As I was packing the car after an early lunch, I noticed a group of people standing on the pavement and in the roadway outside the Old Man’s house. Eventually, as I was returning to the house, one of the men called out to me: “BLEKE!” I did not immediately know who he was, but I advanced down the garden path towards him, and met him at the garden gate. He was middle-aged, and bald.
The man introduced himself; he doubted that I would remember him, but he was Gerry Goldstein. Gerry, the elder son of Sarah Goldstein, was another of my childhood companions. We shook hands. I told him, truthfully, that I recognised him. I now realised that the people outside the Old Man’s house were waiting for the cars that would take them to Sarah Goldstein’s funeral. I said to Gerry that Mrs CJ had mentioned to me that Mrs Goldstein had died. He was relieved that his mother had passed away quickly, without much suffering.
Gerry asked about the Old Man’s situation, and I told him: “It’s not good.” The Old Man would be going into a care home.
When I got back to Suburbia Somnolenta, I found that Zelda from Cosy Corner had left me a voicemail.
[Original posting 30 November 2011]