Harold Pinter was her loved one, and her sad moment this:
About twenty past seven I was sitting reading Tolstoy’s Resurrection by Harold’s bedside. He was breathing but with a strong rattling sound. The nurses were outside. The children and grandchildren had dispersed for Christmas. I was alone in the room. I was happy like that. Suddenly the rattling stopped. Harold opened his black eyes very wide, almost staring, although he didn’t respond when I spoke to him as before: ‘It’s me, Antonia, who loves you.’ Then he went quite tense, his whole body. Finally he went still and silent.
I leant forward and found no breath. He looked white and dead. I sat for a while. Then I kissed him. His dear body was already quite cool. Must you go? Yes, it was time. Before I left the room, after another, last kiss, I said: ‘Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing you to your rest.’
Equal feelings enter us when the beloved is a pet.
(Quoted from page 328 of Must You Go? My Life with Harold Pinter, by Antonia Fraser. Doubleday, 2010.)
For a brief biography of Antonia Fraser, click here. For images of or relating to Antonia Fraser, click here. For a brief biography of Harold Pinter, click here. For images of or relating to Harold Pinter, click here.
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