SOMEBODY NEEDS A TRIP TO BARNARD CASTLE
Regular readers will know that we live in a fifth floor flat looking out on a cemetery. The months of lockdown have given us a bit more to watch, as more people used the graveyard for their daily exercise, and took the chance to explore the place a bit too. This morning I spotted a man lying, face down, behind one of the taller pieces of monumental stone, topped by a Celtic cross. He wasn't moving, had one arm stretched out in front of him, one leg tucked up. It didn't look like the most comfortable of poses.
When there was no sign of movement for a few minutes I asked Barbara to have a look. And we agreed I should go down and check if he was OK. Before going on with my tale I should make you aware that, because she's been going out so infrequently, she hasn't been wearing her contacts very often, making close up work easier. So she couldn't see much at first, but her glasses helped a bit, and while I got my shoes on she had a go with the binoculars.
I'd seen a bulky man in navy tee and shorts, dark hair, very pink legs and arms. Barbara saw.... a black man lying on a pink blanket. Which the binoculars confirmed. Where I'd looked and seen a drunk who'd passed out, she'd seen a poor refugee with nowhere else to go. And each of us kept on seeing the image the backed up our first impression.
As I was about to open the door she shouted that he was moving. By the time I got back he was, a little unsteadily it appeared, walking off towards the entrance gates. A big guy in navy top and shorts, with the look of someone severely hungover. And yet, so strong was that initial impression, Barbara's question was "Where's the pink blanket?".
Is Specsavers open yet?
