The Paraphysical Laboratory (Paralab) was an L-shaped former farm-house in Wiltshire, on a high vantage point far away from mad-made noises and street lights. It was a labour of love to encourage your car, which frequently red-lighted, up the rutted path to the building. The only way up and down.
I was to sleep in the Blue Room, which really meant that it was the only room that had the original bluish wall-paper. It also had even more dust than the rooms downstairs and there were books from floor to ceiling along each wall. In the middle was a bed of sorts and I decided to sleep with all clothes on.
With head on pillow (my own) I lay there in the pitch-black darkness wondering what the morrow would bring, listening to the absolute stillness, with not even the sound of a night-owl to disturb me. And then it started, quite soft at first, and I was straining to hear this new noise. Within a few moments the noise had turned into a roaring chatter. The only way I can describe it is as if I had suddenly been transported to Piccadilly Circus, a continuous hum of voices and traffic. (Of course, the time was the early 80`s when it was still possible to cross the roads and sit on the steps under Eros- the favourite meeting-place for lovers! (Ah, those days!) )
I had a miserable night, turning continually, and even at one point stuffing my ears with tissue and pulling the bedclothes over my head. I went down in the morning, forcing a bright smile on my face and greeted Ben and a friend who had also spent the night there. Ben asked me how my night had been and not wanting to offend I said: OK, thanks. The two men looked at each other and then back at me with a `Are you sure?` look. So I unburdened myself and confessed to a night of horror. Ben smiled knowingly and said: Ah well, that`s what happens to everyone who gets to spend the night in the Blue Room! And that was the end of that.
More later.
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