The telephone rang at about 8 a.m. this morning. It was Derek, my eldest brother. Father had died in the night. He had not got up and Mother, seeing the light still on in his room went in, at first thought him asleep and then realised that he was dead. I remember saying to Julia years ago, "Don't think I will shed a tear when this happens and I shan't feel any guilt about it." I was right. When I think recently how I wept after having suddenly seen that remarkable man, Anthony Wagner, blind, it marks the degree as to how far I remained totally unmoved by the news.
How could it be otherwise? He was never interested in any of us. He had barely adressed a word to me for the last twenty-five years. Home in retrospect was largely hell, and all one regrets is that one didn't get away from it soon enough.
The Roy Strong Diaries, 21 November 1984.
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