Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
down to warn Hamish not to come in. It would have been too much for him. We'd
both wanted Alex to go to Cambridge.'
My afternoon with Jean passed and darkness crept under the kitchen door. With
it, sadness replaced the laughter and glasses of Scotch replaced the coffee. Jean re-
minded me of the conversation we always had before Alex and I set off for the Alps
or further afield. 'Look after my little boy won't you John? He can do stupid things
I know, and take too many chances, but you'll do your best won't you? Bring him
back to me.'
Now our sense of loss was complete. I could only imagine how much deeper it
was for Jean. I found myself trying to define where responsibility for the actions of
other people ends and where individual responsibility begins. I didn't know then,
and do not know now. I broke away to a new subject.
'Would Alex be a barrister today, do you think? Wearing a proper black tie and
white shirts to dinner parties?'
'I'm not sure really. Maybe he would have stuck with the law. Sarah told me she
thought he would be a great TV presenter, with his personality and gift of the gab.
One thing's for sure, he'd have a bit of a laugh at the idea that you'd be writing a
book about him. Or as John Barry said, have a climbing hut named after him.'
I suggested another career, having mentally reconstructed the list of routes and
pieces of equipment that he designed and which might have borne his name.
'Don't you think he might have been a climbing equipment designer?'
'You know John, I would have enjoyed whatever he would have been. We all
knew he would be a success, that's what we wanted to share.'
I accepted a strong coffee and prepared myself for the six-hour journey back up
the motorway to the Lakes, a journey I'd made many times with Alex. Jean re-
minded me of one poignant moment as we stood at the door saying goodbye. 'That
last morning we saw you at the airport, John, it was so strange. We were late and
you were there waiting outside the terminal with a pile of bags. The reason we
were late was we'd gone ten miles when Alex said: “Turn round Mum, I've forgot-
ten my passport.” By the time we arrived at the airport, there was no time for the
usual goodbyes. He had to dash, but he did something he had never done before.
He ran back and put his head through the window and said: “Look after Sarah and
Libby for me.” It was quite strange. It was not like him to come back and say any-
thing. I have wondered sometimes if he had a premonition.'
I suddenly recalled that moment, me shouting: 'Come on, Alex! We're going to
miss the plane.' And Jean and I had failed to say goodbye. We had missed our
parting ritual, that little conversation to one side when Jean would tell me to look
