Last night I treated myself to watching ‘Ladies in Lavendar’, being reminded of this gentle, innocent, magical story with the news of Maggie Smith passing a few weeks ago.
FLASH!
LONDON…1984
In mid February I had received news that a special friend of mine, who lived in Peterborough, England, was seriously down for count with lupus and wanted me to be with her.
I, as a single mother to two young daughters, was living in Charleston, South Carolina.
Of course I would come!
“You are WHAT?” said newly divorced former husband.
“Yes.” says I, “And what a perfect time for you and the girls to be together! Valentine’s Day is around the corner…it will be fun for all of you!”.
“And how, exactly, are you going to afford this?” says he.
“I’m not sure,” says I, “but I will figure it out.”
I climbed onto a bus in Charleston and climbed off in NYC. From there I took a special transit vehicle to a sort of dive outside of Kennedy Airport and was escorted into a room with a giant map of the world on the wall, and pins with flags dotting it solidly. Sitting on fold up chairs all ‘round were gypsy types…dancers…actors…maybe runaways? I’m not sure. We all sat in silence, each of us with one carry on bag as this had been the instructions. Every one of us would have free round trip passage to wherever we had signed up for.
This was a non commercial courier service, non advertised, very strange, and I do not remember how it fell into my lap. An intense young man came into the room, re-informed us that we were to follow our instructions EXACTLY and move quickly when he called our name.
People were called and disappeared. My turn. I was taken into a private room. My destination of Heathrow confirmed. I was handed a packet with instructions to not let in off my body for a moment. Then I was given instructions to maneuver 27 large suitcases through customs in London. Then I would be free to go.
And by the way, FIRST CLASS! My one and only time, and I sat next to a rock musician.
I navigated all that had been assigned to me, handing the packet off to a man in a brown hat after turning right and left and right, and the 27 suitcases breezed through…then the train to Peterborough. I had brought $50 with me for a month.
I found my friend in her castle-like abode. England in February in a faux castle was freezing, and she was cranky. She hadn’t imagined that I would actually appear and apparently, even though from a distance she had passionately implored me to come, she hadn’t counted on her emotions being up and down, but mostly down with her condition, and her crankness never-ending. She thought that perhaps things would improve if we flew together over to the south of France, where she had another home. I paid $20 for the flight and off we went. A supreme tale of survival and hilarity followed as this was not a good plan and she abandoned me. I was now in the south of France, due to leave London on my free flight in two weeks and I had $30.
That is a tale for another time. By the time I made it back to England with one day to go, I stayed in a hole in the wall for the night. I had the equivalent of FIVE DOLLARS in my pocket. There was no way on earth I was going to go home with leftover money after all that I fanagled, and so I found out that there was a matinee performance of the Royal Shakespeare’s ‘Mother Courage’ with Judi Dench and Zoe Wanamaker, and tickets for sale.
I sat in the third row center and basked.
AND three years later, in NYC, I saw Maggie Smith in ‘Lettice and Lovage.”
These memories, all because of ‘Ladies in Lavendar’.
WHAT an incredible duo…those two women…brilliant, stunningly brilliant, human beings.
Now go watch “Ladies in Lavendar’!