This morning, we drove to Wimborne - Anne had another appointment with her courtly dentist - in the waiting room of Mouthpeace there was a tank of calming exotic fish - I would watch their scarlet quivering fins - sometimes my boyhood dread of the chair would return - I would hear again the whine of drills behind closed doors, smell the hateful mask enclosing my face -
But today I read memorial tablets in The Minster whilst Anne had her roots cleaned out -
The brother officers of George William Hawtrey Bankes VC, Cornet 7th Hussars honoured his memory - I pictured the boy charging the sepoys, falling from a splendid hunter -
William Fitch Esq gave pious testimony of respect for the dear memory of his ancestors - was the dust of his immediate offspring and their latest posterity mixed with his, I wondered, beneath my feet?
I tried to picture the life of the Rev'd Mr Harry Constantine - I imagined him reading a book of sermons, perhaps keeping a journal of the weather -
Later, on our way back to the car, we passed the offices where Anne's former colleagues were still chasing numbers - she pointed out the window above her desk - I thought of all the hours we spend working, the counting cleverness, the terrible devouring of our time -
12.00
January 6 2015
Wimborne
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