The unpleasant spectre of Kevin Chesham has now faded entirely from our lives. His uncomfortably stiff demeanour has dissolved. Mutual acquaintances never mention him in conversation. He made no impact on their lives and certainly none on ours. We still occasionally receive material through the post with the familiar datestamp and recognisable handwriting on the envelope. These are disposed of unopened and unread in a suitable receptacle for rubbish. He still persists with uploading filched photographs with accompanying misdescriptions, falsely suggesting that I remain his friend. The truth is that Chesham lost the few friends he ever had a long time ago owing to his complete betrayal of them all. The people in photographs he has published on the internet are not his friends and have not been for quite some years owing to his own treacherous behaviour. He turned on those who had hitherto only shown him kindness and generosity, and he did so under no provocation and for no apparent reason save what lurks in the darkest recesses of his devious mind. Why does he publish images of people he describes as his "friends" when they are clearly not? It is a puerile game that he seems to take some perverse pleasure in playing. Others see it for exactly what it is. Chesham's many lies and deceitful actions have rid him of any friendship he might have once enjoyed with those he obsesses about. His motives are known to him and him alone. It has almost certainly extinguished any light in his soul. Like his ex-convict mentor and collaborator, David Farrant, whom he allied himself with in a futile attempt to cause such friends harm, Chesham has become an empty shell of a man whose void has only been filled with darkness. In hindsight he was always a wrong 'un.
My mistake was to invest such trust in so obvious a blaggard who was perhaps always destined to betray those who showed him kindness and generosity. I believe he has done it to others in the past. The scoundrels he now colludes with will discover to their cost that no honour exists in such as him.
As so many have remarked, my portrait of him reveals both the emptiness and sadness of the man; something he shares in common with the charlatan he collaborates with in an attempt to inflict harm on me and mine. The picture ceased to be exhibited as a portrait of him after his betrayal became known, but was later re-exhibited as a personal depiction of Judas, who is as close to Satan as any human being can get.
There is another abiding image of Kevin Chesham; one which he cannot deny; one bearing his humourless features with an outstretched arm, as his grave expression betrays something irrational and maniacal.
This image will remain while others of him are effaced by time. It is a portrait of hypocrisy, lies and deceit.
