*at the top of the Royal Albert hall
I’m back in Dubai again. I still think of London, of the nights with wistful spells of melancholy from an ancient breeze. I’m back and somehow London belongs only to me. It’s gone back to being another memory of a memory long past.
I was supposed to buy some stuff on Tuesday night from Harvey Nix and was looking for a taxi at 7,30 p.m. to get there before their closing at 8,00 p.m. but couldn’t find one, so I decided to leave it to the next morning before going to the airport.
I packed and was eager to get on the plane to come back to Dubai, I’ve missed it here and mostly everyone in Dubai. As I got up early to go visit my cousin and to see his new baby before heading out to the airport, I saw many people standing outside of Harvey Nichols and I thought how eager people were to shop today!
The taxi driver was a woman, my first woman driver in the U.K. and she took me through the park. Did she know I was leaving as we strolled down the route across Hyde Park through Kensington Gardens? The peacefulness was more still than a picture, as a painting of a bygone era.
I arrived at my cousins place, and met little Yousef, said Hi to Yasmin and Jessica and got to know Sowda (black one (f)) the cat.
As I left I had to walk down Royal Oak and cross Westbourne Grove to find a taxi, secretly I wished that I hadn’t a plane to catch and didn’t want to find a taxi… Here’s where I spent many summers strolling through the neighborhood and walking around the park. The park, I remember this park and I stood transfixed as I slowly removed mental cobwebs from the images of the few times that I had come here, I then realized that I stood in the middle of the road and had to move away!
As I turned, I found a taxi, jumped in and rested my head against it’s black leather seats, cradling my memories, slight and faint. He had on classical music, some gentle string composition, perfect for a finale, my last ride for this trip through the Gardens and Park.
I went straight to Harvey Nix and as I reached for the door a gentleman standing in front of it said: “I’m sorry but the ground floor is closed, if you’d like to visit other floors then please use the next entrance.” I was baffled and in my rush confused as to why and asked him so, he responded: “I’m sorry but you may have noticed the Royal Police” even more confusing… I thought to myself, what Royal had a dire need to shop on the day that I was traveling! And I asked him if I could not purchase anything at all from the ground floor; no perfume, no hosiery and till when was this going to last?! He seemed amused that I hadn’t quite captured the gravity of the situation and said: “The whole day. I’m not sure if you’re aware but there had been a fatal incident here last night” and all I could say was “Oh”.
It was then that it I realized that the photographers weren’t around because of some celebrity but rather for sadder reasons. I reached the newspaper kiosk to grab an update and the headlines blared “Harvey Nichols Murder Drama – (or something to that effect) before closing time, a gunmen shoots girlfriend and turns gun on himself”
What a sad day…
I headed to the airport and thought of this and many other things and nothing. I wished she had survived, but it was point blank range from behind and in the head, she did not know he was about to kill her – she’d had a restraining order.
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