Author: Thomas Kelly

  After lunch I left my mother sleeping on the sofa. She has not cut her hair for over a year so her head is heavy with a silver bearskin. We know and see she is not the debutante she was in 1950 turning rooms and causing men to demand dances and to desire. But…

  Tonight we had our Carol Service in Chilbolton. It was a full church, maybe we were the youngest but my eye caught the memorial plaque on the East Wall. I had seen it before but tonight thought about it in more detail and wondered who still thought of him buried at sea off the…

  Throgmorton Lane, Post Office Court Gerrard and National, Warburgs; they all came to nought. The Lamb, Simpsons, George and Vulture Raffles, The Antelope, Number 19 and Hair Sculpture. Honda 70, BSA, Golf and Passat Henrietta, Carol, rich and poor Anthony and all that. Sutherland Place, King’s Road and Sloane Street The Caledonian and Special…

My mother of 87 has dementia. Her memory has vanished and as the brain deteriorates the conversation becomes more disjointed. She is in an amused and out of reasoning state so that every sentence of hers becomes a question, always repeated and whatever the answer, back comes another question. What day is it, have you…

  Manor House 1967   ‘There are three thieves in this room’ boomed the headmaster, picking his words deliberately and emphasizing the word thieves. He looked over his half-moon spectacles, sweeping his gaze around the room as he stared us down. He knew who was the subject of his anger. All the boys were assembled…

  From Waterloo I picked my way past garish loud bars with incongruous names, The Iguana and The Jazz and made my way towards Charing Cross. The bridge over the river bounced with footfall and was thronging-full with visitors taking selfies, carefully avoiding the beggars at their feet who thrust their empty Costa coffee cups…

  Summer Term 1965 Manor House was a very traditional English boarding prep school. The teachers were unqualified but enthusiastic. Winco taught us maths, he had been in the RAF and Squeaky Norman history. He had been a POW in Thailand hence his voice. All the masters smoked, the trainee matrons were objects of our…

It is often said that if you want a friend, get a dog or better still two dogs. And so escaping from the sadness of my mother’s house for a few moments, I found a dog friendly cafe in the High Street of Chard. This is a gem of a place with local art on…

Life in Chard is terribly hard I am alone with my two dogs walking in the rain as usual around the circumference of Snowdon Park in Chard. They trot with claws clicking on the path, blinking as rain hits them. This is a lovely open space which is much used and well loved. The asphalt…

One of my clients was a fabulously wealthy Sheikh who lived in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia. His background was as strange as he was. A Kuwaiti by birth, he managed to marry into one of the largest and therefore influential families in the Kingdom, The Algusaibis. From that he built an empire with…