With a sense of anxiety bubbling in my stomach,
before dawn broke, I tried to gather my faculties.
At 3am I was watching shooting stars of the astronomical
kind in a clear but crowded sky, sans orange glow or city
lights to obscure the glory.
All confidence had dripped away.
I would know no one, be in a daunting environment,be in
the same space as someone I admire immensely.
People might be beyond me intellectually and in terms
of sophistication.
I was engulfed in an inferiority complex that has trailed
me since forever and, at the last minute, has given me
endless excuses to duck out of difficult situations and
then berate myself for missing out.
Telling myself that I was as good as anyone else, that I
only had myself to blame if I missed this, I steeled
myself and we set out for That London as daybreak started
to evaporate the rime, so that wispy misty drifts flowed
erratically across fields and hedges.
It was early enough for a herd of deer to linger
behind a hedge close to the road.
We filled up with diesel, the queue and checkout
woman still yawning and coming to.
On the outskirts of The Great Wen the traffic thickened.
I developed palpitations which increased as the husky voice
of the satnav variously sent us left, right,straight on,
obviously using a long out of date map.
All our factored in time for delays drained away and with a minute
to spare we steered INSIDE the black barriers beyond the visitors
entrance of The Mother of Parliaments.
In my sweaty little paw I juggled the invitations and confirmatory
emails ready to prove our right to infringe the usually forbidden areas.
We were at checkpoint/border posts.
A cheerful helmeted bobby got us through the first and handed us on
to terser, more aloof colleagues with guns and mirrors.
The car was trapped between mini ramparts that rose
back and front from the earth and the vehicle was searched
inside and out before we were ushered on.
Our host met us and took us through the personal security procedure.
I didn't warrant a photograph on my pass being too low down,
because of the wheelchair, for the camera.
Then on through inner courtyards, through the village
that is Parliament, passed stonework shrouded in plastic,
regiments of cast iron tiles being cleaned or replaced,
weaving and dodging past cages of provisions
disappearing up dim corridors.
At last we entered Westminster Hall and inside the cordon
I got my first glimpse of my fellow society members,
my first opportunity to assess what I had joined.
We seemed a varied bunch with the age range
weighted towards the middle aged and elderly.
I felt reassured,
It was much as I had expected.
The Secretary welcomed me and at last I could put faces to email tags.
I think I was a little anxious about the possible inconveniences
the wheelchair might engender and any discomfort its presence
might give to others but there we were and soon setting off
to our first point of assembly, ahead of everyone else
because of the different route needed for the chair.
It was a recurrent feature of the day and I decided to be positive about it -
it would give me a different perspective and view from anyone else.
The tour took over an hour and our guide vied with the presence
and hubbub of other guides and groups in trying to show us everything
and guide us through chambers and spaces.
The visual senses are overwhelmed with the pre-raphaelite,
mock Gothic decoration, with ceilings dripping in gold leaf and complex designs.
There was also the character of the group and I felt at home,
perhaps too much so, in the company of so many elderly people
muttering that they couldn't hear the guide,
wandering off to look at things themselves or engaging in
diverse conversations with friends not seen since the last meet-up.
Our shepherd tried his best, was exasperated with other guides who
transgressed time and space, fielded quixotic questions,
and long over ran his allotted time.
There is an element of change coming as all the guides are being re-trained
and this obviously rankled, bringing challenges to perceived competence
and suspicion of increased vigilance and uniformity.
Hurrying on now we made our way to the marquee on the House of Lords
terrace and the reception.
This bright autumnal day was perfect for the view of the Thames
and London Eye.
Quiet servers started to circulate with drinks, people drifted out
on to the terrace and finally someone braved breaking the ice
with wheelchair woman.
I tried to guess who might be who, identified Norma Major, and
then Edward Petherbridge and his wife arrived.
Like a silly young thing I became flushed and starry eyed,
finally seeing someone I had come to admire so much,
not just for his Lord Peter Wimsey but the plethora of his other
work.
OMG! The editor of the society bulletin is speaking to him,
gesturing towards me and they are coming over.
How could she do this?
I shall be either dumb or inane.
Nevertheless, here he is shaking my hand.
I had already drawn my son's attention and asked him
to get a picture as EP gave his reading from the new novel.
What came out in a sequence of photographs,
on the mobile phone camera, was the mortifying sight
of my raised index finger pointing, for all the world looking
as if I was wagging it, at this lovely man.
What I was saying is a blur but I am absolutely certain it wasn't
anything in the least bit admonitory, but it's a gesture I loathe.
The saving grace was that EP was laughing.
He was kind enough to remember my weekly comments to
his weekly posts positively and spend some time talking
about various aspects of his work, amongst other things.
My day was more than complete.
Then he had to go, I had to go.
Son and I retraced our steps down ramps, in service lifts,
down back corridors, and into Black Rod's car park.
We both sat savouring the moments and
asking ourselves if it had all really happened as it seemed.
Almost euphorically we dived into London's traffic
ready to take our chances, enboldened!
My whimsy had taken me into a place and situation
I had not expected to be in three months ago.
Thank goodness that damned reticence had been grappled
with and discharged, this time!
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