The Visitor
It is quite a few months since I had the exciting phone call
from Daniel Bunyard to tell me I was runner up in the Saga life story
competition - out of 5,000 entries. The
winner was to be published by Penguin and the two runners up each got £100.
Daniel said he would like to have a chat about my story and maybe
I could meet him up in
London.
It is a while since I have travelled to the metropolis; the
nearest mainline station is 30 miles away and the bus is a bit of a bone
shaker. One way and another it was not
going to be easy. We decided to leave it
until after the Olympics. Meanwhile
Daniel was very busy getting Tom Daley’s book out. For the whole of the summer I had done
nothing book-wise beyond correcting a few typos.
I got in touch with Daniel again and to my delight and
amazement he said he could probably come to Minehead and wasn’t at all fazed by
the prospect of a bus ride from Taunton to Minehead, although when I questioned
him later he admitted he had been reading and had begun to feel a little queasy
prompting an homily from Pat.
Meanwhile he asked me to send the latest copy of my ms and
he would have it printed out. I swear I
heard a weather forecast which promised an Indian summer on Monday and Tuesday
- but both turned out to be grey, gloomy and damp. Sorry Daniel.
Promptly at 12.30 the doorbell rang and with a deep breath I
raced round the front of the house to avoid bringing him through garage, back
porch and kitchen. I gasped when I
caught sight of him – he looked fresh out of UNI but actually is in his early
thirties. In spite of the weather he was
very taken with the area and our house.
After introductions and expressing our grateful thank for
his epic journey, he and I repaired to the family room for a coffee (he wasn’t
drinking so neither did) and a chat.
Then we joined MTL in the kitchen for lunch (he loved my coddled eggs)
and more chat.
Then back to the family
room for coffee and a chat.
Eventually
Daniel thought he would wander off and get the bus and I was shocked to see it
was almost 3.30pm.
More as a joke than anything I asked if he would like a
cream tea (our French son had suggested we give him the West Country experience)
so back to the kitchen and more chat.
Daniel said he would be in the gym tomorrow – he does cycle about10
miles into work each day and looks extremely fit.
I was really touched that he had gone to so much trouble and
that I had had the benefit of his knowledge and experience for the best part of
three hours. I had realised that my ms
wasn’t as focussed as it needs to be and I was at somewhat of an impasse. Things are clearer now – I have a plan and
it’s up to me to see if I can pull it off.
Whether I manage it or not I know Daniel will help me in another
direction.
He sweetly allowed me to take a photograph of him but my
battery was flat. He wrote in the
Visitor’s book:
It has been so lovely
to meet you and thank you for making me so welcome and for being so open about
discussing your wonderful memoir.
