We’ll Meet Again
The minute Ian walked into the waiting room; he knew he had come to the wrong place. Rows of uncomfortable looking chairs, most with old people sitting in them, all waiting patiently. Some of them looked as though they had been there a while already.
The bright light in the white painted room hurt his eyes and the constant faint humming was beginning to annoy him. He sat down on the nearest empty chair and discovered he had been right; it was uncomfortable. He had never understood why. If you must make people wait, surely a comfortable chair wasn’t too much to ask?
He looked around, wondering why he was there, and if he wanted to wait to find out. He felt so tired.
A younger man walked past him on the way to the door Ian had just come through. The man pushed the door, but it didn’t open. He was trying again, using more of an effort, when a nurse in a white uniform appeared, took his arm, and led him to a chair.
This posed a question for Ian. Why hadn’t that door opened? Something else occurred to him, something that made no sense at all. He had been in so much pain for a long time, but it had gone, and he felt fine.
More than fine in fact and a thought came to him. He didn’t need to be in this waiting room at all.
He stood up and walked to the door, wondering if the door would open for him, then, somewhere behind him, someone began to sing.
He recognised the song and turned to see who was singing. A tall, elegant, and attractive elderly woman was standing at the front of the room, singing the song everyone remembered so well from the days of the last war.
She smiled at Ian and held out her arms as she sang the last words of the song.
“I knew we would meet again, one sunny day…”
In loving memory of Dame Vera Lynn and Sir Ian Holm
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