" Climb Every Mountain!"

When the news came, there was joy in our kitchen.

When the new came, our Kelvinator fridge hummed with delight and the crisp pile of my father's freshly starched shirts gleamed with pleasure. My brother and I sat at the table eating cornflakes dotted with prunes... and suddenly, we believed life really COULD be a fairytale. Today's news finally proved it.

The Background: There was our mother, rosy faced by her whistling kettle, crimson lipped, navy and white peeptoe-shoed, her chestnut hair ( we called it the colour of gravy) fluttering around her pretty rosiness. I remember it well. It was early June and I wore a pink dress with brown smocking and I sat at the kitchen table by a window with yellow curtains and the morning was warm already.

And there, of course, was my father....brisk and smiling, smelling of soap and Players cigarettes, flannelled and tweedy jacketed. There he was, Daddy brandishing the Daily Express in nicotined stained fingers, his hair wavy, Brilliantined...

"The office" Daddy declared " The office can wait."

So old SPL ( his boss from Hell) could shout in vain. Daddy would not be there, even though SPL had tantrums, whatever they were. Tantrums made SPL lie on his office floor swigging gin and tantrums made SPL touch his secretary ( Ruth) on her bare arms ( wow!) as she took away his teacup. Ruth came for tea because my mother said she was overwrought ( about the arm touching) and Daddy said she needed the calmness of Mummy so Ruth sobbed over fairy cakes and was sick over lemon cake and had to be taken home in a taxi. Mummy said SPL should be classified ( or perhaps it was certified) and Daddy said he should be " strung up by his giblets" which painted dreadful pictures to me and my brother and believe me, I never ate lemon cake ever again and any time I've met a "Ruth", I've expected red eyes and tearfulness and a woman who needs the calmness of someone's mummy. ....

But back to our kitchen:

"Today" Daddy said"is a Moment Of History. This News should be Relished." And his voice shook with emotion. It really did and I hear it still. He cleared his throat.

"Today" said Daddy " Hillary has conquered Everest." He paused, eyes particularly blue: " But two things are special today. Hillary has conquered Everest AND Queen Elizabeth is crowned."

" What's 'conquered"?" said my brother ( we knew about "crowned" BUT "conquered"..??): " is "conquered" to do with conkers? And who is Hilary, Dad? Is it that spotty lady down Red Lion Lane who lives with fat Edgar?" (We passed Fat Edgar on our way to school. He always wanted to play "Tag" but our mother said he couldnt play "Tag"; Edgar was 57 and we should merely smile and walk on because people of 57 played games like Bridge or golf, not "Tag" in Red Lion Lane ..)

" Hillary is Edmund" said Daddy reverently " And he's reached the top of the highest mountain in the world with Sherpa Tensing. And today a new Queen is crowned..."

Sir Edmund Hillary died this week. He was a hero of my childhood and the memory of his triumph ( told at breakfast one morning in early summer) gave me a precious glimpse into my own past. Hillary conquered the highest mountain on Earth and reading reports of his life since, I see he achieved more remarkable things. He deserves to be long remembered.