's Eve and there was a lot to do, like for instance asking for a final telephone bill and settling it. Alec did a very naughty but unfortunately necessary thing. He broke the whole fitment and we took the phone handset with us. So even if there was another handset somewhere in the building, it could not be plugged in there. Ann had come down by car from Joh'burg so she said she would be able to drive out and fetch Nova and me one day, so we could all go out together. Dawn had two days part-time work on the 2nd and 3rd January at the local bank and would not be available.

There was an awful lot to arrange. Alec said we could use his house for a memorial service. I was unsure what to do about a funeral service and Alec said he had heard it was a nice thing to do for friends and relatives to celebrate the deceased's life and read out bits about them and share memories of them. I was very relieved that this arrangement was made. I asked Rajie to write down everything that was spent as I was very worried about her being out of pocket. She had been a book-keeper and had worked in a bank, so one thing she was very smart about was finance. She promised to give me a full breakdown of the remaining money and tell me everything that they had spent or would spend in the coming week. This included food for the memorial service and notices in the newspapers so that my mother's friends would know where to come. We had to get a death certificate before the cremation arrangements could be finalised. It's hard to remember the order in which everything happened. I didn't say anything at all to the Matron when we left Frangipania finally, which I think shocked Rajie. I just felt I never wanted to go near the place or see her again.

The next day Rajie drove Nova and me around to pay bills at the Telephone offices and the two chemists at which she had had accounts. This was New Year's Eve and the public had been warned to avoid the area near the beachfront at all costs. 100,000 people were expected to crowd there, coming down from the country areas packed in African taxis. The previous year there had been a lot of looting and violence and this year all the shops were being boarded up and closing until after the holiday period. I was not very happy about going down to Point Road which was in that very area, because of this warning, but Rajie insisted. She left Nova and me double parked in enormous traffic and went into the chemist. A bus wanted to pass us and Nova had to go into the front seat and drive the unfamiliar car around the block to get out of the way. We both felt a little hysterical. Rajie had said 'your mother wanted me to look after you'. Nova said 'this is looking after you?' Rajie eventually came out of the chemist and we got away from the beach area at last.

Eric was a very kind host although he was hostile about British people and very defensive of South Africa. He kept saying 'don't you believe what you read in the English papers' and I would say 'Eric, the English papers don't say anything, I read the South African papers and see how much violence, crime and terror there is'. He seemed annoyed too that Nova was thinking of emigrating, but apart from this, he was very kind and did not seem to mind the two of us descending on him. In fact he appeared to like having us and said Dawn was so much happier when we were there. He and Dawn often cooked together in the kitchen. We had lovely food all the time. They kept leftovers in their huge fridge and would put various bowls of food out at mealtimes. We might have rice and potatoes and salads and sausages and cold meat and cheeses to choose from.

In the mornings, South Africans get up very early, I suppose because they go to bed earlier than the average English person. I would smell proper coffee being made by Eric in the kitchen at about 5 am. By 6 am we would usually all be outside on the terrace at the back under an awning. It was the only pleasant cool time of the day until later at night. The heat that January was too terrible. It was not only I that felt it, Ann and Nova were used to Joh'burg weather and both felt as drained and exhausted by it as I did. As they say in Durban 'it's not the heat, its the humidity'.

Tracey often came round with Michaela before taking her to the day nursery. Michaela had changed quite a lot from the beautiful baby of the previous year. She was very blonde and pretty but in a different sort of way. She was very sweet and Dawn adored her of course. Sometimes Pam, Dawn's sister and her children came round as well. Visitors seemed to turn up long before 8 am which I thought was quite nice and so different from England.

On New Year's Day, Dawn and Eric had several visitors and Nova had known one of the men quite well when she was a schoolgirl. He was also hostile about English people, particularly me, who I suppose he considered a traitor. It was not very pleasant. The visitors seem to speak to each other, but were saying things which were obviously targetted at me. They greatly admired Margaret Thatcher. I tried to protest a bit but realised it was not worth the trouble. They spoke about friends of theirs who had recently returned from England because the educational system was so poor there and that sort of thing. I just became very quiet and kept out of it. Everything was still so strange and dreamlike anyway.

The people who lived next door to Dawn and Eric were an English immigrant couple and they had gone away for the Christmas period. They had known I was coming and had said to Dawn that they would be pleased if someone stayed in their house to make it look lived in. They also said we could swim in their swimming pool in the front garden. Eric said Nova and I should stay next door for a few days where it would be peaceful.

That night was incredibly sultry. Eric suggested that the four of us should all go and swim next door in the dark. Nova and I had no proper swimming things and Dawn couldn't find hers, so we ended up in our underwear in the pitch dark. I kept a watchful eye on the front door of the house to make sure there were no intruders, but the pool was very close so I presumed it was safe.

If life had seemed unreal up until then, that night I felt it was positively bizarre. Four of us nearly forty years after having previously been together, all in the dark, splashing round in our underwear. I hoped my mother was not watching and would think I was enjoying myself and not being respectful enough.

Then Nova and I went into the house. We dried almost immediately in the heat. It was a beautiful house, like something from 'Homes & Gardens'. There were huge electric ceiling fans to cool the rooms. We found large bedrooms on opposite sides of the passage. Eric had given us milk and coffee and food that we could eat if we were hungry and the kitchen was huge and beautifully appointed too.

The cough which had plagued me throughout November and December had stopped the moment I got to Durban. I hadn't coughed at all in the eight days with my mother. But it came back with a vengeance that night. I coughed so much that it disturbed Nova. I went and sat in the lounge at about 2 am until I was so tired I had to try again to sleep. You get such fanciful ideas in the middle of the night. I wondered if my mother had given me the cough to remind me of her, or something like that. Very silly, I know.

I often wonder how I could possibly have managed without all the help and kindness of friends. I didn't drive and everyone had cars as it was not safe to get about any other way (and not too safe by car either). All the places I had to go to were in different directions and all this is apart from the fact that I wouldn't have known what to do anyway. However bad it all was, I was very lucky in respect of the help I received and I shall never forget how much I owe to Dawn, Eric, Nova, Rajie, Alec and Graham.

That night when I sat up coughing in the sitting room of the strange beautiful house, I thought about my mother's long life, and how her father as I have already said had died in Ongar in Essex, staying with his brother George, Aunt Mabel's husband. My granny had remarried quite soon to a man called Arthur Fletcher who my mother considered her own and only father as she naturally did not remember her real one. Arthur Fletcher was a wonderful loving father to her, but he was not very good as a husband. I don't think he had any romance in him at all. He was practical and loved farming. He took my city-bred granny and her small daughter to a farm in the Orange Free State, near Kroonstad, and there they stayed until he died of lung cancer when my mother was about seventeen. Apparently Arthur was very clever in some ways and built a huge water tank and somehow provided running water to the isolated farm. My mother was a lonely child but not as lonely as my granny who missed her five sisters who lived in Cape Town or Johannesburg. The nearest farm was a long way away. South African farms were huge. The neighbours for all I know may have been 70 miles away or more.

My mother had a friend called Griffie Gardner who came a few times a year to visit. Visits would have lasted quite a while I should think. Then my granny and Griffie's mother would pore over mail order catalogues and talk endlessly about fashion which my mother thought very boring.

My mother was at some stage sent to a boarding school but she had a weak chest and caught pneumonia as the school was unheated and the Free State can be extremely cold on a winter's night as it's on a high plateau. She also had governesses who I assume lived in. They could hardly have got to the farm every day.

When her stepfather died, my mother was distraught and my granny must have been very worried, but at least it meant that they could move back into civilisation. My mother went to a convent in Pretoria and later taught at the same convent though she never had proper teaching qualifications. My granny started running a boarding house to make money but she was too generous with the food and didn't like to charge too much and so she went bankrupt. My mother had to go and give notice to all the boarders and they were very cross and uncomprehending. By then my mother had started earning. My mother as I have previously mentioned, had a succession of jobs, selling, mending dolls, writing an astrology column for a magazine, but mainly she was a teacher although the best jobs required someone who had received proper training. My granny was always poor after her bankruptcy, she always wished she had a little home of her own but never got one. It's sad she never achieved such a modest aim.

My father was very good to her and always paid for her holiday with her sisters and bought anything she needed when my mother asked him to. I never enjoyed visiting my granny in her succession of small gloomy furnished rooms. She loved me but I was not really grateful and did not then understand what sacrifices she made in order to give me special food treats when I visited. I think in spite of all her ups and downs, in the main, my mother had a happier life than her mother had.

Rajie had written out a financial statement for me and had given me the balance of the pension money that I could use to help towards Dawn's housekeeping. I had asked her to make sure Beauty had something and that she took about 700 rand for herself. I wanted to buy a really decent present for Dawn and Eric. Their electric cordless kettle had broken and I bought them a new one that they were delighted about. I had enough money to take Rajie and Nova to lunch at the beautiful Royal Hotel. It was ridiculously cheap compared to England for a four or five star hotel, but to South Africans I don't think it did seem cheap. Rajie and I sorted out library books, closed bank accounts and I spoke to my mother's solicitor who said as she had no estate, he would not administer her Will and he gave it back to me. My mother's bank actually wanted a small amount back to cover charges and so Rajie paid this to keep everything straight. I rang Davie Boy, my old boss, who was now senior partner at the Solicitors, and he told me what to write to the Master of the Supreme Court and how to fill in various forms. Dawn took me to a Police Station where they made certified true copies of the Death Certificate. Rajie, Dawn and I went together to the funeral people and arranged that my mother's ashes would be scattered over the cemetery at Stellawood, where my father was buried.

The Death Certificate, by the way, had been signed by her doctor who had not seen her, and it said she had died from a stroke. I wondered how he knew!

At the undertakers, it was possible to go and view my mother on a certain morning. I went along with the others, but did not go into the actual viewing room. Nova went in but agreed that perhaps I shouldn't. She said nothing was wrong, but it just might upset me. Graham went in and a lot of other friends of hers too. Beauty stayed in so long that we got worried and Nova went in and fetched her out.

A lot of people had telephoned Alec to say they would be coming to the memorial service on the Saturday. I was surprised that two of my cousins on my father's side were planning to come. One was Jackie, the daughter of my uncle from whom we had hidden when I was a child and the other was Constance, the daughter of my uncle who I thought might have died young from eating a watermelon in a contest!

Rajie had asked at Frangipania if any nurses wanted to come. Christophenia and Eunice did want to. They said Matron had forbidden anyone to go but it was their afternoon off, so Rajie's elder son met them a block away from the Home and brought them. Rajie picked up Beauty who had come in from the township and Beauty and the two nurses who were the only Zulus there, had a lot to talk about together. The young white general assistant told Rajie she was too frightened to come as she lived on the premises and Matron would be angry. Ann had to go back to work in Joh'burg and could not stay for the memorial service, but Graham came and brought with him, pieces of writing that Roger had dictated to him over the phone, written by Jennifer, Cathy, Michael, Barbra and Ted. Hearing these upset me most of all, I suppose because they were all so far away and it reminded me of home.

'From Michael:

On your 90th birthday I casually asked if it was about time you grew up. You made it quite clear that it was not, which I am sure was right. I don't know many people whose grandmothers used to lend them pop records but it was helpful for me. You had always got into adventures that I could tell people about., like diving under coaches and getting bitten by black widow spiders. It was as if you tried things out so that other people did not have to experience the pain. I know you led a daring and sometimes lonely life which must have involved some suffering, but you were always able to present the amusing side to comfort and entertain the people you loved.

You were always ready to try things out and give new ideas a chance, but you always stuck firmly to certain old fashioned ideas like kindness and consideration.

Thanks to you I know about astronomy, anatomy and pop music and have a collection of rude jokes. I also have an example of the love and commitment of a relative, despite being the most rude and bad tempered grandchild you could imagine.

Perhaps I was just testing you, well, you certainly passed every test I tried.

Michael'

'From Cathy:

Granny, I will always remember you for your joyful interest in life, your sense of humour and fun and your love for people and animals. Your kind spirit has now been rewarded with peace. I know that you have gone to a better place.

All my love, Cathy'

From Barbra:

'What memories do I have? What do I remember most?

Sitting and talking while you were doing crochet or the making of jewellery. I still have the necklace you made me all those years ago.
Anecdotes and tales of South Africa and of course my visit to South Africa.

You always looked so nice whenever I saw you and I would look forward to seeing you on your visits to England. You gave my mother much pleasure and although in the later years you rarely wrote to each other, you were often in her thoughts and she spoke about you often. I had hoped to see you once again, but it wasn't to be.

Love, Barbra'

From Ted:

'In paying tribute to Deidre Ford I find it difficult to know where to begin. To say she was unique - a one-off - is almost an understatement and I can honestly say I have never met anyone like her before and I know I never will again. I have so many happy memories of her, most notably for her wonderful humour and her almost boundless talent including her wonderful poetry.

I have spent many a happy evening being entertained by her stories of life at Hertford.

She attracted a wide variety of friends, including many young people and she was so young at heart herself. My own daughters class her almost as their own grandmother and my sadness is shared by them at the passing of Granny Ford.'

From Jennifer:

'You always called me "your darling Jen". Well, you were "my darling Granny."
You gave me love, humour and wisdom throughout your life. Everyone who met you could not help being affected by your vibrant personality and wit. Your wonderful sense of humour will always stay with me and I am glad that we were able to share laughter.
These are some of the things that remind me of you:

- The colour mauve
- junket (you used to make me)
- special brussels sprouts in an eggcup (you used to make me)
- the story of the girl in the Chelsea Post Office.

These things may not mean much to others but are important to me.

I consider myself lucky to have been your grand daughter and I hope that I can pass on enough of your spirit to my children so that they grow up loving you and always knowing Gor-Gor.

You will always be alive in my thoughts.

Your loving grand daughter Jen'

I read out my mother's egg cup story written when she was 89 and saw that the two nurses already knew about it. It had started the trouble with the Matron. This is it:

I am an erudite egg cup called ERIC. I always knew I was special, even as the liquid plastic of my body set on its mould in the factory.

Again I felt it as I was packed with my peers and sent to a shop where we were all displayed on a shelf. Later, when I was one of half a dozen picked out by a housewife, I felt even more justification for my pride.

I just knew I was going to be top egg cup in the new home, and so I was, for I was selected to go with the housewife's old aunt into a nursing home for the aged. Sadly the old aunt died and a shrewd housekeeper whipped me off to the kitchen, where I now came into my glory. This was what all my feelings of superiority were about - this was my destiny - to be - wait for it, wait for it - the one and only egg cup in Frangipania Home! On days when two inmates or more fancy a boiled egg, only the lucky one gets me! The others have to struggle with paper serviettes to hold their eggs and save their hands from getting burned. When inmates tell visitors of how unique I am, the visitors are sceptical. 'You surely are exaggerating. How could there be a nursing home with only one egg cup'. Oh, how I savour my triumph, yes, indeed, it's true - I am the one and only egg cup in the whole home, glowing in glorious orange and knowing my worth.

My fame is spreading as inmates convince their guests of my singularity. These visitors will go out to dinner on the story! Idly I wonder if Queen Elizabeth will knight me during her visit to South Africa. Surely in all her realm and in all places where she wields influence, there is no other egg cup lording it alone in any home, hospital, hotel or hostel? All these places have sufficient egg cups to serve their inmates. I call these brethren of mine the hoi polloi! No one can deny the fact that I am solo, I am the one, and am like the sun, alone in my glory! 'Sir Eric' sounds nice, eh?

Christophenia brought a small scrap of paper with a philosophical Zulu proverb about life and death written on it, translated into English and she read it out. I wish I had a copy of it as it was very moving. One lady spoke about how my mother had befriended her at a hotel when she had first come to Durban and was very lonely and Eric spoke very kindly about how remarkably agile my mother's brain had been only a few weeks before her death. Both Rajie's sons, who called my mother 'granny' spoke about her too. Nova read the 23rd Psalm and Alec led us in some prayers. Then everyone moved out on to the verandah at the back where the food was laid out. Nova had to fly back to Johannesburg that afternoon so Dawn and I drove her to the airport straight after the memorial service. That was the 4th January.

I knew I would have to postpone my return flight. I had to make sure all the legal ends were tied up so that Rajie had no problems. There had been so many holidays during the time I had been there that it had been particularly difficult to sort everything out while businesses were closed. There were still many letters to write to my mother's friends all over the country, and I took the addresses from her book which was amongst her papers, and gave people Dawn's phone number so in the following week many people rang me from the Cape and Joh'burg including two of my cousins that lived there. The Airways wanted me to pay quite a lot for the date alteration, which I mentioned to Nova on the phone. She rang back later and said she had spoken to British Airways in Joh'burg and explained the circumstances and insisted that they waive the fee on compassionate grounds and they had agreed. I knew how forceful she could be in her quiet way.

The final nine days in Durban were very different. The main stress was over and Dawn was no longer working. Rajie and Alec came to dinner one night and said they would keep in touch with Dawn and Eric, but this has never happened. I met some of Dawn's friends, we ate out at cafes in the park and in shopping centres. I even met one of her cousins who I had been quite friendly with during the 'Vagabond King'. She was yet another person who did not remember me at all although I had a lot of photos of us together and even remembered her husband, who had been her new boy friend in 1958. (What is it that makes me so forgettable?) There again, this cousin and her mother were slightly anti-English. I had never realised before that it would be this way. We walked around smart shopping malls quite often and I bought a lovely outfit for Michaela for her second birthday. At least it was cool inside the malls, the opposite of England where it's nice to get inside and into the warm.

My cough continued throughout my stay. Eric gave me a special candle which burned soothing oils and I bought cough mixture and pastilles, but all to no avail.

I could have left Durban a little before the 15th, but of course could not keep changing the date. I had had to choose a date well ahead to cover all possibilities. In some small ways it was almost a pleasant time. I had never lived a normal domestic life in Durban in a house with a garden so it was a real experience for me. I went with Dawn to her Book Club. This was a regular thing in Durban where women met each week in rotation at their houses and took a recently read paperback book along with them, which they discussed with the group. Then there was a tea break and anyone could borrow any book they liked and write their name and the date on a list. In other words, it was a sort of library amongst friends. There seemed to be a lot of these local book clubs and I had never heard of anything like this in England. People there just used the libraries.

There were a lot of traffic accidents in South Africa, I believe over a thousand people had been killed on the roads in the week between Christmas and New Year. Presumably there were even more injured. With crime so rampant, I don't think the authorities could keep up with driving offences. The black minibus-taxis were terrifying, they roared along at breakneck speeds, overloaded and apparently drivers could buy driving licences without passing any test. One day when Pam was driving Dawn and me, we had a terrifying near-miss and we thought the taxi was going to turn over, but it righted itself. Pam was afraid as she said you never knew whether the driver would get angry and blame the other driver and we sped away down a side road. It was always stifling hot in cars, it was too dangerous to keep the windows open in many areas that one passed through and doors were always kept locked. I could tell when Dawn or Pam were nervous about going through a particular area.

Dawn and I went to see the day nursery that Graham and Sue were running and I thanked Graham for all his help. He and Dawn also said they would keep in touch, but again, they haven't.

The reason Dawn's son Bradley was not living at home, was because Tracy and Michaela were alone in their new house. As you may remember, her husband had changed his attitude since the shooting and his resultant stroke and they were now getting divorced. Bradley thought there ought to be a man in the house to protect his sister so he had moved in with her.

Michaela's birthday party was on my last Saturday in Durban. I was leaving the following Wednesday. I was desperate for the days to pass quickly. I found the general feeling of fear in the white South African atmosphere very unnerving and the near accident with the minibus had made me nervous even about going out. I knew that people who lived there got used to being watchful and cautious and didn't mind all the security precautions, I think at Pam's house you had to go through about six security locks to get as far as the bedrooms. Although she had a low garden wall, there was at the side of it, a high gate with an entryphone. People thought this was funny at first, but she explained that the gate led to the driveway and the garage. So even if someone stepped over the low wall, they could not steal the car and drive it out because of the high locked gate. Anyway by this time I felt as if I had been in these surroundings much much longer than the three weeks which was all it had actually been. I was also tormented by mosquitoes. I never saw any but my feet and ankles were covered by itchy spots and I even had some on my face. This had never happened when I was a child.

Then life took another rather bizarre turn. Tracey and Bradley had a terrible row. Tracey had a very fiery and abrasive personality and obviously took after Eric rather than Dawn. She had said or done something which really hurt and annoyed Bradley as he felt he was doing all her could to help her. Dawn asked him please not to do anything to spoil the birthday party and he said he would keep away but did not intend to let Tracey get away with her behaviour to him.

For the party Tracey had organised a visit by a brother and sister who ran a charity animal rescue group. They brought various small (and some not so small) animals to show the children and in some cases let them be touched by the children. They raised money for their charity in this way and it was a novel idea. It was well organised and could obviously only be done in good weather and outside which was not a problem in Durban. They brought a groundsheet with them and cleaned up when they left. I can't remember all the animals. I think there was a snake, a barn owl, a donkey, a monkey, a goat, maybe a parrot. It would have been slightly better suited to older children than two year olds, I think five year olds would have been very excited.

Later that evening, Tracey rang Dawn in a frantic rage and said that Bradley had taken her house and car keys to spite her. She couldn't even lock the house properly and was alone with Michaela. We all spoke to Bradley and said he couldn't leave his sister and a baby unprotected at night and eventually he said he would take the keys back to her. Tracey only had a mobile phone so we rang her and said Bradley was on his way. She told us that a friend of hers had been round to put a temporary bolt on the door as she was so nervous, but obviously she wanted the proper keys. As I have said, driving laws did not seem to be strictly enforced at that time. Bradley had drunk a lot of alcohol before he went out. I asked him if he wasn't worried about that and he simply said 'I've never killed anyone yet, don't worry'. I was very shocked. Dawn said nothing anyone said made any difference to Bradley, although he had a good deal of charm.

Tracey rang again and said she had seen Bradley's car pass her house but he had not brought in the keys. Dawn was very worried and told her to go down to the gate from the house which was on a high terrace and see if he had put the keys there somewhere. She kept the phone in her hand as she walked down as Dawn was afraid of her being on her own outside the house in the dark. Apparently Bradley had just flung the house keys out the car window on to the grass verge. But he had not returned the car keys. Dawn said there was nothing we could do until Bradley came home later that night.

On the Sunday morning Dawn woke early and said Bradley had returned in the early hours and was still asleep. She went and looked in the car and found Tracey's car keys. I said I would accompany her to return them to Tracey. However, instead of gratitude for our errand of mercy, Tracey got into a wild rage, grabbed Michaela under her arm and nearly pushed us both out of the way to get down to her car, screaming that she was going to shoot Bradley. She seemed to think Dawn was on Bradley's side. A lot of cars have no seatbelts in them and hers was no exception. Michaela was flung onto the back seat and you have to remember she was only two. There was no toddler seat and Tracey drove off at an incredible pace. Dawn tried to follow but the red car was soon lost a long way ahead of us. I asked Dawn if Tracey had a gun and she said doubtfully that she 'didn't think so'. Lots of people do have guns in South Africa so I was not reassured. Dawn said that perhaps we had better not go to the house in case there was a serious contretemps between the two of them so we went to Pam's house instead. I think Dawn was embarrassed at my witnessing this family squabble. Pam phoned a friend of hers who lived next door to Dawn and she said, she had heard shouting and screaming but that she had also seen Tracey drive away so it must now be over.

Dawn and I went home and no sooner had we got there than Tracey came back, swearing and screaming and said that Bradley had somehow got hold of her mobile phone during their row and she was going to the police to report the theft. I know this may sound like I was over-reacting but I felt really nervous. It was obvious Bradley had hidden the phone somewhere in the house and I thought it just might be somewhere in my room. I had bad memories of South African police and didn't think the new ones were much pleasanter. Tracey had gone off again still dragging Michaela with her, poor little thing. Eric then got into a rage with Bradley and grabbed a broom and started to hit him over the back with it. Bradley bent double and cried 'stop it, stop it'. Dawn was so upset by all this that she too screamed and sort of collapsed onto the floor. Eric was shouting 'look what you've done to your mother' and Dawn was sobbing on the floor. I crouched next to her and she kept saying 'I'm so ashamed' while I tried to say soothing things about it not mattering. Then Pam turned up with her hair in curlers, the neighbour friend had rung her and said there was further trouble. Pam forced tranquillisers into Dawn's mouth, I think rather against her will. Pam was very keen on pills for everything.

Then the police came and I went and hid in my room, still afraid of where the phone would be found. Apparently after the police talked to Bradley, he gave the phone back to Eric and luckily it hadn't been in my room.

Bradley then went out and I didn't see him again at all. I think he went to Pam's house. Pam gave Tracey back the phone and I never saw her again either after the fracas. I felt my presence had made everything worse because they were all embarrassed about my witnessing it all. Dawn slept very soundly that night due to the tranquillisers and during the night I heard a strange groaning sound. I stood in the dark passage but felt I couldn't go barging into a married couple's bedroom but I was worried. In the morning we found out Eric had had further heart pains, he had already had two heart attacks and obviously all this drama was not conducive to keeping him stress free. Dawn said he must go to the doctor and so he did. I can't tell you how worried I was. It may sound selfish, but I thought 'only two more days, please God, don't let Eric die while I'm here, or I couldn't possibly go and leave Dawn alone after all she has done for me'.

I tossed and turned all Monday night and then on Tuesday, my last full day, Eric suggested we go to the beach. I said really I did not want to go out at all. It wasn't a lie to say the heat was too stifling and it was better staying at home, but I was also afraid of the traffic and even of going to the beach. I just didn't want to take any chance at all of anything preventing me getting out of Durban the next day. My nerves were in a very bad state and too many things had been stressful in the last few weeks.

That night, however, Rajie and Alec took me to a farewell dinner at the Royal Hotel. We parked on the rooftop car park and looked at Durban in the sunset. Rajie told me how the Point area was being developed with new restaurants, shops and cinemas. The Point was the area where the sea joined the bay and the harbour. From the rooftop we could clearly see the sea and the bay and the ships. Yet when Rajie discussed the new development, she pointed inland in the other direction. I held my tongue and thought that I was not going to let this irritate me. She had lived in Durban all her life and we could see the Point area. It was Alec who mildly said 'no, over there, Rajie'. I was so grateful to them both, I wanted our last evening to be very pleasant and it was. I made them laugh too, though I never mentioned anything about the family row. It did not seem fair to talk about it to people who knew Dawn and Eric and I have never told Nova or Graham either, although I might tell Nova when she finally emigrates and will never return or see any of the people again.

The next day I was really keen to get to the airport, no matter how early. We went and said goodbye to Pam first and then Dawn drove me there. I wanted to have coffee with her, but it was a strange arrangement and I had to go through Passport Control first and there was nowhere we could be together. All administration procedures are very slow and difficult in the new South Africa. I had a valid British passport and it took a long time and a lot of checking and conferring before they let me through. The fact that I had been born in Durban seemed to worry them. They then told me the weather in London was terrible and we might not be able to land at Heathrow. Jennifer had already warned me about this on the phone.

When I finally got to the departure lounge I just sat there, it was a long wait and I had tears streaming down my face with I don't know what, relief? exhaustion? nostalgia? I thought 'this is my home town, I will never come here again, this is the last time, the end of something and yet I am so happy and so sad'.

The pilot reassured us passengers that British Airways planes would be able to land at Heathrow, though people with connections to other places might have trouble.

I knew the plane arrived in London at about 5.30 am and thought I would wait for the first Jetlink coach from Heathrow to Brighton. I spoke to a lady on the plane who had to change flights and agreed we would have coffee together at Heathrow as we both had a fairly long wait.

When we got near to England, I could even feel the difference in temperature inside the plane. A man complained to me about how cold it was, and I said 'it's so lovely to feel cold again, I've been so unbearably hot'. He thought I was mad of course.

When I emerged into the airport Arrivals section, I was about to walk away towards the refreshment bar, when I saw Ted and Roger coming towards me. I never expected them to be there at such an early hour, and in such bad weather. The relief at seeing them and being home was so great I just burst into tears and when we sat down for coffee, I gave them a garbled version of guns, police, hysterics, heart trouble, seat belts and mobile phones. They probably didn't grasp a word of it!

Read on... Chapter Twenty-two
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