Letters to Grandfather

A semi-autobiographical story. Sarah Phillips's grandfather has just passed away. She copes with the loss by writing in a diary like she is writing to him.


16. 27 October 2013

Dear Grandad,
I had a strange dream last night.  Richard Martin was in it.  I probably mentioned home a lot when I was in secondary school.
I dreamt that I was his girlfriend.  We were in our old school uniform – Pitholo green polo shirt, black trousers, white socks and black shoes.  I was also wearing my old Aigle fleece jacket, and Richard was wearing a blue anorak-type jacket.  It was early evening, probably around the present time of year, and we were walking the way I used to walk to school (towards the railway bridge) and we were holding hands.  His hand felt really warm in mine, not sweaty and disgusting.  It was actually real rather nice.
There was a big crowd of students walking the same way we were.  Then I saw Dad in the crowd; he seemed to tower over the students.  I remember being nervous seeing him, like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.  I think I looked at Richard because I remember seeing him calm with a smile on his face.  I don’t remember what happened next, but I do remember, with clarity, him turning to kiss me.  And he did.  I won’t go into details, but it was very memorable for me. I felt as giddy as a school girl afterwards; ironic, really, considering that I was a schoolgirl in the dream.  And then I woke up.
Throughout the dream, I felt like I was about 13 or 14; since that was the time that I started fancying Richard.
I haven’t thought about him in months; in fact I had almost completely forgotten about him.  And I can’t for the life of me think why I would be dreaming of him now after five years when I haven’t seen or spoken to him since we graduated from secondary school.  Especially after the last time I saw him.
I don’t think I ever told you this, Grandad, but Richard actually went out with one of my friends at school.  Her name was Kate.  The thing about her is that she’s severely dyslexic, so she acts a bit strangely at times.
At our Year 11 Leaver’s Ball, he started badmouthing about her.  Kate was mortified by some of the things that he said.  He got me so angry that I was sorely tempted to march right up to him slap him across the face!  I don’t remember ever being that angry before, nor since.  It took everything I had not to start screaming at him at the time!  Needless to say that I stopped fancying him after that.
Anyway, enough about Richard Martin!
I worked in the garden with Mum this morning, mostly tidying it up.  Afterwards I worked on my story ideas on my laptop.  All in all, it’s been a quiet day for me; apart from that dream.
Looking back on the last entry, I promised to write more about Friday evening.
Driving home was mostly quiet.  No silly drivers, but there were a few stupids (pheasants) wandering about in the road out Banbury.  I swear they must have inherent suicidal tendencies, because as soon as you approach they run out into the road!  Once I got in, I called Granny to let her know I’d got home safely.
That’s pretty much all.
I’ll write again in within the next few days.


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