The Spike

  • About
  • Style
  • Life
  • Books
  • Food
  • Beauty
  • Shop
  • Contact

Ask the Spike

Send your Question

Adrian

I had a dream about Adrian last night.

He was sitting at a large, square low table on a small chair – the sort you get in nurseries, there were lots of tables pushed together and he was surrounded by small children sitting on little chairs, too.

It was a busy scene, there were adults standing about, people moving around. The tables were covered with paper – everyone was drawing a huge picture of the sea. Adrian was painting waves, using white paint, with his finger.

“Look,” he said to a small child next to him. “See how I drag my finger with the paint like this, and then you smudge it like that, and it really looks like a wave.”

Then he sat back and clasped his hands in front of him – such a typical gesture, so Adrian – and looked down at the child next to him with kindness and amusement.

Share this:

  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)

Related

« Bloody wrapping
Dobble »

Comments

  1. The Millers Tale says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:08 am

    My deepest condolences Esther and Giles, for your loss.

    My memories of AA Gill:

    A piece he wrote where he referred to a Moscow prostitutes pudenda as being as ‘narrow as a gulag’s snout’- a brilliant piece of writing that made me both laugh and heave.

    That day in the early nineties when I took a couple of patients for a drink at one of AA Gill’s well-known haunts and I saw him sitting there.. My dining companions had AIDS and it was obvious what they were suffering from if you knew what to look for. When we went to pay the bill, it had had been settled. By him.

    Reply
  2. ionaweb says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:09 am

    How to write about the man who himself was the most eloquent and moving wordsmith?
    You cracked it, girl. X

    Reply
  3. kangaroocaith says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:11 am

    So terribly sad. So terribly sudden. A huge reminder to cherish those dear to me and stop being such a bitch to my husband.

    Reply
  4. Kristy says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:15 am

    I was never lucky enough to meet him, but I read his words with pleasure and respect wherever I’ve lived in the world – he was a constant. I felt quite grey when I heard he’d gone.

    Reply
  5. Tales from the middle ages says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:26 am

    I’m so sorry for your loss. Dream visits are a small but welcome comfort and distraction from the devastation. I lost my mum last week and am hoping for a dream visit soon x

    Reply
  6. Martha says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:29 am

    I didn’t know Adrian personally – we shared a school and he was an oft referred to ex scholar – seemed an interesting and thoughtful guy.

    Reply
  7. Christian says

    December 12, 2016 at 11:46 am

    This is beautiful.

    I regret the Sundays I missed reading the paper.

    Reply
  8. Cindy says

    December 12, 2016 at 1:52 pm

    Lovely post, Esther; a simple truthful picture of your friend, very well drawn. I would read his columns regardless of whether I cared for the subject, purely for his extraordinary writing, and his last in the Sunday Times was typically elegant.

    Reply
  9. Jan says

    December 12, 2016 at 1:54 pm

    Out of all the famous people who have sadly died this year, I will miss Adrian Gill the most. Sunday will never be the same again.

    Reply
  10. Philippa says

    December 12, 2016 at 2:13 pm

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I didn’t know him, but feel a huge sense of loss. Was sobbing reading his piece in the magazine last night. Beautiful and articulate to the end. It feels like losing a friend, unlike any of the other celebrities who 2016 has taken. Condolences to you, and the rest of his friends and family. X

    Reply
  11. Anna says

    December 12, 2016 at 2:36 pm

    It’s such sad news. I’ll think of AA Gill every time I cook a breakfast recipe from his book. Thank you for writing this.

    Reply
  12. rebeccasygm says

    December 12, 2016 at 7:09 pm

    😞 I’m deeply saddened by this. Sundays just won’t be the same x

    Reply
  13. Clare says

    December 12, 2016 at 8:05 pm

    Beautiful. The reactions from his colleagues show how well loved he was. Let us all cherish what we have, while we have it…

    Reply
  14. Linda1746 says

    December 12, 2016 at 9:30 pm

    When you’ve never met someone but feel they’re part of your life because you read their words every week. I felt like that when John Diamond died too.

    Reply
  15. Margaret McGarvey says

    December 12, 2016 at 10:08 pm

    He was The Boss The Alpha Lion amongst men The Don Corleone such wit such a master wizard of words his dagger put downs were epic and hilariously funny I’ve thought about him a lot these last few days and of course ran out to buy the Times yesterday and I devoured all the obituaries about him.. He takes his legendary rightful place among the greats and his legacy to his family – “What he wrote what he thought” there will be no other critic that beats him… go gently into that good night beautiful man you’re a loss to us all x

    Reply
  16. Rachel C says

    December 12, 2016 at 10:33 pm

    That was lovely and I am very sorry to you both for your loss xx

    Reply
  17. suzanne says

    December 13, 2016 at 2:34 pm

    So sorry for your loss. I only met him once and he was beyond charming. Sundays feel that bit bleaker without his words…. An acutely felt loss to all us avid readers. x

    Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Copyright © 2023 · Design by Gatto

  • About
  • Style
  • Life
  • Books
  • Food
  • Beauty
  • Shop
  • Contact