Not disputed is the disappearance and death of Arthur Crabtree. On the morning of his disappearance, Arthur waited in the queue of the Post Office to collect his wife’s pension. Three women vaguely remembered seeing him; they could give a description of the mild-mannered old man. He was there one minute, gone the next. The security film, time lapsed, showed Arthur the moment the women stared at him, the next frame determined he had vanished.

Bernard, his next-door neighbour, told police he had spoken to Arthur before he went into the Post Office. This was the last time he had seen him. Gillian, Arthur’s wife, telephoned the police and they came at once. Whilst reassuring her, they said he might have become forgetful and wandered off somewhere. Gillian was not convinced her beloved Arthur would do this. His mind was still good after all these years.

During the early hours of the next morning, the alarms sounded at the Post Office. The security guard immediately telephoned the police: the body of Arthur Crabtree was lying on the floor, in the exact position he had disappeared from.

Naturally, Gillian, her sons and daughters, were distressed that a beloved husband and father, grandfather, had died in this strange fashion. The police could not explain this incident and the affair quietly faded from the minds of the inquisitive. The cremation of Arthur took place and his ashes were scattered over the garden at his home.

Three months later, Gillian suffered a mild stroke. Getting out of bed, still half asleep, she heard Sinatra singing “Strangers in the Night” on the radio downstairs in the kitchen.

Arthur was sitting by the kitchen table as Gillian opened the door. He was eating a piece of toast and drinking a cup of tea. He laughed and said, “I’m sorry I’m late coming home, my dear. There was a queue at the Post Office. I put the food in the fridge.”