Close Encounters from life experiences …
When I was starting out in London … in the 1970s ... I spent sometime with my father … I'd lost my flat and was looking for somewhere else to live …
… at that stage I was working for a small organisation, near the River Thames, up a narrow flight of Dickensian stairs … well worn by Victorian workers, dark oak, stained … probably full of ancient smoke no doubt if one looked/smelt under the treads …
… then at home-time out into the dark, misty gloom of a London evening – not much changed from the two centuries before …
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| Ancient staircase |
… the walk from there to the tube, where the mist rising from the Thames, swirled around the cast-iron lamps, limiting the murky light struggling through the winter gloom …
My destination was Bond Street and then I'd walk north towards my father's flat … one day – instinct kicked in and I was aware I was being followed … London isn't short of commuters … but not many would come out of Bond Street tube, cross the road and walk the same way I had done …
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| London - Tottenham Court Road tube stattion 1950s or 1960s |
… what to do, I wasn't that young, but hadn't spent much time in London … also hadn't thought about stalking … these sorts of things weren't so discussed or mentioned in the media …
… something clicked as I carried walking up the road, checking that I was still being followed – fortunately I'd spotted a small hotel ...
… at least there was a degree of anonymity in entering the hotel – so I went up to the desk, the guy followed me into the foyer …
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| Victorian cast-iron light stands balefully beaming out ... |
… I explained my situation, showed the receptionist the guy in the dirty-mac (if that's what he had on) … and insisted that the manager was called.
Eventually the manager arrived – the same story was told … and after some thought he said he'd accompany me back to my father's building … and we disappeared out the back.
That thankfully was the end of this little saga – would youngsters today instinctively be aware enough to take evasive action … so many walk along the pavements (sidewalks) umbilically attached to their phones in one way or another …
Close Encounter # two … as a teenager, before Close Encounter # one, I'd come back from a holiday in Italy … agreeing that I'd find my father – yet that wasn't easy … I didn't like to disturb him and it was late at night – and as that was the way in those days, he didn't have a phone in the flat … he spent many hours at work …
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what to do … my mother was in Cornwall – miles away – in the end I phoned some friends of my father's up in Northamptonshire – where my father was now based – well that was eventful – I'm fairly certain I got on the wrong train … so they very kindly had to drive across the Midlands to pick me up – and we got hold of my father the next morning … the days before mobile phones … I became known endearingly as 'Waif'!Close Encounter # three … when I was in Johannesburg, I was walking back to the garage to get my car and go home. As I walked up a major route … a largish group of lads were coming down and started to move in towards the roadside office building wall …
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| Street scene Johannesburg 1970 |
… I realised I couldn't be put in that situation … so moved out into this highway – thankfully empty, but then the cars started to come down – the guys let me pass … and that potentially uncomfortable situation was over.
Plenty (many plenty!) of other Close Encounters … but these three came to mind … I lost the plot with this WEP prompt ... but memories arise ...
I will now be round to read all the entries … thanks for visiting …
Hilary Melton-Butcher
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