Just as I was posting that last entry, I got a call with some news.
Dunkan died this morning. He was semi-conscious and in a lot of pain. His partner Donna was with him, and a district nurse. They - and almost certainly he - knew he was very close to the end, and he drifted away as peacefully as possible under the circumstances.
Donna is spending time with old friends, and us comrades are keeping a respectful distance. The funeral details haven't been finalised yet, but it'll be something as wacky, eco-friendly and fun as Dunkan himself.
The last proper conversation I had with him was after a performance of The Investigation, when the cast had a celebratory chinese resteraunt meal. I had played the slimy defence lawyer, and he was a bombastic villain.
He persuaded me to try the deep fried seaweed, and we talked for two hours, not about politics or art or acting, but about food. He'd been in the army catering core, and had picked up an endless stream of trade secrets for perparing every kind of food you could think of.
So that's my final memory of him. Slightly more eratic than usual, being on strong painkillers for as-yet undiagnosed cancer, gesticulating animatedly in between mouthfuls, describing esoteric details from one of many past trades.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment