This thought-provoking exhibition explores the importance of the artist as eyewitness, providing insights not only into warfare but also the impact of war on those involved and the communities affected. It includes artwork from the First and Second World War, as well as recent work by award-winning artist George Butler of the war in Ukraine.’
If you have returned after yesterday’s visit to the Russell Cotes Museum have a look round the gallery.
If you are reading this I am probably dead. I wonder who found me? A police officer, the neighbours… did my solicitor pass the letter on to you?
Of course, it may be that you yourself called in unexpectedly and got a shock. But this is not a suicide note. I have no idea as I write this when or how I might die. I am fit and well, but it is the elderly well living alone who are prone to dropping dead suddenly, a nice way to go for the deceased, maybe not for anyone else involved, so best to be prepared. Hopefully my departure will be dignified, tucked up in bed or sitting in my recliner with a good book in my lap, not the way your poor father went.
I could be a skeleton, preferable to a less advanced state of decomposition. Perhaps if you had phoned more often, or at all, I would not have reached that state. Scooped up by the council for a pauper’s funeral.
There is no need to contact my solicitor; no money, no house to sell, I did one of those release your capital schemes. I had a great time spending it on myself, or rather working out how best to spend it on myself. Tried a cruise, but that was full of old people, too depressing, though it livened up when a chap fell overboard. You wouldn’t believe how long it takes a floating tower block to stop, let alone turn around. Of course there was no chance of finding him. His wife apologised for us missing our next port and urged the captain to get underway. We reassured her that she might as well enjoy the rest of the cruise.
Where was I, oh yes, in the end I decided to buy an art gallery and exhibit the entire collection of my art. The young man next door got down those larger paintings you put in the loft. I am having a good deal of success under my pseudonym. I also have an adjacent studio, exploring my third age creativity and inviting young artists to share the space. If you came across my gallery you would be unlikely to recognise it as mine as you never looked at any of my paintings or sculptures.
Well Michael, it was good while it lasted, until you were about ten. Enjoy the rest of your life.
Mother
‘Amelia, Mrs Haversham, can you hear me, I’m a doctor, you’re in hospital. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, you have been in a coma for three months, you had a stroke. Your son is here. …Talk to her Michael… ‘
‘This is a special book – CHRISTMAS 2025 OUR FAMILY’
‘Old photos, who wants to look at old photos?’
‘I do, they must have lived in this house.’
‘Ha ha, look at what they are wearing.’
‘The garden has changed a lot since then, rather cute, flowers all different colours.’
‘Boring, turn over…. Yuk, what is that?’
‘A baby, what some people used to have instead of cats.’
‘Why?’
‘Not sure, maybe all will be revealed if we keep turning the pages.’
‘Why are they sitting on the ground looking at water?’
‘I’ll do a historic data check…. Sea side, that’s what a beach looks like…’
‘Boring, turn to the next page. That baby thingy seems to be getting bigger.’
‘I’ll data check… it’s growing.’
‘Why?’
‘It doesn’t say, just that they grow quickly.’
‘Keep going, oh it’s standing up, I wouldn’t want one of those things clinging to my leg.’
‘Look, here’s the front of our house, more flowers, lots more people, wonder how many lived here?’
‘Strange clothes, next page… they have put those baby things in boxes with wheels, our cats wouldn’t put up with that. Last page, what on earth is that great big green thing? I’ll data check… a Christmas tree, a tree chopped down and put indoors, no wonder there aren’t any trees left outside.’
‘Right, it’s time we went to check if the cats have finished playing with the humans.’
When you get carried away with your Christmas lights…
A Heavenly message ?
Or a Harbinger of Doom?
It’s raining here, but thanks to digital magic here is my favourite brightest Christmas tree from Australia.
Don’t know how I managed that, the bottom 12 % must be really rubbish! Minutes spent includes being distracted, playing with your phone, answering the doorbell and falling asleep – discovering the next morning you are still in the middle of a lesson.
The front door slammed and she sighed with relief, that was everyone gone to work and school and she could have a good tidy up. She switched the radio on, what rubbish had they been listening to? She turned over to Radio 4, bound to be someone talking about something clever. At least they had put the dishwasher on, but what was that letter doing on the counter top? Just rubbish by the look of it, recycling box.
She drifted into the hall where a bright pink glove lay on the floor, Evie’s, her hands would be cold, it was frosty out. Car keys just dropped in that dish, don’t they ever think about security? Mason’s scarf left on the stairs, probably deliberately, he always insists he won’t be cold. She picked the scarf up and carried on up the stairs.
The bedrooms were a complete mess as usual, well making beds was not on her agenda. On the landing she tried to straighten up the ghastly picture, but it fell off the wall, hook fallen out. Dan would have to fix that, it was about time he improved his DIY skills. Someone was going to trip over that toy truck, put it away safely. She could do with a cup of coffee, pity she wasn’t drinking it any more. £20 note just lying on top of the dresser, put that in the money pot, see if anyone missed it.
She looked out of the front bedroom window, new people moving in across the road, how many times had that place changed hands? Library book on the floor, hmm due back tomorrow, better put it by the front door …and reading glasses on the floor, they could go safely in that drawer.
Was that the time already, end of the peace and quiet…
‘Don’t leave your school bags on the floor… no not till you have got changed and done your homework….. I can hear voices in the kitchen! Wait in the hall. It’s okay, the radio was on, but I’m sure I switched if off and I never listen to Radio Four… I’m coming upstairs to make sure you’re getting changed and not playing with… hey who knocked Grandma’s painting down.’
‘Not me it was Evie.’
‘No it wasn’t, it was Mason.’
Hello Darling, hello kids.’
‘Dan, can you fetch my reading glasses down, they’re by the bed. I need to read the instructions on this packet.’
‘Who knocked the picture down, I only put it up last week. Couldn’t see your glasses.’
‘They are with my library book.’
‘Just give me the packet, I’ll read it out to you… See what you mean about the tiny writing, well whatever you are supposed to do you have to do it for five minutes. Now where is that letter I got yesterday, I left it in the kitchen so I would not forget to phone them.’
‘Mummy, where’s my new truck?’
‘I don’t know, where did you leave it, surely it’s too big to lose.’
‘I can’t find my reading glasses anywhere and I can’t find the library book. It’s book club tomorrow and I still have two more chapters to go.’
‘Why do you have to read in bed anyway?’
‘I always read in bed.’
‘Borrow my Kindle, you can just make the writing big, now that’s funny, when did I last have my Kindle?’
‘How am I supposed to know?’
‘Evie, did you find your other glove? Mason will you put your scarf on, there’s a cold wind. What do you mean you can’t find it? Not on the coat hook or in your school bag? Look it’s getting late, I think we’d better go in the car. That’s funny, where are the car keys?’
‘Hello Darling, how was your day?’
‘Don’t ask… Dan, do you think I’m going through the perimenopause?’
‘The peri what?’
‘Brain fog, I keep losing things, or at least forgetting where I’ve put them.’
‘Everyone mislays things. You wanted a nice big house, but it’s easier to lose things than when we were in the flat. Either that or it’s haunted, like on that programme ha ha.’
‘Dan, you don’t really think… the neighbours reckon we got this place cheaper because some old lady died here and her family wanted to sell quickly.’
‘Cos they needed the money probably. Well it was our luck.’
‘Certainly was and all clean and tidy when we viewed it, not like we were expecting, good thing she can’t see it now.’
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 