Saturday 26th January 2019

Words cannot describe these dark days, and yet I am going to try.

Meg was 27 years old and hard started a new high pressure job. Her parents divorced before I knew them. Her Father, Mike, is Jools' brother, and is a fine man, even if i say so. But I hope you would trust my judgement. Her Mother, Julie (just to confuse matters) is, a pirce of work. It is difficult to say, but having only met her once before yesterday, I had taken an instant dislike to her, as she dismissed us living in this part of St Maggies as being an "estate".

Anyway, there is more, but I don't know whether to write it. Let me say this, that Julie shares some qualities with my Mother, is self-centered to the point of not seeing anything else but herself in any situation. She is also driven, and drove her children on to always do better, to the point where their best wasn't good enough.

Let me leave it there.

Mike asked us to drive him, his new partner Jane, and Julie to Meg's flat to pick up her stuff and collect her car.

We said yes, but did not know Julie was going to be there.

It was all about Julie. She was dressed up, made up, and doused in perfume, which has set my until then, settled allergies. She fielded calls on the drive up the A2 to Eltham. She was breezy on conversations on the phone, and mixed that was with the usual questions as to why did Meg do it.

Poor Mike sat between Jane and Julie, his ex and current girlfriend, trying to act as peacemaker as well as grieving himself. He did a fine job.

But when we got to Meg's shared house in a typical Metroland street, Julie started using his old nickname, Molly, and was ordering Mike about; Molly this, Molly that, and generally not letting Jools and I get too involved, which was fine.

But before her room was emptied, we had to collect Meg's car from the station the other side of East London where she had left it on Thursday.

So, we drove over to the station, a 35 minute drive back south and west to the main line into Charing Cross. It is a minor station before a large commuter town, where not every train stops.

When we arrived, no trains were running at all, maybe for the best, as workers were cleaning the lineside of vegetation. Mike, Jane and Julie went to place flowers on the platform, and then after 30 minutes, Mike and Jane drove back in Meg's car following us back to the flat.

It was then that Julie began to get really nasty, turning on Jane, saying she wished Jane would butt out. And that when we go to the flat she did not want Jane to touch Meg's things. Which, although was strong, might have just been acceptable.

But she went on, saying Meg had told her that she hated Jane. Which we do not believe. Grief can do many things, but not spreading this poison.

I slammed on the brakes. We were driving up the A20 back into London, and so I blocked the inside lane, I turned to her and screamed for her to shut up.

She tried to argue.

I shouted back, that if she did not shut up, she could get out and walk, or I would just drive back to Dover. She shut up.

In the end back at the house Jane said she did not want to sort through Meg's things anyway, so we just ferried the bags and cases of stuff, putting them in the back of Jen's estate car until it was full.

The arrangements for driving back had to be agreed, and against my wishes Julie sat in the back of the car I was driving, Jen's, and Mike and Jane drove Meg's car back.

Julie sat in silence all the way back sniffing and taking the occasional call to Meg's fiance.

We were just glad to get back to Jen's, say goodbye and leave Julie and Mike to it.

A truly horrible day by a person I have no hesitation in describing as pure evil.