Interesting if grim

Today we went to an inquest.  We discouraged the rest of the family from coming, and of course reported back to them afterwards.  There was little in the day’s business that we didn’t know: we had read the evidential bundle, which the coroner had to read in open court for the record.  The consultant pathologist who did the PM gave evidence by audio link (video having failed), answering questions from the coroner and from Martyn.  That process ruled out any question of foul play or self injury, so if we didn’t find out the precise cause of death, at least it was made clear what it wasn’t.  Open verdict.

We were met when we arrived by two volunteers, Janice and Declan, and one or both of them stayed with us for the best part of an hour, briefing us on procedure, and then just making pleasant conversation, until the case was called on.  The premises were remarkably smart for crown estate, and the coroner was businesslike and polite, if somewhat scripted and impersonal.

The proceedings were held in a newly refitted building in the County Town, where I had been many times before.  There had in the past been a restaurant, bar and hotel rooms, but that must all have come to an end during the pandemic.  I recognised some ornamental iron work on a staircase, but precious little else.  I’d done lots of interviews there of people offering to serve as Magistrates, and attended quite a lot of bench meetings, before govt stopped paying for decent accommodation for such work.

Bitterly cold day, so the overcoats got an outing, but it was brilliantly sunny all day.  The low sun made for difficult driving, but we got home safely enough.  A 57 mile round trip, including feedback to the family, so I guess I’m recovering.

Meanwhile, back at Forges-l’Evêque we have been doing household stuff to keep our minds off it.  The twin beds in the guest room are twinned again and various sets of unused bedding, curtains, surplus bedside lamps and the rest are now cluttering up the Hospice shop rather than our wardrobes and airing cupboard.  Sandra, meanwhile, is disposing of the late Michael’s clothing, much either unused or hardly used.  So we each have a couple of lambswool pullovers - and I shall next get on line and order more moth discouragement.

And in the wider world, HMG’s plans to send asylum seekers to Rwanda looks somewhat imperilled: two Tory vice-chairs have resigned because their agenda is not being adopted.  It also emerges that the UK has allowed asylum applications from people fleeing persecution in the supposedly safe country to which HMG wants to send applicants for ‘processing’.  Wot wiv Trump looking like heading for power again, and Putin also heading for re-election by a marginally less transparent process, I again feel grateful to be old and childless.