The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Dad gave me a lift to see Martin at the St. Catherine’s Community Centre. On the way he’d reminded me that the front windows needed doing. So, I knew immediately what I’d be doing once home. Then again, as it was sunny and pleasant, with just a faint chill in the air, I hadn’t minded, whatsoever. As we travelled there, I asked Dad, “What’s your earliest memory?” After a few moments thought he’d answered, “Getting a cowboy suit, for my birthday.” And, that’d been in Romford Essex, about eighty two years prior. Anyway, once at the centre, I’d waited in the kitchen area, with a black coffee, watching what went on. Finally Martin had arrived and taken care of a few matters before getting to me. He had been very helpful, considering his lack of sleep due to his son’s broken arm, during the night. With my papers filled in and advice taken I’d walked roads I recalled from many years previous, my camera in hand, ready for any shots that piqued my interest. Needless to say, once home, I’d seen to the windows as promised, before making the casserole.



After I saw to my end of the housework on Thursday I went to the village to get my coin, on a back-to-normal grey day. While in the village I decided to call on Barry, prior to him going for a sten dash stent, to open a valve and, theoretically, be able to take onboard food, which he damn well needs. Heck, four months earlier I saw him climb a wall over twenty feet high and now, he has lost two and a half stone and weighs even less than me: and that is not good. Anyway, I had stayed as long as he felt comfortable, prior to being picked up. As I left I’d wished he’d let me do more for him than a few dishes, but even that had embarrassed him. Darn awkward stubborn Scorpio’s – what can you do with ‘em!?! Anyway, come the evening I went to see Karl, thankful to be getting out and about and, a tad irked to hear that the machine he’s getting together for me can’t be a seven machine… well, it seems so, so far…



On the way to the Azda with Dad I got to wonder, whether Barry was to have his surgery at nine in the evening. Either way, it’d been about half-nine, so I’d got to wondering dash hoping, that my friend was alright. Come the afternoon, I’d wound myself up with my wondering that I’d taken myself for a walk to the Mere, meeting someone I have known, who irritated and, wanted me to accept an apology. I’m still unsure about him. As it happens, he’d said, I’ll meet you at the Mere later and, I’d guessed I wouldn’t and that he’d use that as an avenue to call. With many thoughts in mind I had sat on the wall awhile, watching the ducks managing the ice as they sought out a small pool of unfrozen water near the steps. And, I had been right, the fellow had phoned, telling me he was sorry for not phoning, but would keep in touch…



Come Saturday the weather was back to it’s English grey-dayness. After a brief walk to the shops, for prunes for Dad, I went to the Mere, seeking my thinking place and, some quiet time, spent in a beautiful place, my peaceful place. Upon my return I had a phone-call, as I had been making tea: it had been Barry. It turns out he had been for surgery and that the doctors had not been able to access where they needed to, but would try again on the Tuesday. After tea, I rested well, knowing Barry was ‘alright’.



Well, tempus fugit, times flies… and, a lot can happen in just a few days…



My Mum’s Aunty Anne died recently, I learnt on Monday, the last of the Blazeby’s, Mum’s other side of her family. And, Barry’s nephew rang, to tell me he was dying. And then, to add insult to injury, the dole are saying the same as they did way before Christmas, before I claimed ESA.



My Father paid their debt: he took his money back, intended for his funeral and I have what I have left… which is not much.



I’m at a loss as to what to do other than send copies of my remaining accounts to ‘them’, whoever ‘they are’; and then wait, for them to change the rules on me, again.



If it sounds like I’m paranoid and feel ‘they’ are out to get me: well truth be told, that’s how I feel, some day’s. But, I’m not finished…



On Tuesday, as I’m waiting for Mike to pick me up to gosee Barry, I get a phonecall from his son’s partner… Barry had died at 11:40 a.m. Tuesday 10th February 2015



He had been just under a month older than me and up till four months ago, would climb a twenty foot wall: I know, I’ve seen him do it. And, now he’s gone…



Well, early morning had seen me editing a film; writing three letters and just watched Dolph Lungren and Ben Cross in ‘Mechanik’. And, it had been bittersweet, hearing Barry’s voice as he spoke to camera, particularly when he said, ‘till the next time.’

Dad gave me a lift to see Martin at the St. Catherine’s Community Centre. On the way he’d reminded me that the front windows needed doing. So, I knew immediately what I’d be doing once home. Then again, as it was sunny and pleasant, with just a faint chill in the air, I hadn’t minded, whatsoever. As we travelled there, I asked Dad, “What’s your earliest memory?” After a few moments thought he’d answered, “Getting a cowboy suit, for my birthday.” And, that’d been in Romford Essex, about eighty two years prior. Anyway, once at the centre, I’d waited in the kitchen area, with a black coffee, watching what went on. Finally Martin had arrived and taken care of a few matters before getting to me. He had been very helpful, considering his lack of sleep due to his son’s broken arm, during the night. With my papers filled in and advice taken I’d walked roads I recalled from many years previous, my camera in hand, ready for any shots that piqued my interest. Needless to say, once home, I’d seen to the windows as promised, before making the casserole.



After I saw to my end of the housework on Thursday I went to the village to get my coin, on a back-to-normal grey day. While in the village I decided to call on Barry, prior to him going for a sten dash stent, to open a valve and, theoretically, be able to take onboard food, which he damn well needs. Heck, four months earlier I saw him climb a wall over twenty feet high and now, he has lost two and a half stone and weighs even less than me: and that is not good. Anyway, I had stayed as long as he felt comfortable, prior to being picked up. As I left I’d wished he’d let me do more for him than a few dishes, but even that had embarrassed him. Darn awkward stubborn Scorpio’s – what can you do with ‘em!?! Anyway, come the evening I went to see Karl, thankful to be getting out and about and, a tad irked to hear that the machine he’s getting together for me can’t be a seven machine… well, it seems so, so far…

I did not sleep well Wednesday night, Thursday morning, constantly thinking of the meeting I had at one 0’clock. Well, Dad had given me a lift after housework and his eats, getting me there with time to spare, or so I had thought. As it happens, I’d been a day early, which had thrown me goodstyle. But, one good thing about it had been that it gave me a chance to talk with the fellow behind the desk, who was booked with me for the Friday. Then I had travelled on my way back home slowly, calling in on old haunts from years earlier… The next day I was back in Tranmere again, at the office to see this fellow Martin, who was to help me with two matters, both of which have been irksome, for the last two months, or so. I had sat and chatted with Matin quite awhile and at the end, he had aid, “Now, all I need is your signature.” And, it seemed that we had filled in the form I knew I’d have difficulty with. It had been then that we had talked of my “Dole-mess”, as I’d called it, bringing in one of his colleagues, who was willing to help... And, as it turned out, the fellow who’d caome over to where we sat was more of a help than at first envisaged, as it turned out he knew my MP’s PA and given the fellow enough information about my “Dole-mess” for the fellow to begin to assist, initially with a call to the dole from himself, then a brief conversation wherein it transpired that I should provide certain proof’s for him, to aid my case.

And, when Simon, Martin’s colleague had offered my email, the fellow on the phone had told Simon, “Oh, we know Mister Kendrick.” Well, come the evening, the first thing I did after my knee-rest was sort our my files and photocopy my Nationwide passbook, then send said information to my MP’s email, knowing her PA would be reading it first thing Monday morning. Well, as I told Barry on Saturday, “I slept well last night, feeling like I’d done something… positive, to help…”



*



As Barry and I travelled homeward from EllesmerePort I asked him, “Do you know how old I’ll be in 2025? And, do you recall Zagar & Evans?” I’d meant 2025 and not got the date quite right for the song … “in 2525, if man I still alive” … but in 20125, I’ll be sixty-five…



*



Come Monday or Friday, I did what the doctor had requested and went for a chest xray, being given a lift there from my Dad. I had expected to get the 84 bus home, but accidentally got the wrong bus, which I’d not realized until I was half way round the Wirral and on the way to Heswall. And, as the journey was a good one, I carried on with it… Then, when I got off at Heswall, I ended up getting back onto the same bus homeward… all very long-winded, but quite pleasant indeed.



I saw Barry mid-week and thankfully he now looks less like Fu-Man Chu than he had at the weekend last. Back then I’d seen how he looked before he had noticed how much he had turned yellow, in the rearview mirror. At least he did look a little better than he had…



On Friday, after shopping, I had called on Barry, just as the weather had turned out as rotten as it had been the night before.



I got home to find a letter from the dole dash ESA in which they say that in order to expedite a revision of my benefit they required an update of four accounts, only one of which I recognized. I’d ended up phoning the advice-line, to be told that my course of action was to write and tell them I have no knowledge of said accounts. Still feeling panicky, I’d phoned both my MP’s PA and the advice centre who have been helping to me; then having done what I could I’d decided to go out, as intended.



Whilst out and about, I’d called at Barry’s and been pleased to see him looking alright; not brilliant, but good.



We’d chatted awhile and I’d got a lift home, as he saw to business, smiling…