The Phone Call

THIS afternoon I was hauling some books up to the post office in the official BFP shopping trolley, itself luminous green, when the lecture I was listening to by Aldous Huxley was interrupted by an automated message in Portuguese. I removed my headphones, looked at my phone and was surprised to see that a number had been activated and consequently overridden my music folder.

I had a bit of a shock, as the contact in particular was that of my late son and his name was emblazoned across the screen. I then realised that my phone must have tried to call him, something that has never happened before in relation to any of the numbers in my address book. It would take quite a few clicks to get into that section and, even more unusually, once the operator had told me the number was unavailable the lecture simply continued as before.

Although it sounds odd, ten days ago I called my son's number for the first time because I was missing him and just wanted to make contact. I knew I wouldn't get through and that his number no longer exists, but I wanted to 'connect' in some way, however futile. I must admit, after today's experience I did wonder if this wasn't simply a way for him to return my call.