Author: Thomas Kelly

  Time is the only commodity that you can not give. You can not charge it, have credit and you are always in deficit. You need to meet the Zeitgeber. He is a beast that you want. He will give you time taken from those who have lost it. He lives in a dark place,…

First week of July: Amanda came round to watch Wimbledon on my TV. She made rather a meal about me not having a colour set (unlike her parents). In my view, one loses nothing in black and white and as far as sport is concerned the definition is better. She is obsessed by a scruffy…

    Two cars and a lorry that shaped my life In 1975 I came back from Kuwait to start my first job. Japanese cars then were way ahead of the competition with radios, exciting quivering gauges and good heaters as standard. So I wanted one. My parents had taught me to drive on an…

  Dusk always comes early in Manama, it being closer to the equator than other countries. We expatriates who live in the villas by Adliya in the restaurant area draw down our blinds at six and offer ourselves large measures of Indian manufactured gin called London Bridge and whiskey named after that famous and well…

  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…