Loved and loving son to Pamela and Geoffrey and brother to Joanna, Sally and Jonathan.
Philip was the cheeky and sensitive younger brother who died suddenly out of the blue whilst studying at Birmingham University. His death will always be our loss.
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Here are some favourites of Phil and his family in the 1970's - The Early Years!
Brother Jonathan and sisters Sally and Joanna and of course Mum and Dad plus various friends and relatives
At home, in his room, lies a bottle of champagne,
And my mind fizzes with memories, pain?
(His wicked sense of humour was to all a source of such delight,
I picture him, his cheeky grin, please Lord never let him leave my sight.
A man with style, a mind so bright,
His critical eye could catch an unsuspecting fly,
Concern for all, would only bark
if riled by an ignorant remark.
A man with style, a mind so bright,
His sensitive eye could sense a secret smirk, or sigh.
Pure energy, yet so polite -
You know he'd always wanna "Put Things Right".
and So, his death, a loss 'tis true,
The bolt has hit hard all he knew.
But pity those he had yet to meet,
They've really missed a lovely treat.
Sense the silent void of their lost gain,
Why, they truly feel that ALL'S THE SAME.
One Final, Farewell, Bodily Kiss,
A spiritual tingling, lingering bliss.
and in day and in night he was one that we did love,
to me, the one that I call bruv).
Phil was at Habs in Elstree before he went to Birmingham University to study law.
I'm always happy to receive stories or memories of his time there.
My early memories of Phil are playing games such as 'Egg' in the garden where one person throws the ball up in the air and calls the name of one of the others who gets the ball whilst everyone else runs away coming to a freeze once the ball is retrieved. That person then has to try to hit someone with a throw of the ball - if they were too close it could cause tears!
We also shared a bedroom till our early teens and our beds were on opposite sides of the room with a good foot of space underneath the mattresses that acted as great goals. Using a tennis ball we would score goals using our hands to throw the ball, often using the sides of the room and wardrobes to rebound the ball past each other.
Phil and Sally often used to hide food from each other. One of the more ingenious hiding places was in the storage box underneath the kitchen table bench.
At one stage in the late 1980's Sally, Philip and myself were all still living at home but going out late at weekends. To solve the problem of who was in last and so had to lock the door (we were'nt entrusted with keys in those days) there was a list put up in the lobby where you had to sign in with an arrival time, and the last one in had to lock up.
One night I came home late and found the door locked. Not wanting to wake people up I tried the car door, it was open, so i fell asleep across the seats in the back. Only with the morning dawn chorus did i find Philip also asleep across the back seats of the car. Sally had got home first and then locked the door!
Looking back at some of the pictures of him was a reminder how much he liked animals - many pictures have him stroking or cuddling pets. He was also quite against cruelty to animals and I remember the 'What Give us the Right' picture on his bedroom wall when he was still very young.
Phil was born on May 29, 1973 in North West London.
Phil was at Habs in Elstree before he went to Birmingham University to study law.
I'm always happy to receive stories or memories of his time there.
Phil's year off during which he worked at Picton's Law School before travelling around America with his friend Robin.
Phil goes up to Birmingham in residence at Mason Hall in his first year.
Philip dies at some point during the night between Friday 17th and Saturday 18th March at his digs at Bournebrook Road whilst studying at Birmingham University
Surprising to realise there are no digital pictures of him. He died still in the Kodak age even though he was more technologically aware than the rest of us in the family.
Have bought a new scanner so i can upload photos of him - amazingly easy and you can restore colour and faded photos. All stuff he'd have been better than me at doing.
We still have 'slips of the mind' when we forget that Phil is dead, whether for a split second or longer I can never really measure. Dad mentioned my initial reaction when the phone at home is engaged, - 'Bloody Phil'. When I visited mum and dad yesterday and needed some toothpaste I started to walk towards Phil's room in search of some, just for a split second, or maybe longer
You can see the change in dad over the last two years. I remember how early on he just wanted to die himself, 'It would be an honour' he once said. It sounds more perturbing now than it did then. I think he's undergone a rather dramatic shift and is now petrified of dying. He may feel he has so much to do in the wake of Phil's death, he may not want to put us all through another death or he may just want to be alive, I don't suppose there's any real need for justification.
Phil always liked to be ahead of the field and he liked high tech gadgetry. I often look round at the changes he has missed out on, the mass marketing of mobiles, the change from 081 to 0181, batteries that show their chargeabilty level. Behind a woman in the newsagents queue today I heard her ask for "Two lucky dips, a Mystic Meg and a Grow on Trees".
Dad has agreed, I would say admitted to me, that he has obtained his sense of religious conviction through a process of 'conscious brainwashing'. The sort of thing you do to make healthy food taste nice. He would attend church regularly, sing the hymns loudly and generally follow the flow until routine became belief, a type of mental transubstantiation, so that eventually any conflicting argument could be put down instinctively with that all-encompassing and so very useful one-liner, "Yes indeed, God does work in strange ways".
I felt slightly exasperated when I read that dad wishes to 'atone for Phil's rejection of Christ'. Phil was only 21 when he died and Christ would have been a topic he'd have fitted into the 'deal with it later' box of life. I'm not sure whether Phil remembered sitting in our lounge listening to the letter that grandad wrote to be read out on his death, I was fifteen and so he was twelve. The letter opened with something similar to 'You all know that I have never believed in God' - Well I didn't, - this had been hitherto kept secret to me but it sounded great, you didn't have to believe in God, grandad said so. Philip, on discovering rather young that dad was in fact Father Christmas asked him 'so you must be God too?' Who said Phil did not think about the after-life?
I am tempted to say that the pain dad has suffered over Phil's death exposes his physical rather than intellectual engagement of Christianity, but then true religious belief has never seemed to protect from the pain of bereavement. Is it just that all people at heart are unsure of the wonders and charity of God, or is pain always meant to be? I think it is the former. True belief would surely remove the fuel for pain but belief, like grief, appears not to be a constant, rather it touches then leaves you, moving in waves that both pick you up and hurl you down. I know that occasionally, in the deepest moments of despair following Phil's death, there was within me the knowledge that I was now touching the core of life, that I was truly living and understood all around me. It was an all-fulfilling surge of knowledge that would drift away as easily as it came. These may have been momentary shots of belief but a refusal to deny them may lead me, in time, to an on-going conviction of some kind.
Either as an alternative or else to complement the support and understanding he received through the church, dad started to look elsewhere. Despite mum's misgivings, there was a brief flirtation with 'The Ghost Club' and then more seriously there was the world of Sai Baba, to whom dad was introduced by no other than his GP. Sai Baba is an organisation that undertakes spiritual and educational activities under the guidance of Sathya Sai Baba, a 'man of miracles' born in 1926 in Southern India. It teaches an appealing mixture of commands within its code of conduct centering on love, truth and peace. In particular, there is a concept of Universality, that religions are facets of the one truth - 'Moslemites, Christianites, Hinduites, Jewites, are all the same to me! There is only one religion, the religion of love.' Whilst Sai Baba has received world-wide attention, some commentators have questioned his refusal to carry out under independent scrutiny the miracles which emanate from him as a blessing to his devotees. Dad has dipped his toes into the organisation (as has reportedly the Duchess of York), obtaining leaflets, buying videos and attending the odd meeting. I can't imagine that the videos are much fun, on a mailing list I noticed one advertised as containing 'many delightfully informal sequences of Baba when young (riding a donkey, wearing a hat and sunglasses, walking among his devotees)'. I suspect that Sai Baba's reported ability to perform acts which break down basic conventions and laws of physics touches a chord with dad, as something he could cling to, but mum says "I hope it's just a phase he's going through".
I suppose I myself have become more spiritual since Phil's death, or at least spend time thinking about it (not left it in the 'till later' box). It may be crude and you may say I'm ignorant or maybe 'how dare you put down your own pathetic theory before you've even given God a chance' but I hypothesise that there is no such thing as death (I can accept immediate re-incarnation as an alternative), rather it is actually just a smokescreen to prevent complacency and insanity arising from the knowledge of natural eternal life. There you go. I tried to convince a Jehovah's witness the other day but she was having none of it, concentrating on her own sales pitch which seemed to centre on the fact that before 1914 there were no wars or child molesters. To my surprise she felt she won the ensuing argument and so I don't imagine that my theory can therefore quite compete with the might of Christianity, at least in the West. I can never quite get to grips with this geographical aspect of religious belief, what's the point learning to put my faith in and believe the teachings of Christianity when, let's face it, if I was born in Pakistan I'd be told something else. Maybe I'm perfect fodder for Mr Sai Baba and his universal god of love?
Sally's visit to the medium certainly triggered more feelings of....strangeness. In dad it was I guess a confirmation of his religious conviction and in me a certain 'yep, there's something a bit weird going on up there'. At some point, the growing dossier of evidence may tip the scales firmly in favour of spiritual presence rather than coincidence. When granddad died, Joanna was up at Bristol University and had stayed the night at her boyfriend (now husband) Andrew's house. They were rushing to their 9 o'clock lecture when Jo sensed there was an urgent message for her back at her house. Andrew said she was crazy but after a 'to do' they skipped the lecture and drove back where waiting on the answerphone was a message to call home because granddad had died. It seems that Joanna may be able to relate to mum and/or dad in some slight extra-sensory manner. On the Saturday night when only mum and dad knew about Phil's death, Joanna was hardly able to sleep at all, telling Andrew that she thought mum was in pain.
But back to the medium. Sally had gone to a Spiritualist Society of Great Britain Open Day in London where she was directed to a middle-aged lady in a booth who got straight to the point, 'There is a young male who has gone over just recently'. Despite her amazement, Sally says she tried to agree in as matter-of-fact a manner as possible. The lady then asked 'him' what happened, - 'He tells me he couldn't breath, he's reluctant to say more, I think he's a bit coy about it'. Now, that is perfect Phil, exactly the reaction he'd have given, coy, maybe cringing with embarrassment because mum and dad were proved right! And the lady in the booth knew nothing of Sally until she agreed that "Yes, I've got a brother Phil who did die last year". And, it's all on tape, Sally taped it. Now, that's evidence!
In one of my early dreams, I was sitting at a table with Phil, asking questions. We both knew Phil was dead and it was like a Question and Answer session. From the moment I woke up the next day I was unable to remember the detail of what was said which is probably a great pity [My book on the mysteries of life is still on hold] but I do know that the answers he gave were unexpected. Dreams may shock or scare you, you may feel out of control, but they are your dreams and somehow you always know what's coming. This was different, less a dream more a conversation. The median said that 'Phil has grown on the other side, he is there looking after us and you can contact him if you need him'. This is a topsy table concept for us Davies's given that he's our YOUNGER brother, we're the ones that help him. At times though it's difficult to deny his presence, another pinch of irony that whilst we can never be with him, he is now no longer ever away.
4th January
The Christmas period was fine but there was then a rapid downhill spiral culminating in New Year's Day when the family got together for a meal. The 'banter' at the table suggested a return to a more normal existence and the 'completeness' of the family was particularly painful.
Pam is regularly breaking down again. She felt that the Queen's speech telling the Dunblane parents to 'look to the future' was crass - the children died last March, only nine months ago, they were their future.
7th January
Taking down the Christmas decorations was a relief, they gave us no pleasure whilst they were up. We've noticed that friends and relatives now send us a higher preponderance of religious cards.
11th January
Today is my mother's birthday. She would be ninety-six. As I was looking through papers preparing for the Inquest Pam found the batch of notes that Philip wrote to himself shortly before his death. Distressing.
19th January
Pam told me how difficult it had been in Sketchley's telling them just how much to shorten Philip's suit so it would fit Jonathan. My father told me how he saw his father's clothes hanging in a cupboard when he came back from the funeral. For me it was seeing my father's false teeth, wrapped in a slimy damp flannel. I saw them in the second drawer on the right of a desk or cabinet. And his car, his blue Peugeot had been returned and left on the drive in front of the garage a few days after he died by the people he had been calling on when he collapsed. They didn't call, they just left it there looking forlorn. Perhaps we were out.
22nd January
The Inquest is now over, not far off 2 years after Philip died. We all feel quite deflated.
30th January
I awoke dreaming that Philip was a child of four or five telling me that he was the naughtiest in the class by a long chalk. I asked him to change as it would mean he wasn't going to grow up, saying 'you know what you are going to do'. It's the effect of having our three year old granddaughter here for the night, I suppose.
6th February
Natasha has shown us a poem that her brother Nicholas has written for school, supposedly in 'iambic pentameter' he was awarded A- for it. He was only 12 when Philip died (now 14). Enveloped in your own grief you can forget how others have been affected and to me, Nick's poem shows someone fighting hard to justify going on 'as normal' in the wake of Phil's death:
The grief was apparent throughout the Church
How could such a cruel tragedy take place?
The tears were clear to see as people wept,
Such a waste of a terribly young life.
Memories were shared but sadness prevailed,
The service seemed so long, a time for thought.
Friends were consoled but to little effect,
It felt like someone irreplaceable had left.
There was no turning back, he had gone,
It was time to face facts, time to get on.
The black coffin looked so cold and morbid,
My stomach turned over a million times.
It all seemed so hard to come to terms with,
How could one so special die so early.
It felt like a bad dream, but it was real.
The trauma was beginning to sink in,
The early shock had taken some shifting.
Life had to go on, but it would be hard,
Family and friends were distraught, faith lost.
The days were so sad, the nights even worse,
The slightest memory and tears were shed.
Time seemed immaterial, days went by.
9th February
D.C. Boyle rang. Did we want the cash box and one or two other things found by the police in Phil's room? He had already asked for them to be disposed of and then felt guilty. Pam & I want to keep everything to do with Philip. Boyle doesn't understand that they won't cause unpleasant memories. The memories are painful, but that is different. I also asked for the police photos, - we will use them one day I think.
Pam likes the little bits of publicity Philip's death receives as it makes it more significant. There was a piece in 'The Guardian' yesterday which we didn't know about until a friend left a message on our answering machine.
I met D.C. Boyle's wife when we came up for the Inquest, upon being introduced she said "I recognise you from the television" - Now, that would have made Philip laugh.
11th February
Such irony that Phil hated missing out on things and hated people being sad. I still find it all unbelievable.
After my father died I felt quite numb but eventually found an animal vigour again. I realised it was happening when I began to be interested in the Christine Keeler affair. This hasn't happened after Philip's death, there is pain and not as much numbness.
12th February
A good friend of ours, Robert Bertolotti died last week. He too is now buried in Pinner New Cemetery, barely 100yds from Philip. Over time, Phil will become surrounded by friends.
16th February
We had a boiled egg each this evening. Pam found the egg cup she had bought to encourage Philip to learn to play the trumpet, a man lying down with the cup the bowl of the instrument.
22nd February
My son-in-law Andrew has just had his 33rd birthday and so is now half my age for the first time, I'm not sure he was best pleased when I told him. It's a mathematical certainty that he will age quicker than me, in another 30 years he'll be two thirds my age and he'll catch me up in eternity.
27th February
Pam received a letter shortly after Phil died from a woman who had suffered similarly some ten years previously. She told how, with time, grief may become less sharp but that the 'sadness is always there, like a quiet companion'. With time, I hope that this may be the case for Pam and me.
11th October
The trial is over and Johnson has been sent to prison.
Joanna said that if Johnson had come and seen us and said he was sorry, and told us about he and Philip, he would never have been tried. And that, I suppose, is true. Nor would he have been sentenced if he had said nothing.
Natasha and her sister were in a Birmingham pub, Saturday night. Mo came in distributing flyers.
14th October
James' mother rang and spoke to Pam. She was ashamed of James. He had come back from the trial arrogant and distant. I think he had taken drugs in Birmingham with his old friends.
25th October
How can you compare the frivolity of life with death? You read about people who have just lost a child, they normally seem so composed and say the most ridiculous matter of fact things, - 'We didn't get any sleep last night'; 'This has come as a shock to the family'. I pity them and the terrible pain that is yet to come, their reality.
10th November
In one of Phil's notepads, Jonathan found a scrap of paper with a note dated 17 October 1992, 12.30pm.
Phil did get obsessed by things, he was keen to push the boundaries, but why did he write down these thoughts, a need or desire?
"A moment
If I close my eyes I can see things going fuzzy and feel my electronics short-circuiting and blowing up.
An obsession involves a mutiny from within oneself and one is unable either to arrest it or to ignore it. It feeds you as it feeds on you. It is powerful enough to transmit itself into waves of pleasure - muscle stimulating rushes across the whole body as well as in the mind.
I followed her back to halls, unnecessarily"
11th December
Quite a lot of sobbing and tears this weekend: mainly me.
Undated - December
During the night I felt very strongly that nothing matters so long as you are surrounded by love and I felt very peaceful.
I remember:
Philip in the tower at Laval. - how tightly I held his wrist.
Philip in the canoe on the Thames - how anxious I was.
Philip at one end of the Ski Heil line giving a gentle push and over they went.
Philip standing up to jump off the top of the assault course wall while the others lowered themselves or pushed off. I'm glad I told him about that.
1st July
Philip is the third generation male Davies to die early. My parents first child, a boy, died a few hours after birth. My father also had a brother, Frank, who died in his mid twenties. I never really asked about them. I was never really interested. Very young, in a garden I remember throwing a stone in the air saying, "this will go to my brother in heaven". My mother told my wife that she blamed herself for her baby's death because she didn't realise she was in labour and walked to the station to meet my father. She didn't know that labour pains could be in the back. But I did not know this until after my mother had died. And now no one knows anything about Frank. My parents told me he died because he didn't eat his greens. Later they said he had gone mad from a non- inheritable type of madness. I once saw some paperwork he had done. Careful clear writing and drawing left in the pages of a Walter Scott novel, illustrating the battle described.
2nd July
Natasha has telephoned from Caracas. They arrived and the taxi driver said they were going to a dangerous place. Natasha knows a few words of Spanish and understood. Now they are staying in a safer but dirty hotel. I hope she will be all right. It seems a foolish undertaking.
Pam has bought a frame for the photograph of Philip and Natasha. The one that flatters him. I will hang it in Phil's room, that which is to become my office but which I must be careful to refer to as "Phil's room."
At the Parochial Church Council meeting, Pam was told she would be glad when the trial was over, "You have another son". Pam tried to explain that affairs concerning Philip afforded the illusion that we could still do something for him and our pain was preferable to the realisation that there was nothing we could now do, except pray and tend his grave. And Philip was unique, not another son. When he died, so too did a part of Pam and my parents.
On the way to work yesterday, when Jonathan got out to go to the trains at North Harrow Station, there was a pigeon fluttering on the ground in a corner underneath the bridge. We didn't know what to do so we left it. I know that there was little we could do but I did not want to do anything. This morning as I drove past without stopping, it was just a bedraggled heap of feathers. I had left a sentient, warm moving creature and it had died. Bryn and John left Philip in much the same way.
7th July
When we go to the cemetery, I sense that Pamela resents me spending time at my parents grave. Perhaps she is not aware of it, herself. I try not to tend their grave when Pam is with me.
11th July
Printing the Philip Davies Trust circular letter to the universities, wondering about the cost, the words "well it will be costing me less than Philip" came into my mind: a shaming thought.
12th July
Drove to Cockshotts this morning thinking, it's 65 weeks since I drove there in the sun, radio playing, listening and wondering about the Corsican who shot his only son for betraying an outlaw to the authorities; blissful, in the last few hours of Philip's life.
Philip would be back from the College of Law about now. Two years articles would be the next step.
Pam often cries. She came into the sun room this evening, "I miss him so much. It seems absurd to be sitting here surrounded by all these lovely flowers." She had burst into tears when the Simplex man came about selling us furniture to transform Philip's room into an office. He had driven from Bristol with a companion and some of the furniture, to demonstrate it's solid wood qualities. Pam doesn't want to change the wallpaper.
Pam wondered "should we invite Philip's friends round". She doesn't really want to see them but she doesn't want to loose touch. The Haberdasher friends that is. The people from Birmingham she does not want to see. Except perhaps, James.
13th July
Driving to Pinner Hill golf course to walk the dog this morning, I saw, on the left, out of focus as I turned the corner, Philip. It was a young Indian boy. What both Pam and I saw were his body movements. Earlier, leaving our house, a paper boy had ridden across our path. He had Philip's profile. We see Philip in a wide range of ages now, all painful. We are sensitised to other peoples pain in a way I was not before. Miss Howard when I drove her to work sometimes used to comment on disasters in the newspapers that left me unmoved. Now they do not. I suppose to some extent, others' distress comforts one.
One of the Waltzers' children had a party this evening. From the bathroom window I could see them in the garden. Shouting, laughing, smoking and drinking they were having the sort of fun that I wish Philip could be having. If he were experiencing it now I would be annoyed. Its the sort of fun that led to his death. The reason that young people go to university for.
14th July
In the afternoon we went to Mill Hill School where Andrew was playing in the annual Firm cricket match. He plays for the partners team; last time it was the staff. I can't work out if Philip was alive last time we saw him play, whether it is one year or two.
15th July
As I drove in to the runway after work, Pam was sitting under the raised rear door of the Ford. She smiled. When I got out I realised she was crying. She had been to the Hillview Road house as the tenants were leaving and she needed to check the inventory. She hadn't really been inside since Philip died and she was apprehensive. Everything had been fine until she went into what had been our bedroom. Quite changed but still the room in which Philip had been conceived. She was overcome by grief and tears.
19th July
The Winter's came and walked round the garden and sat eating cake and drinking coffee in the garden. I realise we didn't mention either Sophie or Philip. Just an unspoken reference when Mr Winter and I talked about sleeping problems and knew we were each thinking of our dead children. This morning, just before waking, I was dreaming of the brochure for "Jonathans", the restaurant in Birmingham we thought we might go to after Philip's graduation. The dream was pain free, but the thought woke me and immediately, the painfilled despondency was back. Mr Winter says the mornings are worst. During the day one develops a carapace.
20th July
Natasha's mother phoned this morning, just after our return from the dog walk.
Natasha would be back Monday, not Sunday from Venezuela. Natasha had dreamt a good dream about Philip for the first time. He had told her he loved her. Previously, in dreams, he had been reproachful.
21st July
Pam reading in the Sunday papers that the police wanted £7.30 to send back a murdered woman's clothes to her husband "or we will destroy them" commented how the policeman who came to tell us Philip was dead, didn't react at all when she reached out to him. She knows that one would not expect him to feel emotion in those circumstances and that perhaps policemen should train themselves not to.
24th July
Natasha is back from Venezuela and came to see us in the evening. She arranged for Nick to come as well. We haven't seen him for some months. They went with Jonathan, out to one of the Cafe Rouge restaurants. Nick says Pam and I seem more relaxed. Pam thinks Nick has been affected by Philip's death. Pam would have liked to have talked to him more about Philip. We will ask him around and warn him beforehand that we want to ask him about Philip and drugs.
August - various days
Thirteen weeks later after Philip died Johnson reported to Belgrave Road Police station where he was charged with sixteen offences, and bailed to appear at Birmingham Magistrates Court on Wednesday, 2nd August. This was the first of a series of preliminary appearances, the list being;
Wednesday, 2nd August 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 14th September 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 12th October 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 9th November 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 7th December 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 21st December 1995 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 2nd February 1996 Birmingham Magistrates Court
Thursday, 14th March 1996 Birmingham Crown Court.
Friday, 26th April 1996 Birmingham Crown Court
The trial itself was finally scheduled for Monday, 7th October 1996, being delayed at the request of the defence to allow the accused time to finish a dissertation, Johnson having started at some time a business course.
The appearances at the courts were all very similar. Johnson was bailed on each occasion to appear, usually, at 9.45 a.m. The courts start proceedings at 10 o'clock and are usually on time. A jolly crowd of solicitors, barristers and court officials gather in the court a few minutes before ten and the cases are arranged to be heard before the Magistrates in an order that will save the solicitors time. The clerk and ushers seem to informally arrange that solicitor 'a' will have all his cases together first, one day and the next time solicitor 'b' will have his cases together at the start.
Johnson wore a dark blue suit on each occasion. He was always accompanied, sometimes by a female friend and sometimes by three rough looking companions, who occasionally carried a copy of the Guardian, presumably as evidence of intellectual and libertarian standards. The woman never came in to the court but would wait outside. His three male companions would sit inside, sometimes very close. We looked at each other covertly, avoiding direct eye contact. When I first realised that Philip had died from drugs supplied by Johnson, I wondered if it was my duty to kill him. I looked at the knives in the kitchen drawer and considered how easily I could walk up behind him and kill him. Pamela said, "how will it help the rest of us if you are in prison". Seeing Johnson in court, in one case sitting next to him in a small room, I was surprised how little animosity I felt. He looked like Philip. He had the same body movements, the same slightly arrogant walk. Pamela was similarly affected. I think she once said "I felt an impulse to put my arms round him". That emotion can exist alongside a desire to hate and to see him imprisoned for many years. An acquittal or a light sentence will depress us.
It is difficult to comprehend the motives of Johnson's entourage. Perhaps the woman, who is a few years older, feels maternal or sexual affection for him. She may simply think it her duty to support him. His male companions who often look bored and impatient in court may have nothing better to do. Johnson looks a natural leader in his relationship with them. Alternatively they may be anxious that Johnson may implicate them as other suppliers and dealers in a close knit circle and think it advisable to keep in close contact with him.
It was difficult to understand why seven hearings in Birmingham Magistrates Court
were necessary before committal to the Crown Court. It was in any case difficult to hear the proceedings, although for the later cases we arranged with the usher to sit well forward in seats intended for court officials. I introduced myself to the Crown Prosecution Service representatives on each occasion and received courteous explanations but it was difficult to avoid the impression that an arcane game was being played which would require initiation to comprehend. Adjournments were requested because documents had been lost or misplaced or had not arrived, or witness statements were not presented on the proper form. Both the prosecution and the defence asked for extra time to prepare. A CPS lawyer explained that she seldom resisted an application to adjourn because "next time it may be me who wants an adjournment". The defence solicitor claimed until the last moment that he would probably demand an "old style committal." A full scale mini trial, with witnesses, in the Magistrates Court to enable the Magistrates to decide if there was a case to be answered in the Crown Court.
We were advised by our solicitor that it was advisable to attend each hearing. He wrote:
"Although I appreciate that it takes a great deal of time to attend each Hearing, I do think it is most important that you do so. Many cases are either thrown out or severely weakened at interim Hearings such as these."
and said on the telephone,
"The CPS are much less likely to sell you down the river if you are there. You must let them know you are there".
5th August
Natasha to supper: Jonathan prepared a fondue. The last fondue was a week or so before Philip died. It was in Switzerland and we squabbled over it.
There was a cameo of Philip in Ibiza. He enjoyed crazy golf. They played every evening. I would not have expected that. Natasha's mother said that the holiday in Ibiza was the highlight of their lives. They were so happy. It was just after the abortion. I can hardly remember them going. Now I write and try to remember. My father used to say when he was getting old (but younger than me), "all my future is in the past." It regularly infuriated me.
Natasha spoke of Philip's last night. How she was talking to Johnson when Philip went past. Johnson was saying that Philip didn't really want to part from her. Perhaps Philip saw them, perhaps he didn't. Natasha talked of her meeting with Johnson after Philip died, Tuesday 21st March, I think. A meeting arranged by Mo at her house in Pershore Road. Mo went upstairs to prepare the room in which Natasha spoke to Johnson and ushered Natasha in, Natasha was nervous. Johnson arrived escorted by Sam, a diminutive girl. Natasha wanted to see him because she wanted to find out what had happened on Friday night. Johnson wanted to see her because he was distraught, apologised and simply presumed that Natasha would support him. Gillian had been telling everyone that Natasha had made a statement to the police. Natasha was being looked at askance by her circle. They all asked her to withdraw her statement. Johnson told her what he had told the police, gave Natasha a version of what he claimed had happened (which Natasha believes is only partly accurate) and asked her to alter the story she had told the police. Maybe he assumed that Natasha would follow the rest of Philip's friends and acquaintances in maintaining a wall of silence. He upset Natasha by telling her that when she was quarrelling with Philip in the men's lavatory, he had been in the next cubicle, listening.
Pamela remarked next morning how Natasha gradually tells more. Natasha mentioned that her friend Caroline remembers a telephone conversation a week before Philip died. Natasha seemed very distressed and was talking of hiding drugs so that Philip could not find them. Pam feels that with only a little luck matters might have been disclosed. Writing and talking about it makes Philip seem impersonal. Then one realises with dread shock, "this is Philip, our son and he is dead."
6th August
Pam arrived at work today after our weekly Wednesday mangers meeting. She seemed upset and burst into tears. In Waitrose earlier, someone behind her said "Hallo Pam, I haven't seen you for ages", People don't speak to her from behind now. They look at her first from the front before speaking. It was the mother of Philip's first friend. They had played together in the play group. The one in the park, I expect. Her son is also called Philip. He is a medical student now. Pam said, "I remember thinking 'Philip's cleverer', and now Philip's dead from heroin"
There is another card on the grave from Sonya. It had blown on to the new grave behind. One resents another grave so close, Pam said, and then is pleased. Watering the grave this evening I had much the same reaction.
9th August
I had a telephone conversation with D.C.Boyle. He said that he had spoken to the CPS yesterday and that everything seemed o.k. for the 7th.October. He believes
there is a new group of drug users at the University.
11th August
We went for a walk along the Thames. Sally, James, Pam, me and Jonathan. It's my birthday on Wednesday. Two years ago Philip came and, I think, Natasha. Sally gave me a present: 'The After Life; A Complete Guide to Life After Death.'
Claire Short is described in the papers as "a loose cannon." Someone called Philip that.
14th August
I am sixty five today. It is very depressing being sixty five and Philip dead. I used to enjoy the idea of being sixty with a teenage son.
15th August
Nick phoned work. He was with Natasha and suggested he called at home, collected the dog and took him for a walk. Pam was in the office with me and was pleased. She wanted to ask Nick about Philip. He was at home when I returned. He had told Pam that he and Philip had smoked cannabis a lot at school, Philip always taking it a bit further than others. Philip had smoked in class under the desk for example. He had nearly been caught on a school sailing trip in Holland, exhaling into a masters face when the master leant on the boat and Nick and Phil were under an awning. The master didn't notice. There was a rather more shaming story about faking tickets for a ball and pocketing the money but I do not understand the details. Nick kept using the word "naughtiness" but I'm not sure of the associations of the word for Nick. To me it suggests no more than disapproved of frivolity. Nick showed us the entry for Philip at the back of the 1991 Habs year book. I had not seen them before. They were all one line entries giving a forecast for 2001. Philip's was "in prison for naughtiness"
Nick is uncertain whether Johnson should go to prison. He suggested he had to come and talk to us every week for an hour. He does not feel he should be acquitted and escape though. As Nick left he said awkwardly "I'm not religious at all or anything like that but I do think there's something else and we'll see him again. After my grandmother died my parents saw a medium who told them obscure facts only they knew." He offered us the name of the medium. I think he couldn't leave without saying that bit.
The plant Joanna gave me, a bonzai type tree really, died a year or two ago. I have a couple of cuttings of scented geranium alongside it, in the pot. This morning I found the dead tree was rotting. I've pulled it out and put it in the bin. I don't like rotting things. I dislike maintaining the compost heap now. In the 50's when Mr Wagstaff next door died, I wondered how his widow stood the idea of his body rotting. He was a big man. An archetypal stockbroker of the past. My father imitated his way of puffing air out, going 'herwooof, herwooof.'
18th August
Pam, baking a cake to take to Andrew and Joanna this afternoon, suddenly thought of the cake she didn't bake for Philip the last time we saw him. Busy, she didn't do the baking but bought some food. Philip didn't much like cakes.
In the cemetery we often see man who sits on a bench for many hours. He strokes the headstone and leaves slowly, looking back.
Why did Philip wear ear rings? We talked about it. There is no objective objection but it does display sympathy for a particular culture. He didn't disagree with that but wore rings in Birmingham and occasionally at home. Did Natasha like them, or did he actually want to show support for the sub-group?
19th August
I took a cheque for the Vicar to sign on my way to work today. He commented "you're always cheerful" Is that how I appear?
I was talking to a friend about funerals when he said, "Let's talk about something nice". I like talking about funerals.
28th August
Back from a long weekend in France with the Champions both Pam and I feel better for it. I did not want to go but in fact am now glad I did.
31st August
Alison Haigh brought the Haberdashers Old Girls books over to work for me to audit. Pam was here. She explained how the life subscriptions had been treated to spread them over an expected life of fifty years. This morning a circular letter had arrived for Philip from the Habs Old Boys. Both Pam and I are reluctant to remind them he is dead. Pam has thought of an excuse for leaving Philip on the electoral roll. I can return the list with his name on it because we have no death certificate yet.
1st September
Yesterday, Sally saw a medium at the Spiritualist Association in Belgrave Square.
The meeting was taped. I listened to it first, after coming home from a meal with Sally and James, Saturday night. Today, I started a second listening, this time with Pam. She quickly became very upset, saying she didn't want anyone else talking about Philip.
3rd September
Today has been difficult for both Pam and me. I know why in my case. Last night we went in a coach to Cheshunt for Brian Blackshaw's induction as vicar. At the reception after the service, Brian Blackshaw asked "do you find things a little easier now?" I replied "yes, but we don't like to admit it" and I am sorry I said that.
4th September
Talking to Pam about what to say when people ask "How are you?", she said it's a difficult problem. Reply, "Fine" and you feel disloyal. Launch into a description of one's misery and their eyes glaze or you prevent them telling you about their problems, what a ludicrous situation.
Sally finds the conversation with the medium a comfort. I do not know what I think.
The medium said that Philip was growing and wanted to help us (Yes, Philip helping us now!). I find myself listening to French tapes now on the way to work and seeking Philip's approval and help.
I wish I hadn't called him Baldrick after the sailing holiday when he wouldn't wash and got a skin infection. It seemed a good idea at the time.
6th September
The Bearmans have given or lent us a pair of hand grips for Pam to exercise the damaged muscles in her wrist and hand. I did not like to tell them that we had Philip's, together with the weights he used to develop his biceps. Weight lifting and drugs are related although in Philip's case I don't think there was a link.
8th September
Today, I took off the shelf in the office, the drawing pins, blue tac, sellotape and scissors, that we bought to put up the posters of Philip at the University. They will be subsumed among our office stationery.
We listened to the tape of Sally and the medium. Like me, Jonathan was impressed. There is just enough information to make it difficult to dismiss. Pam is hostile to the concept. She will not want us to pursue it.
15 September
David Hough telephoned yesterday and arranged to call today. I have not seen him for forty years. When they were with us sitting in the conservatory his wife wanted to talk about their son who died 2nd July 1995. They found him dead after having to break the door down. They are not certain whether he died Saturday or Sunday. The television was on and he lay on his bed half dressed. Two of my old friends have suffered disasters with their sons.
Last Christmas Pam did not suffer so much going to the cemetery. The pain came from the realisation that she could give Philip only flowers.
In the 'Daily Telegraph' on 16 August it was reported that nearly half of all 15 and 16year olds admit to having tried illegal drugs.
September - various
We wished we had known that Philip was taking drugs. We assumed that other parents would like to know this facet of their sons and daughters life styles. In this we were mistaken. There was contact with the parents of eight friends; four flatmates, Natasha's and three others.
Natasha's were supportive. For other parents, with one exception it was different.
We called on Mark's parents on two occasions. His mother who played a subordinate role, was sympathetic but unhelpful. His father was unsympathetic and unhelpful. He took notes. He asked "Alex Johnson was a friend of Philip's. Do you want him to go to prison?" He warned about "being neurotic and letting this thing take over your life." He was very hostile to the police telephoning to complain that they had upset his son. His attitudes were an antithesis to those expressed in my wife's letter to Mark.
"Dear Mark,
I thought I would like to write to you to put into words our feelings as a family regarding Philip's death and the forthcoming court case.
We understand that you have been helpful with regard to the police's enquiries and we are grateful for that, If there is any further information you are able to give, it would of course be beneficial and may help to prevent the case being long drawn out.
Your parents told us that you feel that, to some extent, you think things should be "hushed up" as that would be what Philip would have wanted. We, his family, and all his home friends are certain that this is not what he would want. He would be exceedingly angry that he has lost his life to drugs- as would any of you. He would want the truth out in the open, however painful it is.
Drugs are a terrible way of life, damaging many young lives and occasionally, as in the case of Philip, causing their death. Many people (including yourself) are suffering in some measure in the pain caused by Philip's needless death and I do not believe that any of us would want other people to suffer similarly, as a result of our failure to do what is right.
"Hushing things up" gives a green light to drug pushers and users to carry on. We are sure that Philip, in the light of what has happened to him, would want us all to do what we can to discourage drug use.
So, for other young students who, like Philip, might get sucked into the hard drugs scene, we ask you to be completely frank and honest in helping the police.
We have naturally been thinking of graduation this week and although I gather you were disappointed with your degree, you have in the circumstances done extremely well and we offer our congratulations."
We have had no contact with them since shortly after Philip's death. We hear that Mark sometimes works as a DJ and visits Birmingham at the week ends. I telephoned once telling his mother that I hadn't had a reply from Mark to a letter I had sent. She replied "I don't think you will."
James' parents were quite different. Initially wary when I telephoned, they both, mother and father, asked many questions. My wife and I, with our son Jonathan, drove to talk to them. James and his girl friend came in part way through and took part in the discussion. His mother wrote us a letter after.
"Dear Pamela,
After you left on Saturday I felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Philip's death to us was a tragedy and it has been the subject of many hours of discussion with the whole family. Regretfully, to a lesser degree than yourselves, we always felt there were things that didn't quite make sense but time and time again we were told by James that he had never been involved in anything other than occasionally taking cannabis and would never get involved in any "hard drugs". I had no alternative other than to believe James, although I would add there had always been a niggling doubt and I must say at times I felt him to be deeply troubled.
As I briefly said to you on Saturday I have spoken on many occasions to Drug Counselling Professionals and reached the conclusion that I would achieve nothing by pressing James too hard for any further information, even though I was anxious to get to the truth. I was advised, and certainly I felt of the same opinion, that my role was to continue to give James the love and support of the family, but avoiding any prying questions. By taking this route, hopefully he would feel able to open up on this obviously very private side of his life, and gain enough confidence to talk to us.
I can assure you I felt very deeply for you on Saturday, you must have felt you were not getting the feedback you wanted from us, but rightly or wrongly, for us to have started questioning James and pressing for answers to your questions, would in my opinion have made us appear to be disloyal to him, and I believe he would have lost his trust in us. Unfortunately from your point of view it must have appeared as if we were being incredibly naive and dismissing what you were telling us. Actually it was quite the reverse.
As I said previously when you left I felt dreadful, a feeling which must have been very obvious to everyone around and particularly to James. However, on Saturday evening, without any prompting and taking the initiative, James spoke long and painfully to me about his feelings.
I do, however, feel that we have a lot more to discuss, but we are taking one step at a time. I have stressed the importance of him going to the Police and he has assured me he will be doing this at the week-end.
I hope you will understand what I have tried to convey to you but I shall be pleased to speak to you further if you feel it necessary.
With kind regards"
The father of Bryn, one of the two flatmates who discovered his body, had a different approach. It had been impossible to obtain coherent replies from Bryn himself. How much this was a deliberate policy and how much an inability to communicate orally is impossible to say. I once asked him "Did Philip behave in a furtive way?" He replied, "What is 'furtive'?" On the other hand when my son Jonathan asked him whether he had told the police some perfectly innocent fact, he said 'No, he was the sort of person who never told anyone anything if he could avoid it.'
I telephoned Bryn's home address and spoke to his mother who referred me to her husband. I heard her say in the background as she called him, "You'll never believe this."
He was aggressive, refused to have anything to do with me, told me his son was very sensitive, threatened to "have his solicitor on me" and possibly hinted at physical violence. I am amazed as I write his words: "I was brought up hard. I can play rough."
In some way I became almost addicted to the need to tell people, excited that it might help, nervous but keen to see their reaction - could each one amaze me more than the last?
I telephoned Gill's mother one Saturday morning.
"I'm the father of Philip Davies who was a friend of Gill's. Do you know about his death?"
"I have heard something"
"I've waited until Gill's exams are nearly over. Could my wife and I come over and talk to you about the circumstances of his death this week end?"
"I don't see the point in that"
"She is a member of a group that takes drugs. So was my son. I wish someone had told me about Philip"
"I'm most surprised to hear that"
The conversation continued but no meeting was ever agreed.
26th September
We talked to the Haberdashers' parents social committee about drugs. Lots of people were there as they wanted to meet the new Headmaster. I don't think he takes drugs seriously. He said carefully, "while drugs are illegal I shall take every step to prevent their use in this school". When a parent asked what cannabis looked like he made a little joke; "has anyone got any here?" The teacher who organised the meeting said as he showed us out that he estimated sixty per cent of the senior boys smoked cannabis.
28th September
Natasha was supposed to come during the day. We think she has another boyfriend. This is not something to be unhappy about. Philip would not want her denied the experiences of marriage and motherhood. Sally went through the tape of her meeting with the medium. There was no mention of Natasha. Much is meaningless to us but there is just enough to lead to belief.
1st April
Writing a letter to the reception venue about clearing up before the wedding, I thought, "We can get Philip to check that's been done."
Jonathan says that when he phones home and it's engaged, he thinks instinctively, 'Bloody Phil'.
3rd April
It's fine weather. Just like this time last year. Pam recalled Philip saying he didn't want to get old as so many sad things happened. I remember that when very young, he didn't like seeing bonfires flickering and die.
9th April
It's been a difficult Easter both for Pam and me. Last year I suppose we were numbed by shock. We went to a funeral Thursday, Church Friday, Saturday and Sunday and to Philip's grave on Monday. How do you reconcile helping him with his CV one week and taking flowers to his grave the next? Natasha rang today. She had been to the cemetery in the morning.
25th April
Cotter telephoned at 9.45 to tell me that the C.P.S had rung to tell him that we may not know the case was tomorrow. That was very good of the C.P.S. I had telephoned the court several times today. At 3 o'clock, listings still didn't know if the case would be heard tomorrow.
I must give the Vicar a note to remind him to refer to Philip in his address or in the intercessions. What I would really like to do is to talk about Philip and my parents in the wedding speech.
Sometimes I go a few minutes without thinking of him. Occasionally I feel the warm glow of love disconnected from pain.
I remember a family meal with him up in Birmingham. There were helium balloons that we got to hover using teaspoons as a balancing weight. To our continuous amusement, they would drift along the table, every now and then eclipsing a face from view. A slight tilt of a spoon caused one balloon to be lost, shooting up to space, but Phil retrieved it using a 'rescue' balloon equipped with a hook made out of a damp napkin. Without Phil, that balloon might still be there.
1st May
Every time there is a job for one of us to do at the wedding, we think of Philip.
3rd May
We used to have a 'Confirmation of Return' list stuck on the porch door for Philip and Jonathan (and sometimes Sally) to tick off when they arrived home after a night out- 'Last one in locks up'. They used to put on their time of arrival, suspiciously always a little before one. I imagine that the boys got in later than that and Sally somewhat earlier.
Remember when I found both boys asleep in separate cars in the driveway. Neither knew the other was there. Philip's legs were sticking out of the car. We had inadvertently locked them out.
5th May
Pam has written a poem:
Unendingly I mourn my precious son
Too early yet this earthly home he left,
Perfidious sleep confounded nature's order
To leave his loves perpetually bereft.
Those golden dreams and aspirations,
The seed of yesterday a withered bloom,
Those baubles which are cause to celebrate
In death now mock us gently from his tomb.
How treacherous death does steal on youth's exuberance,
To wreak such havoc from the ecstasy of life,
where once was only joy and future promise
Tormented hearts endure eternal strife.
6th May
Natasha came to lunch. Her mother is worried about her. Things remind her of Philip and she mentions them in conversation. She told us of Philip borrowing Johnson's suit to go to a lawyers affair. Philip's suit was at home here. I told Natasha how Johnson reminded Pam of Philip. They looked similar and had similar body movements. I think she didn't like that too much.
Pam says she's been hit by waves of appalling grief and loneliness this past week. It is Sally's wedding next week but she only wants to be with Philip. She wonders whether she does now need help.
12th May
At the wedding Pam was told, 'Only one more to go now'. We want to react but we try to stay composed.
25th May
Odd details about Philip float into my mind all the time. Other thoughts sometimes overlie intrusively but the background remains undisturbed. Some are quite new thoughts that have never occurred to me before. But I do not write them down. Philip wanted the hedge between us and Bryanston to be much denser.
Pam made a little joke today then winced and said "I don't really like jokes now- I don't do it very often" The dog took a pair of Philip's pants from the washing machine and tore them. It upset Pam. I have put them back in my wardrobe, but they are not really wearable or mendable. It will amuse Philip.
31st May
A message awaited me on my desk from Elizabeth Pearce of the West Midlands police, Crown Court section. But it was only a call to tell me that the trial was fixed for 7th October and would I be available as a witness.
5th June
I wrote back to the Gibbs. Their grief for their dead daughter, dead just the same time as Philip, seems unassuaged. I read that about 12,000 children under 19 die in Britain each year, is this possible?
Natasha repeated for me how, at Sally's wedding she had seen Philip standing at the front of the church, near the altar and to one side, looking well in a grey suit. At first she thought it was Robert or Andrew, realised it was Philip, saw him for 5 or ten seconds, looked away and he was gone. He was looking around as if he was checking who was there and how it was going. She was about to say to Joanne, "look it's Philip", but didn't.
6th June
I'm depressed today- it's seeing Natasha and oddly, her vision of Philip. Pam thinks it's just a quirk of her mind. She wants to see him, so she does. A letter came from a customer at work today. They had seen the piece in the Birmingham Evening Mail. It takes one close to tears.
I am so sad that the last time I saw Philip he seemed sad. He turned away rather quickly as we drove off. I sit at my desk. It's lunch time. I love you my boy. I love you. Tears well below my eyes.
The world is not entirely real to me. I am here but there is another here.
9th June
Old cricket balls, things to be thrown for the dog, lying around in the garden upset me. Once they were the children's, now they are the dogs.
Walking in the Old Reddings woods this evening, among mauve Rhododendrons, Pam cried a little and said "did Philip ever see these". We think he probably did. He sometimes came for walks which he liked.
10th June
Natasha's mother telephoned again. I didn't speak to her. She goes over the same ground again adding little new bits. I am glad she rings. I remember hearing Philip on the landing, saying he was thinking of getting engaged and remember how, in effect, I hid in our bedroom. I did not want him to be engaged to Natasha and thought the best way was to pretend to know nothing about it. Hiding away.
14th June
Natasha arranged yesterday to call today in the morning and go with Pam to the cemetery. I went last night in case the grave was parched but it looked fine. Pam and I are beginning to suspect that we will never be happy again. There are odd moments of pleasure and times when one forgets. Wednesday evening I went to a governors meeting which was interesting and I felt quite calm but every twenty five minutes or so I thought consciously of Philip and all the time there is an underlying sadness.
I found in the bedroom side table cabinet the notes I made nearly two years ago for a speech at Philip's twenty first birthday dinner in Stanmore. The affair to which he wouldn't ask people from Birmingham.
"A speech I'm afraid Philip. Well actually just a few ill chosen words- I mean well chosen. Jokes are traditionally part of the speech. In this case I could perhaps just stand here. Philip even more so. It's a pity we can't stand together side by side. Philip would never eat when he was a child. I always told him if he didn't eat his meat he wouldn't grow like his big brother. Well, he didn't and he did grow. A lesson there somewhere.
Talking of tradition I went to a wedding recently. The vicar/celebrant ran through the purposes of marriage. Philip is our last child and it led me to ponder the purpose of Philip. I decided Philip had two purposes.
1. to realise his parents' failed dreams.
2. to be an aid and succour to his aged parents and siblings.
Actually I think he might manage the second. When our dog Polly died he was a tower of strength. Fetching the body, digging the grave. Consoling the grieving parents. Philip says he wants to become Filthy rich. If he doesn't make it as an entrepreneur he will make a fine undertaker.
Living with Philip is like living with a fascinating pile of gaudy facts (did I mean, or say, fads?) and fashions. He has obsessions. The pet fish, the skate board, the BMX, Natasha.
Everyone here tonight can be pretty chuffed. There have been fierce contests, relatives versus friends. So as Philip is exactly 21 and one sixth I want you to stand and drink to Philip. HEALTH, HAPPINESS, PROSPERITY and LONG LIFE"
How easily he died. Less than eight months later a man stood in our hall at home at Philip's funeral wishing me "long life".
After the 21st dinner Philip and some of his friends went off to a nightclub where, I suppose, they took drugs. I was faintly disappointed that the dinner was only part of the evening. Going on somewhere else was not part of my experience when I was 21.
I did go once to the (Coconut Grove?) where Edmundo Ros winked at me. Thirty years later I read he was homosexual. And once I went to somewhere called "The Milroy", an upmarket invitation only club.
I doubt that breathing the gas in the helium filled balloons at Philip's dinner and talking in a funny voice as a result, affected the way Philip thought about drugs. My nephew Nigel, a doctor, led the way.
Eighteen months later I discovered that Philip had been upset at Natasha's diaphanous dress at the dinner. Not that I would have guessed. I think he discussed it with his cousin's wife Julie at Christmas
15th June
Philip has become just the two plastic boxes I carry around with me holding papers about him. The wedding we are going to soon in Shropshire will be a chance to talk about him.
17th June
My most vivid memory of Philip and Jonathan in church is the sun striking two golden heads, as they came down the aisle in black and white, ruffed. Jonathan is now balding and Philip is gone.
We all, except Jonathan, went to Elizabeth Belok's wedding. Pam talked with Paul Beloks' mother in law. Her son died just 2 years ago in a road accident. The anniversary is next Thursday. My mother must have know my fathers' brother, Frank, who died when he was twenty five. Why was I never really interested in that?
A few days ago I met Don. He was grateful that we asked him for Christmas dinner, but really it was at least partially for our benefit, to make the day different, apart from the absence of Phil.
19th June
I suppose Pam cries most days. She saw Philip's toaster yesterday and brought it to work for me to use. It is in very good condition. He looked after his things. I remember seeing him meticulously cleaning his electric tooth brush. He looked after his body. He even exercised before he went out for the last time. I have in my office desk at home a little hand held exerciser he sometimes used.
Pam spoke to Natasha today. She is going for three and a half weeks to Venezuela with a small, ginger haired boy she hardly knows. Pam feels other people are "moving on." Pam isn't and doesn't want to.
22nd June
Pam said black arm bands would be a good idea- the woman in the vets who shouted wouldn't have raised her voice at her. I expect, like car disability stickers, everyone would apply for them to make their lives easier.
We saw Sally's wedding video at home. Why is a funeral video, unthinkable? Pam's Aunt Daisy took pictures at her husband Bob's funeral.
23rd June
I can thank God for Philip's life, short though it was. Can I give thanks for his death which has given me and I think, us, so much more insight?
I found in my cash book the letters I had written to Pam, Joanna, Sally and Jonathan with the outline only of the letter to Philip. I never finished it. Now the letters to be opened on my death can include one to Philip saying I am looking forward to joining him.
27th June
A letter came yesterday from the Charity Commission raising objections to the registration of the Philip Davies Trust. It made me wake up sobbing. It was as if Philip had been rejected. Not so, of course. As Pam said, it's my idea that is rejected, not Philip.
My father died when he was sixty two, my paternal grandfather at sixty three. I have experienced another sort of death at sixty three. Has Philip's death ruined my life, even at this late stage? If there is no point in life unless pleasure outbalances misery, then, for most of us, there is, I think, no point in life.
Pam says, at first, grief for the one who has died, their lost experiences, is the dominant emotion. Then, gradually, one becomes more selfish and thinks mainly of one's own loss.
29th June
I wonder if there are many slightly mad people. Who would think me so? Yet I can sit on the floor in my study sorting my papers, saying to myself, "I am going to succeed in what I do for the glory of Philip. I will tell no one but hug the knowledge to myself." And I usually look as I pass the cemetery on my way home from work because, one day, long after I am dead, I will see him walking down the sloping driveway, away from the just visible circle of flowers, towards the road.
2nd January
I can now put him in a position in my mind so I can for a short time focus on something else. That is the best I can do at the moment.
People often say "he is at peace now". When the vicar said this at the funeral Pam thought, 'he isn't supposed to be at peace, he's supposed to be doing his exams'.
6th January
There is a card on Philip's grave:
"Philip
You never went out of my heart
And never will
Sonya"
I wonder who Sonya is?
January - Undated
When Philip was working in the library of Gouldens solicitors in his last summer he told me "I want to be filthy rich". I was pleased. It seemed an innocent enough ambition and the tone of his voice was witty. Pam thinks it may have been the partners cars he saw down in the basement. Philip liked cars. I hope he wasn't thinking of trading in drugs. I found in his room a very old article from the Telegraph magazine about an Oxbridge graduate, Howard Marks, who dealt in cannabis and made a fortune before going to prison.
I often told Philip how the ideal upbringing was lots of attention and no money. And that freedom was the ability to do the things one didn't want to do.
11th January
I forgot that today is my mother's birthday. Jonathan says his memory has worsened and wonders if it's due to the shock, he keeps on having to look up the names of work colleagues. Pam dreads the next few months. She relives the early months. She didn't realise the pain. She remembers, how after we began to eat, there was a few minutes respite while eating.
January - various dates
It began to dawn on me that the University attitude was to say nothing, do nothing and let as few people as possible know of Philip's death. Two weeks after he died, the Registrars' office had cautiously telephoned the Guild President and enquired "do you know anything about a Philip Davies?" Clearly, if she did not already know the details, she said, she was not going to be told.
A brief reference to Philip's death and the prevalence of drug taking at the university, in the July 15th edition of the Birmingham Evening Mail, included a response from Frank Albrighton, the Director of Public Affairs;
"There is no evidence that this university has a bad record as far as drugs is concerned"
I sent a second letter to Mr. Holmes
Mr Holmes replied with a long conciliatory letter. However, I had asked five questions.
1. Will you hold an enquiry into my son's death?
He replied "We for our part have only hearsay evidence and it would in our view be neither proper nor profitable to conduct any kind of enquiry on this basis "
2. Will you consider banning the promotion on University premises of a particular rave club where hard drugs are consumed ?
The reply to this was "While we cannot control entry to the campus, we are working with the Guild of Students- who are at one with us on this- to try to ensure that these events are not marketed within the University. We may not succeed entirely, but I am sure our efforts will have effect."
Months later this club was still advertising in the Guild of students.
3. Would you ask a particular named tutor how much she knows about the sale of cannabis in the Guild and tell me what action you propose to take? [This tutor had told a student that she knew you could buy cannabis at the Guild]
No specific reply was made to this question apart from, "Police action on the events (the raves) themselves would, of course, be of considerable help. The same applies to our combined efforts to prevent the independent sale of drugs on University premises, though I repeat that the practical difficulties of control are considerable".
4. I have a list of about sixteen people (mostly students) who frequent the campus, who have been or who are drug users and/or minor dealers. If I forward this list to you what steps will you take?
The indirect answer was that they didn't want to know- "I am sure it would be sensible for you to provide the information to the Police who can advise us if they think that there are matters with which we can and should deal."
5. I feel it would be a useful step if you would give a formal letter to all new students arriving at the University this October warning them of the dangers of drugs. I would be happy if you included an explicit reference to my son's death if you wished. Do you agree?
There was no reply to this suggestion, rather an elucidation of several fairly standard procedures such as drugs awareness sessions for staff, a lunchtime exhibition during the second week of term, a 'roadshow' visiting Halls of Residence during the second week etc.
I wrote one last letter to Mr Holmes to try and press my points. Mr Holmes was becoming rather tired of the correspondence. His next letter suggested that his patience was becoming exhausted.
"As I have said, we do understand your concern, but there is inevitably a point beyond which I cannot reasonably be expected to continue with explanation. I will, however, ensure that a copy of the next issue of "Campus Watch" is sent to you."
The next edition of "Campus Watch" was not sent but I could see no point in persevering.
14th January
I remember lighting a bonfire and thinking "it's no use waiting for Philip- he won't come (or be interested)"
15th January
Natasha said that the Sonya who had left flowers on Philip's grave was a girl, keen on Philip, who used to keep going to his room in Mason Hall.
18th January
The Guild of Students building in Birmingham still has posters advertising raves. One, organised by "Substance" has a reference to "hydrophonics". I wonder if that is an allusion to hydroponics. Newspapers often carry reports of arrests for growing cannabis hydroponically.
20th January
Pam heard on the radio "who would want a pizza cutter." She laughed. We found a mysterious object in Philip's room and took it to the police station thinking it a drug taking aid, only to have it identified as a pizza cutter.
I said to Jonathan on the phone yesterday "where are you?". He told me it reminded him what I first said on the telephone ten months ago, "Where are you?"
I still say "Philip" when I mean "Jonathan", I even start typing "Phi"
When Philip was alive my confusion with names used to irritate Pam, now she finds it comforting.
21st January
I don't want to go to heaven if Philip's not there. Is that a sinful thought?
22nd January
I found Philip's driving licence which expires in 2043. I can't believe that Philip has just ceased to exist. That all is oblivion for him, now and for ever. That life is meaningless.
23rd January
Pam said that with time things shift. At first we felt most pain at Philip's loss of life. Now we see it more through our eyes. I do not know that is true of me.
Natasha's mother told me that when she rang the University on Monday 20th March to say that Natasha wouldn't be in because someone had died the Dean's very first reaction was to question aloud, "I wonder if it was the boy whose parents I wrote to about his poor exam results? Has he killed himself?" I don't see why this is discreditable to the Dean. He may just have the matter on his mind. But the inference was that he was simply anxious about his own position.
Sally bought a birthday card for Pam with flowers, poppies, on it. Pam asked me "do they have any significance for you?" All I could think of was "Flanders." Pam laughed, and said "Opium, that should make Philip laugh"
29th January
Nearly fifty years ago I saw Brighton Rock. Walking along Pinner Road back to her house, I said to Veronica Humphries "the only hope for me is to get in with a bad lot." She didn't like that. What I meant aged, fifteen or sixteen, was that I would become hard and capable, like seventeen year old, Pinkie. Is that how Philip felt? I told him he tended to do what I would have liked to do but was too timid. He found unsuitable friends exciting and described worthy people as boring. Did he see the minor Pinkies at Birmingham as people who would allow his personality to grow and expand?
5th February
Pamela's father's birthday today and my father's tomorrow. They would be eighty five and ninety six. They died too soon but I guess 1996 was always likely to be out of their reach.
I'm typing out pencil scrawled on the back of an envelope and dated 27th December 1995.
"I have gone mad. My life is a struggle till the break of day, so that Philip's will be spared. Genesis. Yet to think this, is an escape as well. The struggle is unavoidable, but if consciously entered into, will ease my remaining life."
7th February
Today is the 7th February. Yesterday was my father's birthday and the day before was Granddad's, Pam's father's. Yesterday I pretended to spit toothpaste over the banisters at Sally. This morning Pam made a joke noise to activate an electric light bulb that's sound sensitive. Neither of us would have done that a month ago. This is what people mean by "getting over it." But this morning in my office I sat listening to a computer salesman and visualised Philip, making up a fourth at the desk we were sitting around. For God, all things are possible.
8th February
I cried walking round the park with the dog last night. Sat on the bench outside Parkside Football Club, sobbing in the darkness.
10th February
There's a lot of different Philips in different situations in my memories. I let go of one and feel the pain. Then he is back again.
Philip used to sink below the water in the bath. I did not like that. He was the child I didn't take swimming. He was too young when we went with our friends the Gallachers and I didn't take him later. He liked swimming.
12th February
It is almost a year since we saw Philip last, a rather nice lunch in a restaurant of his choice with a pint or perhaps a half pint of beer each, sitting in a half secluded semi circle close to steps to a different level. And then a walk around the miserable piece of ground at the top of Bournbrook Road with goodbye outside no.146. Philip was rather withdrawn as we left and I felt a little sad. It was a cold day.
In Switzerland, a week later I saw some people with flowers in the crypt of a Monastery. Pam and I had gone to listen to the monks chanting. I thought it was a good way to bury people. I didn't think that within a month we would be putting Philip in a hole in the ground.
13th February
Natasha came for a meal; Just she, Pam and me in the kitchen. Natasha said that on the evening of Saturday,18th March her mother had telephoned Philip's house and she was telling her mother that Philip had died from heroin when Bryn had reached from behind her and cut the telephone off, demanding, panic stricken, "Who are you talking to. Who are you telling that?"
19th February
A few days ago I was in bed saying my prayers. I had been reading about Sai Baba. As I said them I received red and yellow pictures of exotic flowers, rather asparagus looking in type, in pillars, preceded by dark red swirls. They formed as I started each prayer. Curious.
Last night I dreamt about Philip. He was in a building, half way up on the left hand pavement, looking up the south side of Harrow on the Hill. I feel he was on the first floor of the building. It was dark. I think I was with someone else. He came out, crossed the road and disappeared along a downward sloping path a hundred yards or so up the hill. A tall, rangy figure, dimly seen, with a flash of whitish shirt, as he glanced back.
Pam cried at supper. She thought of her last letter to Philip being delivered, dropping through the letter box on that Saturday morning, with him inside, lying upstairs, already dead.
29th February
It is a very difficult time now. It may be the approach of spring. It may be the advancing anniversary. There are more tears now. I hate seeing bulbs come through, I hate not seeing post for Phil, I hate snow on the grave, I hate hearing about other peoples' problems being sorted out.
I remember reading long before Philip died "that drugs and corruption will spread out of the ghetto and kill your children". I suspect that I found the concept, even though it was in a U.S. setting, exciting, but only so because I felt quite secure. It would not affect my children.
I have sent a little note to Emma Barber's parents. It must be very near her anniversary. The graves look dishevelled this time of year.
7th March
Natasha and her father saw Professors Feldman and Miller and Mr. Holmes. Her mother told me they were hostile to an essay competition in commemoration of Philip: "not appropriate", "Students shouldn't be asked to write about drugs". I remember the expression "not appropriate" was repeatedly used when we asked to have announcements made at lectures pleading for students to tell what they knew about Philip's death.
9th March
We had a little card from the Barbers. I cried at breakfast.
10th March
Pam cried when she saw Philips's big white plimsolls/trainers lying in the porch where Jonathan had left them. I would have thought them too big for Jonathan to wear.
James' mother sent a card saying that we were in her thoughts. Nice woman.
14th March
Every time Johnson replied "not guilty" to the charges, he swallowed. Amazing facts appear in Court. The recent change in housing benefit means a house is kept empty, with the rent paid while the designated occupant is in prison, for 13 weeks only. Previously it was one year. A barrister in one case used this to argue for the earlier release of his client.
When we got home there was a big post. I thought they were commiseration letters. It is only 4 days to the 18th. But they were Sally's wedding invitation replies. I have always thought that a 13 month year with the first, eighth, fifteenth and twenty second, being Mondays would be a good idea. I'm not so sure I want the eighteenth to always be a Saturday.
17th March
We all went to the cemetery together. Would Philip want the laurels? Would he want the memorial candlelight (which, to Philips undoubted amusement, we bought in the Jewish delicatessen shop) on the grave, or at home, or at all?
We sang "Shine Jesus shine" at church but his name was read only on Saturday.
18th March
Pam woke at 4.49am - was that the time he died?
Sally was talking in the car about her wisdom teeth extraction. Philip was the only child with perfect teeth.
March - various dates
We believed that the full inquest was going to be soon after Philip's death and that we would need legal advice and possibly, representation. We wanted to know exactly how Philip had died and felt this would emerge at the Inquest. We also wanted the police to prosecute whoever was responsible for supplying the drugs that it was now obvious had been widely used by Philip and his friends. It was also becoming apparent, particularly to my son Jonathan, that we were being deliberately misled by some when we asked about life at Birmingham University. So we prepared a summary and sent it off to solicitors who mentioned drugs and criminal activities in the trade directory, the Legal 500.
Summary
"Philip Davies, a law student at the University of Birmingham, aged twenty one, died in the early hours of Saturday, 18th March, after an evening spent in the Guild Building (Students Union). We believe he was given diamorphine by a Birmingham graduate Alex Johnson.
Philip was a fairly regular smoker of cannabis since school days with occasional use of ecstasy. Since September 1994 this seems to have been substantially replaced by the taking of cocaine about once a fortnight. We believe he had never knowingly taken heroin before. We understand that he had once taken methadone, this being the week before his death.
We seek a firm of solicitors for the following two purposes:
1. To recommend and instruct a barrister to represent Philip's family at the inquest, and to assist generally with the inquest, the date of which is not yet known. Mr. Clive Townsend is our contact at the Coroner's Court, Newton Street, Birmingham B4 6NF.
2. To assist Philip's family help the police in obtaining and assembling evidence which the police can present to the Crown Prosecution Service, in the hope that they will decide that they have sufficient evidence to bring a successful prosecution against Johnson who has been bailed to return to Belgrave Road Police Station on 30th May 1995. Our contact at the Police Station is D.C. Mike Boyle."
This summary was posted to several firms of solicitors and phone calls were made to arrange for my son Jonathan and I to discuss matters with them. We went once or twice to a slightly sinister Offenbach & Co. and to a rather more cheerfully sinister, Breeze, Benton. My son's letter to Breeze, Benton & Co. was typical.
"We confirm our appointment at 11.30 a.m. on 3rd May to see any of your partners specialising in drug related criminal cases, if possible.
I am available between 9a.m. and 1p.m. and after 4.30 p.m. if a change of appointment time is necessary.
There follows a list of the main issues on which we may like to take legal advice."
CASE OF PHILIP DAVIES
OBJECTIVES
ADVICE RE: CROWN PROSECUTION SERVICE AND INQUEST PROCEDURE
ADVICE RE: OUR POSSIBLE COURSES OF ACTION
SPECIFIC AREAS
1) INQUEST - the mechanics of the proceedings
- the role and rights of the family
- the collection of evidence and powers of the Coroner
- the role of the police as agents to the Coroner
- access to relevant information
- inquest findings and their consequences
- possibility of representation at inquest
2) CASE AGAINST DRUG SUPPLIER - potential charge
- likelihood of successful conviction
- role of family in facilitating collection of evidence
- access to police evidence e.g. forensic
- C.P.S procedure
- press notification
- reward for information
- perverting the course of justice
3) OTHER REMEDIES - private prosecution process
- civil remedies
After the meeting I made a brief note to remind me. '3 o'clock with Mr. McLarty. Young chap, crumpled suit, terrible offices, very clear and intelligent'. The note could have been applied with little alteration to most of our other meetings.
We had telephone conversations and interviews with various other firms of solicitors. I sought the advice of Neville Russell, our accountants at work, who recommended a firm of accountants in Birmingham. I had been taught at school by Merlyn Rees, now Lord Merlyn Rees. He put me in touch with his son Gareth, a barrister, who recommended several other firms. We were warned by someone not to instruct Kingsley Napley on the grounds that they may overcharge and indeed, they were the only firm to attempt to bill us for the initial interview in which we discussed employing them.
Persuaded that it was probably better to employ a local firm we made arrangements to see solicitors in Birmingham. Our first contact Adie, Evans & Warner, said they could not act for us as they were already defending in a "high profile case involving drugs at the University of Birmingham." We never heard anything further of this case and assume that the University managed to contain any publicity. In an interview at another solicitor, the Partner told us that he had given his articled clerk the detailed outline of the position as we saw it. The articled clerk, a Birmingham graduate, said he recognised the names of the people mentioned as those from whom one could buy drugs.
Eventually we settled on the recommendation of a Jill Tweedie of the charity Inquest, that had been conveyed to us via Gareth Rees. She said she had heard good reports of a firm called Addison, Cooper & Jesson, in Walsall. We called on the firm, liked Mr. Cotter, partly because he said he would withdraw after a couple of weeks if he didn't like the way we wanted to work, and instructed him to act for us. The fact that Mr Cotter was himself a coroner in Walsall was also influential.
'Inquest' is an interesting organisation. Funded mainly, if not entirely, by the London Boroughs Grants Committee it appears to aim at raising public awareness of the role of Coroners Courts, the rights of relatives of the deceased and to encourage support for the restriction, or at least, the codification of the powers of a coroner.
5th October
Rick Carter said he was sorry to hear about Philip "it is some (a long?) time now". He has four sons. It is no time to Pam and me. That's the first time anyone has said 'it's a long time'.
6th October
I very seldom put the radio on in the car. I used it for a few days in August but usually it's unbearable. Pam started to look at cookery books again in September.
14th October
The letter that arrived from the de Millevilles made me cry at breakfast when I arrived at "pray for his salvation and for your consolation". Not many people in England would write like that.
It was very quiet in the cemetery today. Pam was visiting elderly Miss Howard who wishes she could be permitted to die, and I retrieved the geraniums from my parents grave for the winter and trimmed the grass around Philip's. Pam collected me from the cemetery, sat on the bench close to Philip's grave and cried.
Yesterday, Tom and Diana's father was buried in a beautiful little cemetery in Haselmere. As we stood at the top of a slope overlooking the grave I said "it's the first funeral I've been to since Philip's. It's very hard."
15th October
Pam has had only little cries today. I want to double the size of my company to please Philip.
As I went to bed this Sunday evening I passed Philip's photograph on the table by the door in the sitting room; just two inches by three inches. Every night I say the same prayer.
'Lord, guard, protect, watch over the soul of my son Philip. Send the light of your countenance to shine upon him. Let light perpetual shine upon him. Take his hand in yours and lead him to wisdom and full stature. Lord let us one day see and recognise each other again and permit us to live for ever in your presence, re-united in amity, harmony, joy and love. Oh God in the infinite width of your compassion, grant me this prayer.'
16th October
The Telegraph had a front page article about students dead in Africa. One had been to Birmingham. It made us cry.
Ray Holmes has just telephoned.
"How are you?
Oh, coming along.
Oh, have you been ill?
No, its the bereavement actually"
Another thing to make Philip laugh.
17th October
Natasha came for a meal. We didn't talk much about Philip at first and then we did.
19th October
If I had written to Philip every day in Lent, as I thought about doing, would he be alive now?
20th October
It's 31 weeks, 217 days since Philip died.
21st October
Sally's friend Jane Baker's wedding today at Pinner Parish Church and the service for me was suffused with Philip. We gave Philip a funeral, not a wedding. I have not appreciated the 1928 service before. It's full of love and it has taken Philip's death for me to properly understand that there is nothing else. It hurt when Jane Baker's husband's parents mentioned their five children but as Sai Baba says, that is just possessiveness.
The article in the Birmingham Evening Mail has arrived. Andrew Green sent it. I must show Natasha. Some quotes are wrong as is his age.
23rd October
A bad night last night. It's probably the taking of compost to the grave to fill the hollows that appear and the imminent removal of summer flowers to be replaced by winter flowering pansies. My world is wrecked because Philip is dead. But nothing is really changed. We are all going to die, it is simply the order of death which has altered and I believe, or at least fervently hope, that our world here is just an ante room. If the manner of Philip's death increases my pain, that is selfish of me. Do we think that the way he died reflects adversely on us? If he had died in a car crash would it have been less painful? Outrageous, when my love for him is absolute, to consider such a proposition. I hate him having no children. Selfish to regret the children he has not had. Jonathan says that our genes are quickly absorbed in the gene pool and his and his sisters are the same as Philip's. But when I see attractive, fair young people I think "that might have been Philip's child." And he did have a child; aborted, and I knew nothing of it.
I am not now so sure I prefer burials to cremations. I do not like the grave settling. I have a picture of the chipboard coffin collapsing. The man with three dead children said "you have to top up with compost as the grave settles and the coffin collapses". Taking the four sacks of B & Q compost today is not going to be easy.
Every night when I bolt the front door, I say, "We are not locking you out Philip, because you live in our hearts for ever". I'm pleased he knew he could father children.
It was not so bad at the cemetery. I must remember to tell Natasha that we have left room in the grave near the cross at the head for her to plant anything she wants. The tough moment was when Pam had the cross out to varnish it and I, holding it, said, "wipe its bottom" and looked at the warping wood and above all saw the rust around the screws holding the little, brass coloured nameplate. We cried then.
Back at work, about to go home, Natasha rang to say she would come round this evening. Pam, when I rang to warn her, said it was becoming too much to cope with.
24th October
This morning in bed, Pam admitted she sometimes had slight feelings of anger, directed at Philip; very slight and very occasional. I don't find that. If I die and wake and experience Philip's presence there would be no recriminations, only joy. Joy so intense that one might die.
Natasha said as we ate last night that Philip had been "different" on her twenty first Birthday. Pam wonders if this is
a) true?
b) due to the stress of his relationship with her?
c) drug induced?
Pam and I went with Pamela Lee and Jonathan Turner to the Tate. Pam Lee talks
now about her daughter Sharon, dead thirty three years, and her other daughter, Allison. How smug we must have seemed before our disaster. Pam Lee remembers how she told Allison, "I'm your mother, not your friend," and wonders if that was misguided. I remember often telling my children that I had lots of children in case one of them died and replying, when one asked how I would feel if one did, "gleeful."
25th October
An odd thought, "I have to lead a satisfactory life for Philip".
Pam spoke to Joanna on the telephone about the letter Joanna was writing to a couple who had lost their child a few days after birth. What could she say? If they had been offered twenty one years of the child's life they would have jumped at it (would they?). Pam feels Joanna is suffering in that she has fewer people to talk to. Her friends no longer want to talk about Philip. Pamela wants to write down everything that has happened.
26th October
Yesterday we drove to Charlbury and saw Pam's relatives who are getting old. George Rutherford has been retired twenty five years: longer than Philip lived. This morning in bed Pam and I talked of how we could forget details about Philip. They would come into one's head and be lost in a minute or two. Pam writes them down but doesn't like to be seen doing so. I remember less pleasant bits about Phil. How he wouldn't get up, wouldn't come for walks with the dog, wouldn't come for runs. I wish I had spent more time with Philip. It's better to blame oneself. Otherwise it's possible to think that Philip who we love, was an ass who preferred drugs to worthwhile pursuits. Pam remembers that he wouldn't join the O.T.C or the sailing/sail boarding group at Birmingham.
And why did he refuse help from Pam over his French A level?
27th October
Pam went to Natasha's today. Natasha was on the telephone to Nick when Pam arrived. Pam didn't like that. She says "when Natasha is at home she's ours, but at her home she's not." Pam recognises that one day Natasha will have another boy friend and hopes that it won't be a friend of Philip's, although I think I might prefer that.
6th November
Professor Feldman rang me. He couldn't see us Thursday except before ten or after seven o'clock. I told him there was no urgency. He apologised for the delay and said that Professor Holmes hadn't replied to the copy of the letter I had sent Professor Feldman.
7th November
Joanna said she went ten minutes not thinking of Philip today. Pam said she found herself momentarily looking forward to the next day. I suppose we have to accept these moments of relief and be grateful instead of guilty and expectant of misery to follow.
November - Undated
Pam has written a poem:
Part of me is dead
My inside feels wrenched out
Part of my future and my past
Is snatched away
In one moment
lost forever
All those years of caring, teaching, worrying, helping
him grow, loving exchanges, humour and arguments,
planning, pride and hope, buried in his beautiful
body which now lies decaying in the earth.
No joys of fatherhood for him.
No family gatherings in which to share the happiness of togetherness.
No chance to put the foolishness of youth behind him
No chance to know maturity and manhood
No chance to fill the potential that was within
No chance to meet all those he would have met and loved
No chance to know the many joys and wonders yet unknown
No chance to make his contribution to the world
No chance to live
No chance to say goodbye. No chance.
15th November
I awoke in the night feeling better. I woke in the morning feeling much worse.
Phyllis at work told me she "had Philip on her church's dead list". Pam says how Mrs Grant, who has helped with cleaning for many years, finds it difficult to go in Philip's room. She has had an intimate insight into his life over many years, closer than many friends and even family.
Natasha dreamt she went into Philip's room and found him just awakened from a coma. He said, he hadn't been certain whether he was going to die and just wanted us to get on with our lives. Natasha said there were lots of things she wanted to tell him and he said he had been watching us. She asked "aren't you angry that I've been driving your car" and he replied "no".
16th November
Natasha and Pam went to the cemetery. She told Pam that she had dreamt that her mother had another baby and wouldn't let her hold it, saying, "No, you got rid of your baby".
Natasha said Philip had enjoyed work experience at Gouldens, the solicitors, but on returning to Birmingham had been told "You've missed a fine summer. You could have sold drugs and not worked".
14th December
I hate clearing out from the files at work the orders we got before Philip was born and calculating "this is 1977, Philip must have been four". I wish I had spent more time with him.
Next February/March there will be a re-union for those that left Habs five years ago. Pam hates the idea that Philip did not survive five years from the end of his schooldays.
15th December
I once sent a letter to Philip addressed simply by name and post code. It came back with a note saying many houses in Bournbrook Road had the same code and the letter was undeliverable.
December- undated
Philip died sometime after midnight on Friday 17th March and before four o'clock, Saturday afternoon. His housemate John unsuccessfully telephoned Alex Johnson at 3.55am on the Saturday morning. He forgot to tell the police about this when he gave them his statement but on production of the phone bill explained that he thought 'Phil was drunk and would have liked Alex there'. Another housemate Bryn called Alex, unsuccessfully, at 2.26pm on Saturday, 'to see where everybody was'. Finally, at 4.06pm, he was successfully contacted by Mark and immediately came round to the house to be shown the body.
Only then was an ambulance called, by the time it arrived Alex had already gone.
20th December
When my mother was in the Clacton convalescent home and I arrived unexpectedly, she said it was just like a boy friend arriving without warning. My love for Philip is beginning to develop the same sort of pain as unrequited love.
25th December
It is exhausting. Pam's crying as we go to bed. The Xmas wrapping was the trigger. Much of the time it's like living in an orderly nightmare.
26th December
There was an empty place laid at my brothers' Boxing Day family meal. It was for Philipe, Lise's brother, who was unable to come. I did not really notice but Pam did.
31st December
Back from our three nights in Forfar with Sally's finance's parents, I realise that they did not like us talking about Philip. Perhaps they were just embarrassed. Perhaps they thought we are embarrassed. Perhaps they think that to die from heroin is shameful.
Last night, in dreams, we were in what, I later realised, was a safari park, somewhere in East Africa. Then, just Philip and I were alone in a narrow alley that was full of people, a cross between Pinner Fair and an Indian/African township. Philip wanted to join a queue going up a very tight stairway. I didn't want him to. He did and I realised they would reach the top and emerge through a small hole into bright sunlight, one by one, where blinking, blinded by the sun, someone would pretend to hit them. I took over this job. But I missed Philip coming out of the hole (if he ever did) and I could not find him. Oh God, look after my son Philip.
24th July
Bryn met Natasha's sister by chance in London. "I've put all that behind me- I've forgotten Birmingham. I have a new life" he told her over coffee.
27th July
Philip’s friend Nick called at home which was nice of him. He said Philip had tried L.S.D. while at school.
Pam has been having panic attacks especially when shopping. She says the pain, in a sense, worsens as other people forget and it closes in on us only. Young people's horizons expand, Philip's are closing. An arrow from the bow has turned and is lost somewhere close.
2nd August
Jonathan and I went to work together in the normal way. I telephoned D.C.Boyle just after nine to ask him how he was getting on, and whether he had received the fax I sent him. He said he thought we would be in Birmingham today for the Hearing so I told him that the Magistrates Court had said there was no listing. He was surprised, offered to find out and ring back. He did so in five minutes; Court 9, 2 o'clock, 1.45 for prisoners. Jonathan and I altered arrangements, went home, collected our suits and arrived around 12.45, eating sandwiches and changing in the car park. Our solicitor, Mr. Cotter rang when we were driving up. He said he would come. It might be a non event. The Crown Prosecution Service representative, or agent, in Court would have thirty or more files and would probably know nothing of Philip's case. The police, Cotter said, would let us look at the photographs taken in Philip's room but didn't want them out of their possession.
Alex Johnson was in a suit, his hair in a bun. A friend came with him. I introduced myself to the C.P.S. man, a Mr. Barker who later told the Court that Philip was said to have been drunk. The toxicology report shows under five milligrams in his blood, a minute amount, less than one pint. I hope that doesn't matter. Who is the witness, Joan Wright, that Johnson has been told to keep away from?
After the court hearing we went to see Martin Banks, a rather scruffy young man, at the Birmingham Post and then waited to see D.C.Boyle at the police station. Also waiting there was a man who said he had been arrested after catching and tying up two of three youths he and a neighbour had caught after they had broken into his house.
3rd August
Pam, Sally and I left home about midday and drove to see Mr. Cotter, stopping close by to eat the sandwiches Pam had prepared. He had arranged for us to see a pathologist who ran through the ambulance, toxicology and post mortem reports. He couldn't say much. I suspect he was not familiar with drugs. The time of death was probably six to twelve hours before the ambulance was called at four o'clock, Saturday afternoon.
Ambulance Report
PT FOUND BY FELLOW STUDENTS LYING ON R SIDE ON BED UNRESPONSIVE COLD TO TOUCH AND STIFF - NOT SEEN SINCE LAST NIGHT! TOLD BY FELLOW STUDENTS THAT HE WENT TO BED LAST NIGHT AFTER DRINKING A LARGE AMOUNT + TAKING ? HEROIN ? BLOOD SEEN AROUND NOSE AND ON PILLOW + SMALL AMOUNT OF ? GASTRIC CONTENT
Toxicology Report
ANALYSIS DID NOT SHOW THE PRESENCE OF A TOXICOLOGICALLY SIGNIFICANT QUANTITY OF ETHYL ALCOHOL IN THE BODY OF THE DECEASED. THE CONCENTRATION OF MORPHINE IN THE BODY IS AT A LEVEL ASSOCIATED WITH FATALITY AND MAY HAVE CAUSED DEATH. THE PRESENCE OF BENZOYLECGONINE IN THE URINE IS CONSISTENT WITH THE DECEASED HAVING USED COCAINE AT SOME TIME PRIOR TO DEATH.
No kidney or liver damage. The cocaine in his urine could have been taken many days earlier if it was part of a large dose. It was not possible to say if the heroin had been taken in one or two doses. It was probably eaten rather than sniffed as there was so much in his blood. Other common drugs not detected.
We discussed various matters with Mr Cotter. He praised the proposed letters to Bryn and John and vetoed that to Alex Johnson. He made a strong point that as Crown Court proceedings now appeared likely, we had to be seen in the role of victims, not as pursuers of Johnson.
After leaving Mr.Cotter in Walsall we drove to Mellisa (Mo's) lodging's in Pershore Road, Birmingham known as "The Palace". I've asked her to tell the police all she knows. Mo said that as I hadn't made up my mind whether or not I was going to contact her parents, she wouldn't see me, so Pam and Sally went in. I sat in the car in the road that leads to Philip's lodgings, wrote and walked around. Odd how one feels Philip lives. There is a Baptist church nearby. Stickers say "Jesus Lives"
4th August
Pam woke crying. She is frantic and miserable. I dreamt of Philip. He looked like a smaller Alex Johnson and miserable. I put my arms around him and told him we loved him. Pam is crying now as she irons my shirt. Yesterday upset her. She didn't ask Mo all she wanted to.
August - Undated
The story of Phil arriving home from the Guild of Students appears to have been orchestrated. Mark told us that Phil fell asleep on John's bed and was carried to his own. When I spoke to his parents, they had been told that Phil was found collapsed on the top of the stairs, James' parents had heard likewise. Do they feel so guilty for not calling an ambulance? WE DON'T CARE. WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.
And why did they call Alex Johnson on his mobile at 3.55am? Why didn't they tell the police?
11th August
Jonathan rang Philip's bank today. It is about 20 weeks now. I begin to feel better. On Friday 11th August I want to have the garden nice for when Philip comes back.
11th August
A few days before he died, the man coming to collect his damaged car asked if he could use the toilet. Philip said yes, then remembering there was no toilet paper, bounded after him, shouting "Is it number one or number two's?"
12th August
Pam dreamt about Phil last night, the first time. She heard the phone ring and his footsteps- a long stride, behind her, as he went to answer it. That's all.
I was in the garden Friday night. It will be nice to get it right for when he comes back.
17th August
I think I see why I could not persuade Philip to keep a diary and send me details of how he spent his time at Birmingham, even in return for money as an incentive. Philip didn't want his Birmingham friends to come to his 21st celebration. We understand. He said "they wouldn't fit in."
18th August
I put the radio on in the car for the first time today and played French tapes.
It was six weeks before we had turned on the kitchen radio again, twelve weeks before the television. It was about then that I remember our first joke, or at least our first humour, a rather feeble misunderstanding between 'Pinewood' and a 'Pile of wood'.
19th August
At first there was a rush to empty Phil's room, now we dare not touch it. Pam said she looked at his room today without a 'stab'. She then woke in the middle of t