See You Anon

 

The bluebells have just started to come out in the gardens at Betley Court. 2021 has seen quite a late start to bluebell season, as here on the North Staffordshire/Cheshire East border, we encountered an April of sharp night frosts. For the first time in 45-years, Godfrey – Professor Brown is not here to enjoy them.

Godfrey in 2020, a socially distanced birthday meal for his 94th birthday

Professor Brown greeted each flowering season with joy. He was delighted when a glossy lifestyle magazine – either Cheshire or Staffordshire Life, I forget which one – described the bluebell display at Betley Court as one of the best in the area. For many years, the Brown family hosted a bluebell walk, to share the beautiful display with local folk. Even when he became wheelchair bound, one of ‘the boys’ (his grown -up sons) would ensure Professor was taken down as far as the gazebo to gaze at the bluebell woods in the dingle whilst the bluebells were at their prettiest.

The caerulean hue of the bluebells (hyacinthoides non-scripta) down in the dingle

He wrote a poem ‘Caerulean Blue’ in praise of them. I had hoped to be able to share it here, but alas, I fear we have lost our copies of this poem in the fateful fire of 2019. Perhaps we will be lucky and uncover a copy lost deep in the files of a computer hard drive. Or perhaps he published it in Eccentric Harmonies, the eclectic collection of musings on life at Betley Court written by the residents?

Photo: Martin Brown

The sad but necessary business of informing family and friends, and closing down a loved one’s life has begun. As a family, we are getting to grips with the reality of organising a funeral under current Covid rules, with its limits on numbers at the funeral, and no chance of a wake afterwards, for the time being. We’ve been inundated with messages from well-wishers; letters, flowers and many, many messages via social media. We’ve been touched by the memories people have sent – Godfrey’s smile and twinkling blue eyes are mentioned often, along with his kindly manner, intelligence and erudition. He was clearly held in great affection by his carers too, and it is lovely to think of him making new friends right up to the end.

Godfrey in the drawing room at a residents' event

Godfrey was always an enthusiastic supporter of the arts. In fact, we met because he gave me my first job after graduating with an arts degree, in Betley Court Gallery, as his gallery assistant. He provided all sorts of interesting tasks for me; I learned how to restore furniture, reframe prints and clean paintings during my time there. I also undertook a number of commissions that he promoted me for (a plaque commemorating Rev. Armstrong hangs in St Margaret’s church, made for his widow, Stella).

Betley Court Gallery c.1980s

I will remember him most fondly for what I called his 'enthusiasms' - he'd dream up eccentric schemes for the gardens at Betley Court and rope, me, and our handymen Tony, Melvyn and Shane into making them reality. These include the Peace Sculpture (inspired by the discovery of a WW2 air raid siren on a chimney), a miniature railway for the grandchildren, and an eight-foot fibre glass rhinoceros that watches over the house from the paddock. Not to forget the ongoing maintenance of Betley Court itself!

Our very own rhino! One of Godfrey's enthuiasms.

Godfrey encouraged me to write too, to consider publishing, and never to be too shy to approach an editor with an idea. And he also supported the arts by commissioning original works from other artists including Philip Knapper, and Charis Jones. He chose the motto “vita brevis, ars longa” for the gallery, acknowledging that whilst life is short, art lasts. Like the proverbial baton, he knew he would be passing on the task of looking after Betley Court to the next generation one day.

Of course, I met Nigel through Godfrey and Freda, his visits to his father’s gallery to see if I was OK becoming more frequent, and less about gallery business until, eventually I became part of the family. Our three children each have elements in them that I can trace straight back to their grandparents, our youngest, in particular has Godfrey’s love of performance.

I will feel Godfrey's absence enormously around Betley Court, but I will remember him with a huge amount of affection. And I will think of him every time the bluebells return in Spring.

In all the year I knew him, he never said goodbye, but preferred ‘See you anon!’ with a distinctive wave of his right arm. So, I will sign off this week, with a teary See you anon, Godfrey, and rest in peace, reunited with your beloved Freda.

Ladybird Su