I am truly delighted you are enjoying this novella - posting again tomorrow.
Mad about the boy
Moderators: Janice, loucifer67, morvgal58, SeansRose, Brenna
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
Mad
Chapter 8 – part 2
Yorkshire December 1938
Summary – Christmas snow and joys
Song? Mr Sinatra and ‘Let it snow, let it snow’ sets the mood for this chapter I think…
Not true – just spinning a love story
It was a long hard drive; the weather was settling in, ominous heavy banks of clouds driven across the skies by a fierce North wind that grew bolder as the day wore on. They stopped for lunch, a meat pie and a pint each in a small, dark pub. All the conversation was about the weather. Heavy snow was forecast on the radio and by various well wrapped up old men, mumbling in country accents about the last big fall and the chaos it had caused.
Viggo, worriedly looked around as he sipped his beer and tried to find a piece of meat in his meat pie. He had hoped they would beat the snow.
‘Relax, soon be on our way again, not so far now. Stop mucking about wi’ that meat pie if you don’t want it pass it over here.’
Grateful, Viggo passed it to Sean and fascinated, watched him as he munched away with enjoyment. They filled the car up at a little garage in the village
‘Reckon this ere pump’ll be frozen by tonight’ said the owner
‘Aye feels cold enough’ replied Sean.
Viggo nudged him
‘Aye? Where does that come from?’
‘That my dear Viggo is Yorkshire for ‘yes’ we are not far away now and it is time you learnt to speak the Yorkshire dialect.’
Viggo raised his eyebrows wrapped his rug around himself and settled back in the car. ‘Crazy language, they drive on the wrong side of the road and they eat strange soggy meat pies without any meat in.’ he muttered then shook his head and blew a kiss at Sean as they set off again.
An hour later they turned off the lane and onto a gravel driveway. A lantern feebly lit the large closed gates that rattled in the wind, Sean honked the horn and out of the gatehouse came a short heavy set man
‘Now then’ he greeted them and dragged open the gates. Sean wound down the window ‘ow do Will?’
‘Fair t’middlin, fair t’middlin’ was the reply.
Sean grinned at Viggo who poked his tongue out and refused to make any comment. They drove down the long drive as the first of the snow fell. Faint lights ahead resolved into the lit windows of a substantial mansion. With a satisfying crunch on the gravel and honking the horn Sean drew up and the huge double doors opened, dogs and people came rushing out to greet them. Sean squeezed Viggo’s hand ‘Come on Vigs, meet my folks’ he whispered then climbed out of the car.
Next morning feeling warm, peaceful and well rested Viggo awoke as the maid brought in a tray with a pot of coffee. She set it down with a smile on the table by his bed and pulled open the curtains, the room filled with a cold white light.
‘Morning sir, snowed all night so it did, reet deep ‘tis now’ she knelt and poked the fire adding another log and a few more pieces of coal, then left the room.
Viggo got up, pulling on his robe and slippers. The scene from the window was of a world melted and smoothed by the snow, no sharp edges, each thing changed and softened. He smiled and turned back to the tray to pour a cup of coffee. A tap on his door then it was opened and a beloved face appeared around the corner.
‘Morning, how did you sleep?’ Sean asked
‘Fine, but missed you next to me and you?’
Sean entered the room, closing the door and turning the key. He looked debonair and rakish in a long burgundy dressing gown; he bent over the chair and pressed a soft kiss on Viggo’s lips. He winked and giggling said ‘By my watch we have at least fifteen minutes before everyone starts getting dressed and heading down for breakfast, we could of course admire the view or ...’
Later, Viggo sat with an enormous plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, kidneys, fried bread, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms in front of him. He also poked at something he wasn’t too sure he liked the look of wondering ‘Did they say it was black pudding? Isn’t pudding a sweet eaten after dinner?’ He puzzled then decided to hide the dark slices under a rather large grilled tomato. Viggo looked round the table, Sean favoured his father, Frank, as he had asked to be called; a tall slender, graceful, man, with thinning but still slightly long, floppy fair hair. He smiled occasionally over the top of his newspaper. Sean’s mother, Emily, a gentle dark haired woman watched over the table and cuddled her granddaughter, a small shy girl on her lap. Sean’s brother Mark, dark like his mother was busy serving his solemn son with more sausage.
‘Viggo’ said Sean’s sister Meg stirring her coffee ‘We must get together for a long chat later, I would love to hear all about the Argentine’ she smiled as Viggo nodded, Sean prodded him and smiling said ‘Ha, she’ll give you no rest until she knows everything about you – curious is our Megs’
‘Mr Mortensen is it true what Uncle Sean said, that you lick labels and stick them on tins of corned beef for a living?’ asked the little boy. Amidst the laughter breakfast ended.
The research and development section of the family aircraft design business was housed in what had once been a vast barn. Drawing boards, tables full of papers, models of aircraft, and large pieces of what looked like engine parts leant against walls. A cluttered office occupied one corner of the barn and after showing them around Frank Bean disappeared into his office.
‘Wow, this is really something’ said Viggo looking around.
‘Yes, my father has a genius for understanding how planes fit together and fly, I love working with him and Mark enjoys taking care of the business side. A real family company, even Megs used to keep the books. You know she wants to vet you this afternoon? To make sure you are good enough for her little baby brother?’
Viggo rolled his eyes ‘What do you think?’
‘You’ll do, you’ll do just fine’ replied Sean blowing a tiny hidden kiss.
Chapter 9 Part 2
Yorkshire Christmas 1938
Music? Vienna Boys Choir: ‘Still, Still weil's Kindlein schlafen... ‘
Not true – just spinning a love story
That afternoon, in a small sitting room lit by firelight Viggo and Meg sat drinking tea and eating tiny sandwiches. ‘So far I like you Viggo and I have never seen Sean look happier and yes, to a degree I am on your side. I can imagine how hard it must be and I am sure you think it is none of my business.’ She paused and looked fiercely into his face continuing ‘But, if you hurt Sean or behave in a careless manner which could bring disgrace on him, Mum, Dad and the rest of us, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I do understand Meg but the last thing I want is to hurt anyone and that includes my parents and myself. I simply want you to know that Sean will always be my beloved, no matter what. Also, believe me I have learned how to be discrete’
‘Good, that’s out the way then. Well, are you ready to try these cakes? They are a Yorkshire speciality called ‘Fat rascals’.
‘What is it with food names in England’ wondered Viggo as he bit into a delicious fruit and nut filled cake.
The next day, Christmas Eve, the tree was brought in and trimmed, Meg’s fiancé Alan arrived and Viggo smiled to see the strong, forthright Meg blush and melt into his arms.
It snowed all day and by late afternoon they were truly snowbound, not even a visit to the midnight service at the local church was possible. After supper Sean’s mother sat down at the piano and started to play, they gathered round and sang carols. At the end of the evening Frank wound up the gramophone
‘A silly little tradition Viggo, Alan but on Christmas Eve we always play my favourite carol, it is called ‘Still, Still, Still’ and is sung in German, it means near enough the same as in English ‘Still, quiet, peaceful, calm.’ I bought it several years ago when I was over in Germany, I made a lot of friends there but now... his voice trailed off then swallowing hard he raised his glass, ‘Merry Christmas to us all and also to next Christmas, may we all be gathered again in peace.’
Divine music and the young voices filled the room but outside the north wind still blew and the snow still raged.
The snow finally relented a little and they were able to make it back to London in time for New Years Eve. Merry with good food and champagne they joined the revellers in Trafalgar Square. Pushed close together by the press of people they sought each others hands and listened as Big Ben stroked the sounds of the New Year across the city and country.
They cheered and hugged ‘Beginning of forever for us’ whispered Viggo ‘Aye, us forever’ replied Sean ‘Good bye to 1938 and a hearty welcome to 1939.’
Chapter 10 Part 2
Summary – Good bye England
Hello New York January 1939
Not true – just spinning a love story
Music? “I’ll see you again” sung by Nelson Eddy I believe he recorded this song 1940
Southampton docks early morning January 5th 1939
Reversing the joyous journey of December they drove down to Southampton. The sky was bleak and the land still deathly cold. A fine mist hugged the hedges and the shivering fields awaited the touch of spring warmth. Their conversation was stilted, too much to be said in mere words. In a world dissolving into war they would be too far apart to plan another visit.
‘We’ve half an hour to spare let’s stop and get some tea or coffee, warm us up a bit’ said Sean as he pulled into the lorry crowded car park of a brightly lit cafe. Warmth, steam and the savoury smell of bacon wafted enticingly around them. Viggo smiled as he saw the ubiquitous bottle of Camp coffee on the counter. He thought how he would miss foolish things like that.
They found a table in the corner and sat sipping their coffee in silence
Suddenly Sean leant forward ‘Viggo when you go home, your parents are going to want you to settle down, get married. Please find a lovely dark eyed, tango dancing woman, fall madly in love with her, marry her and have loads of wonderful children and I can be their crazy English uncle who visits occasionally.’
Furious Viggo hissed back ‘Are you out of your mind? It is you I love, how dare you suggest such things. Is that what you think of us, of me? That I can simply fall in love just like that? He snapped his fingers ‘To please my parents? ‘What about us?’
Sean smiled sadly ‘Viggo we will be continents and oceans apart. I will be joining up and soon we are going to be at war, you know it is true. Hitler will push and push and instead of our shameful betrayal as happened last year to the Czech people, we will have to honour our treaties and obligations. We will have to stand and fight. It is not your fight, go home to peace and plenty, we will write, we will always be in each other’s thoughts. It may be a long while until we can see each other again but we have enough love and memories between us to see us through, come what may.’
Viggo stayed silent he knew this was going to be a long and perish the thought, maybe a final farewell but never would his heart accept it. He would hold to the hope of meeting again, free to be together, to live each day edged with the gold of their love. On the quay, time was now counted in minutes and seconds. Manly hug and pats on the back as they held each other tightly, letting their hearts beat in unison one more time.
‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’* whispered that deep magic voice as Sean pressed a tiny hidden kiss to Viggo’s neck.
‘Cuidese, te amo para siempre’* Viggo’s lips ghosted across Sean’s soft, trembling mouth as they parted.
Viggo watched from the deck leaning over as the tugs urged the liner gently out into deep water, a rare softening in the mist allowed a little glimpse of the sun to filter through. He waved to the slender lone figure, and could just see a long wave back, then for a second, the fragile light caught Sean and Viggo saw the faint trace of gold around his lover’s fair hair.Soon all was lost in the mist and had become the past.
Ten days later in New York; Viggo was leaving to fly to Buenos Aires,
later in the afternoon. However, first he was going to have lunch with David and catch up on his news. They talked about England, they laughed over Viggo’s jokes about the strange names for food and especially Camp coffee. He even confessed to David that he had bought and hidden a bottle in his luggage.
‘A souvenir’ he started to joke but then swallowed his pain and fell silent for a moment before he continued ‘If war comes how can we even stay in touch by letter?’ he shook his head, despair threatening to overwhelm him.
David spoke softly ‘Viggo, send any letters or packages to me at my New York address, I have ways of making sure they will reach England even if things become ... difficult shall we say? I will get in contact with Sean as well and give him a name and telephone number. If the worst happens he will still be able to get letters through to you via my contacts’. It was little enough but Viggo was comforted by David’s kindness and understanding.
He had written a long letter on board ship, to the casual glance a simple account to a friend of sea voyage, yet hidden in such phrases as ‘wish you could have been beside me and seen the beautiful sunset, felt the warm breeze...’ was a wealth of love and yearning. Childishly, he had pressed his lips to the casual good bye ‘Hope to see you soon down our way, all the best ...’ he hoped Sean would understand and garner the hidden kisses.
tbc
*‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’ Go with God my love
* Cuidese, te amo para siempre’ Take care, I will love you forever.
Yorkshire December 1938
Summary – Christmas snow and joys
Song? Mr Sinatra and ‘Let it snow, let it snow’ sets the mood for this chapter I think…
Not true – just spinning a love story
It was a long hard drive; the weather was settling in, ominous heavy banks of clouds driven across the skies by a fierce North wind that grew bolder as the day wore on. They stopped for lunch, a meat pie and a pint each in a small, dark pub. All the conversation was about the weather. Heavy snow was forecast on the radio and by various well wrapped up old men, mumbling in country accents about the last big fall and the chaos it had caused.
Viggo, worriedly looked around as he sipped his beer and tried to find a piece of meat in his meat pie. He had hoped they would beat the snow.
‘Relax, soon be on our way again, not so far now. Stop mucking about wi’ that meat pie if you don’t want it pass it over here.’
Grateful, Viggo passed it to Sean and fascinated, watched him as he munched away with enjoyment. They filled the car up at a little garage in the village
‘Reckon this ere pump’ll be frozen by tonight’ said the owner
‘Aye feels cold enough’ replied Sean.
Viggo nudged him
‘Aye? Where does that come from?’
‘That my dear Viggo is Yorkshire for ‘yes’ we are not far away now and it is time you learnt to speak the Yorkshire dialect.’
Viggo raised his eyebrows wrapped his rug around himself and settled back in the car. ‘Crazy language, they drive on the wrong side of the road and they eat strange soggy meat pies without any meat in.’ he muttered then shook his head and blew a kiss at Sean as they set off again.
An hour later they turned off the lane and onto a gravel driveway. A lantern feebly lit the large closed gates that rattled in the wind, Sean honked the horn and out of the gatehouse came a short heavy set man
‘Now then’ he greeted them and dragged open the gates. Sean wound down the window ‘ow do Will?’
‘Fair t’middlin, fair t’middlin’ was the reply.
Sean grinned at Viggo who poked his tongue out and refused to make any comment. They drove down the long drive as the first of the snow fell. Faint lights ahead resolved into the lit windows of a substantial mansion. With a satisfying crunch on the gravel and honking the horn Sean drew up and the huge double doors opened, dogs and people came rushing out to greet them. Sean squeezed Viggo’s hand ‘Come on Vigs, meet my folks’ he whispered then climbed out of the car.
Next morning feeling warm, peaceful and well rested Viggo awoke as the maid brought in a tray with a pot of coffee. She set it down with a smile on the table by his bed and pulled open the curtains, the room filled with a cold white light.
‘Morning sir, snowed all night so it did, reet deep ‘tis now’ she knelt and poked the fire adding another log and a few more pieces of coal, then left the room.
Viggo got up, pulling on his robe and slippers. The scene from the window was of a world melted and smoothed by the snow, no sharp edges, each thing changed and softened. He smiled and turned back to the tray to pour a cup of coffee. A tap on his door then it was opened and a beloved face appeared around the corner.
‘Morning, how did you sleep?’ Sean asked
‘Fine, but missed you next to me and you?’
Sean entered the room, closing the door and turning the key. He looked debonair and rakish in a long burgundy dressing gown; he bent over the chair and pressed a soft kiss on Viggo’s lips. He winked and giggling said ‘By my watch we have at least fifteen minutes before everyone starts getting dressed and heading down for breakfast, we could of course admire the view or ...’
Later, Viggo sat with an enormous plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, kidneys, fried bread, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms in front of him. He also poked at something he wasn’t too sure he liked the look of wondering ‘Did they say it was black pudding? Isn’t pudding a sweet eaten after dinner?’ He puzzled then decided to hide the dark slices under a rather large grilled tomato. Viggo looked round the table, Sean favoured his father, Frank, as he had asked to be called; a tall slender, graceful, man, with thinning but still slightly long, floppy fair hair. He smiled occasionally over the top of his newspaper. Sean’s mother, Emily, a gentle dark haired woman watched over the table and cuddled her granddaughter, a small shy girl on her lap. Sean’s brother Mark, dark like his mother was busy serving his solemn son with more sausage.
‘Viggo’ said Sean’s sister Meg stirring her coffee ‘We must get together for a long chat later, I would love to hear all about the Argentine’ she smiled as Viggo nodded, Sean prodded him and smiling said ‘Ha, she’ll give you no rest until she knows everything about you – curious is our Megs’
‘Mr Mortensen is it true what Uncle Sean said, that you lick labels and stick them on tins of corned beef for a living?’ asked the little boy. Amidst the laughter breakfast ended.
The research and development section of the family aircraft design business was housed in what had once been a vast barn. Drawing boards, tables full of papers, models of aircraft, and large pieces of what looked like engine parts leant against walls. A cluttered office occupied one corner of the barn and after showing them around Frank Bean disappeared into his office.
‘Wow, this is really something’ said Viggo looking around.
‘Yes, my father has a genius for understanding how planes fit together and fly, I love working with him and Mark enjoys taking care of the business side. A real family company, even Megs used to keep the books. You know she wants to vet you this afternoon? To make sure you are good enough for her little baby brother?’
Viggo rolled his eyes ‘What do you think?’
‘You’ll do, you’ll do just fine’ replied Sean blowing a tiny hidden kiss.
Chapter 9 Part 2
Yorkshire Christmas 1938
Music? Vienna Boys Choir: ‘Still, Still weil's Kindlein schlafen... ‘
Not true – just spinning a love story
That afternoon, in a small sitting room lit by firelight Viggo and Meg sat drinking tea and eating tiny sandwiches. ‘So far I like you Viggo and I have never seen Sean look happier and yes, to a degree I am on your side. I can imagine how hard it must be and I am sure you think it is none of my business.’ She paused and looked fiercely into his face continuing ‘But, if you hurt Sean or behave in a careless manner which could bring disgrace on him, Mum, Dad and the rest of us, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I do understand Meg but the last thing I want is to hurt anyone and that includes my parents and myself. I simply want you to know that Sean will always be my beloved, no matter what. Also, believe me I have learned how to be discrete’
‘Good, that’s out the way then. Well, are you ready to try these cakes? They are a Yorkshire speciality called ‘Fat rascals’.
‘What is it with food names in England’ wondered Viggo as he bit into a delicious fruit and nut filled cake.
The next day, Christmas Eve, the tree was brought in and trimmed, Meg’s fiancé Alan arrived and Viggo smiled to see the strong, forthright Meg blush and melt into his arms.
It snowed all day and by late afternoon they were truly snowbound, not even a visit to the midnight service at the local church was possible. After supper Sean’s mother sat down at the piano and started to play, they gathered round and sang carols. At the end of the evening Frank wound up the gramophone
‘A silly little tradition Viggo, Alan but on Christmas Eve we always play my favourite carol, it is called ‘Still, Still, Still’ and is sung in German, it means near enough the same as in English ‘Still, quiet, peaceful, calm.’ I bought it several years ago when I was over in Germany, I made a lot of friends there but now... his voice trailed off then swallowing hard he raised his glass, ‘Merry Christmas to us all and also to next Christmas, may we all be gathered again in peace.’
Divine music and the young voices filled the room but outside the north wind still blew and the snow still raged.
The snow finally relented a little and they were able to make it back to London in time for New Years Eve. Merry with good food and champagne they joined the revellers in Trafalgar Square. Pushed close together by the press of people they sought each others hands and listened as Big Ben stroked the sounds of the New Year across the city and country.
They cheered and hugged ‘Beginning of forever for us’ whispered Viggo ‘Aye, us forever’ replied Sean ‘Good bye to 1938 and a hearty welcome to 1939.’
Chapter 10 Part 2
Summary – Good bye England
Hello New York January 1939
Not true – just spinning a love story
Music? “I’ll see you again” sung by Nelson Eddy I believe he recorded this song 1940
Southampton docks early morning January 5th 1939
Reversing the joyous journey of December they drove down to Southampton. The sky was bleak and the land still deathly cold. A fine mist hugged the hedges and the shivering fields awaited the touch of spring warmth. Their conversation was stilted, too much to be said in mere words. In a world dissolving into war they would be too far apart to plan another visit.
‘We’ve half an hour to spare let’s stop and get some tea or coffee, warm us up a bit’ said Sean as he pulled into the lorry crowded car park of a brightly lit cafe. Warmth, steam and the savoury smell of bacon wafted enticingly around them. Viggo smiled as he saw the ubiquitous bottle of Camp coffee on the counter. He thought how he would miss foolish things like that.
They found a table in the corner and sat sipping their coffee in silence
Suddenly Sean leant forward ‘Viggo when you go home, your parents are going to want you to settle down, get married. Please find a lovely dark eyed, tango dancing woman, fall madly in love with her, marry her and have loads of wonderful children and I can be their crazy English uncle who visits occasionally.’
Furious Viggo hissed back ‘Are you out of your mind? It is you I love, how dare you suggest such things. Is that what you think of us, of me? That I can simply fall in love just like that? He snapped his fingers ‘To please my parents? ‘What about us?’
Sean smiled sadly ‘Viggo we will be continents and oceans apart. I will be joining up and soon we are going to be at war, you know it is true. Hitler will push and push and instead of our shameful betrayal as happened last year to the Czech people, we will have to honour our treaties and obligations. We will have to stand and fight. It is not your fight, go home to peace and plenty, we will write, we will always be in each other’s thoughts. It may be a long while until we can see each other again but we have enough love and memories between us to see us through, come what may.’
Viggo stayed silent he knew this was going to be a long and perish the thought, maybe a final farewell but never would his heart accept it. He would hold to the hope of meeting again, free to be together, to live each day edged with the gold of their love. On the quay, time was now counted in minutes and seconds. Manly hug and pats on the back as they held each other tightly, letting their hearts beat in unison one more time.
‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’* whispered that deep magic voice as Sean pressed a tiny hidden kiss to Viggo’s neck.
‘Cuidese, te amo para siempre’* Viggo’s lips ghosted across Sean’s soft, trembling mouth as they parted.
Viggo watched from the deck leaning over as the tugs urged the liner gently out into deep water, a rare softening in the mist allowed a little glimpse of the sun to filter through. He waved to the slender lone figure, and could just see a long wave back, then for a second, the fragile light caught Sean and Viggo saw the faint trace of gold around his lover’s fair hair.Soon all was lost in the mist and had become the past.
Ten days later in New York; Viggo was leaving to fly to Buenos Aires,
later in the afternoon. However, first he was going to have lunch with David and catch up on his news. They talked about England, they laughed over Viggo’s jokes about the strange names for food and especially Camp coffee. He even confessed to David that he had bought and hidden a bottle in his luggage.
‘A souvenir’ he started to joke but then swallowed his pain and fell silent for a moment before he continued ‘If war comes how can we even stay in touch by letter?’ he shook his head, despair threatening to overwhelm him.
David spoke softly ‘Viggo, send any letters or packages to me at my New York address, I have ways of making sure they will reach England even if things become ... difficult shall we say? I will get in contact with Sean as well and give him a name and telephone number. If the worst happens he will still be able to get letters through to you via my contacts’. It was little enough but Viggo was comforted by David’s kindness and understanding.
He had written a long letter on board ship, to the casual glance a simple account to a friend of sea voyage, yet hidden in such phrases as ‘wish you could have been beside me and seen the beautiful sunset, felt the warm breeze...’ was a wealth of love and yearning. Childishly, he had pressed his lips to the casual good bye ‘Hope to see you soon down our way, all the best ...’ he hoped Sean would understand and garner the hidden kisses.
tbc
*‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’ Go with God my love
* Cuidese, te amo para siempre’ Take care, I will love you forever.
-
Way2prickly
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2185
- Joined: Thu Jan 22, 2009 6:27 pm
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
Bless xxx-
loucifer67
- Site Admin
- Posts: 2030
- Joined: Mon Jul 11, 2011 4:02 pm
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
Sorry for delay in posting
Chapter 8 – part 2
Yorkshire December 1938
Summary – Christmas snow and joys
Song? Mr Sinatra and ‘Let it snow, let it snow’ sets the mood for this chapter I think…
Not true – just spinning a love story
It was a long hard drive; the weather was settling in, ominous heavy banks of clouds driven across the skies by a fierce North wind that grew bolder as the day wore on. They stopped for lunch, a meat pie and a pint each in a small, dark pub. All the conversation was about the weather. Heavy snow was forecast on the radio and by various well wrapped up old men, mumbling in country accents about the last big fall and the chaos it had caused.
Viggo, worriedly looked around as he sipped his beer and tried to find a piece of meat in his meat pie. He had hoped they would beat the snow.
‘Relax, soon be on our way again, not so far now. Stop mucking about wi’ that meat pie if you don’t want it pass it over here.’
Grateful, Viggo passed it to Sean and fascinated, watched him as he munched away with enjoyment. They filled the car up at a little garage in the village
‘Reckon this ere pump’ll be frozen by tonight’ said the owner
‘Aye feels cold enough’ replied Sean.
Viggo nudged him
‘Aye? Where does that come from?’
‘That my dear Viggo is Yorkshire for ‘yes’ we are not far away now and it is time you learnt to speak the Yorkshire dialect.’
Viggo raised his eyebrows wrapped his rug around himself and settled back in the car. ‘Crazy language, they drive on the wrong side of the road and they eat strange soggy meat pies without any meat in.’ he muttered then shook his head and blew a kiss at Sean as they set off again.
An hour later they turned off the lane and onto a gravel driveway. A lantern feebly lit the large closed gates that rattled in the wind, Sean honked the horn and out of the gatehouse came a short heavy set man
‘Now then’ he greeted them and dragged open the gates. Sean wound down the window ‘ow do Will?’
‘Fair t’middlin, fair t’middlin’ was the reply.
Sean grinned at Viggo who poked his tongue out and refused to make any comment. They drove down the long drive as the first of the snow fell. Faint lights ahead resolved into the lit windows of a substantial mansion. With a satisfying crunch on the gravel and honking the horn Sean drew up and the huge double doors opened, dogs and people came rushing out to greet them. Sean squeezed Viggo’s hand ‘Come on Vigs, meet my folks’ he whispered then climbed out of the car.
Next morning feeling warm, peaceful and well rested Viggo awoke as the maid brought in a tray with a pot of coffee. She set it down with a smile on the table by his bed and pulled open the curtains, the room filled with a cold white light.
‘Morning sir, snowed all night so it did, reet deep ‘tis now’ she knelt and poked the fire adding another log and a few more pieces of coal, then left the room.
Viggo got up, pulling on his robe and slippers. The scene from the window was of a world melted and smoothed by the snow, no sharp edges, each thing changed and softened. He smiled and turned back to the tray to pour a cup of coffee. A tap on his door then it was opened and a beloved face appeared around the corner.
‘Morning, how did you sleep?’ Sean asked
‘Fine, but missed you next to me and you?’
Sean entered the room, closing the door and turning the key. He looked debonair and rakish in a long burgundy dressing gown; he bent over the chair and pressed a soft kiss on Viggo’s lips. He winked and giggling said ‘By my watch we have at least fifteen minutes before everyone starts getting dressed and heading down for breakfast, we could of course admire the view or ...’
Later, Viggo sat with an enormous plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, kidneys, fried bread, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms in front of him. He also poked at something he wasn’t too sure he liked the look of wondering ‘Did they say it was black pudding? Isn’t pudding a sweet eaten after dinner?’ He puzzled then decided to hide the dark slices under a rather large grilled tomato. Viggo looked round the table, Sean favoured his father, Frank, as he had asked to be called; a tall slender, graceful, man, with thinning but still slightly long, floppy fair hair. He smiled occasionally over the top of his newspaper. Sean’s mother, Emily, a gentle dark haired woman watched over the table and cuddled her granddaughter, a small shy girl on her lap. Sean’s brother Mark, dark like his mother was busy serving his solemn son with more sausage.
‘Viggo’ said Sean’s sister Meg stirring her coffee ‘We must get together for a long chat later, I would love to hear all about the Argentine’ she smiled as Viggo nodded, Sean prodded him and smiling said ‘Ha, she’ll give you no rest until she knows everything about you – curious is our Megs’
‘Mr Mortensen is it true what Uncle Sean said, that you lick labels and stick them on tins of corned beef for a living?’ asked the little boy. Amidst the laughter breakfast ended.
The research and development section of the family aircraft design business was housed in what had once been a vast barn. Drawing boards, tables full of papers, models of aircraft, and large pieces of what looked like engine parts leant against walls. A cluttered office occupied one corner of the barn and after showing them around Frank Bean disappeared into his office.
‘Wow, this is really something’ said Viggo looking around.
‘Yes, my father has a genius for understanding how planes fit together and fly, I love working with him and Mark enjoys taking care of the business side. A real family company, even Megs used to keep the books. You know she wants to vet you this afternoon? To make sure you are good enough for her little baby brother?’
Viggo rolled his eyes ‘What do you think?’
‘You’ll do, you’ll do just fine’ replied Sean blowing a tiny hidden kiss.
Chapter 9 Part 2
Yorkshire Christmas 1938
Music? Vienna Boys Choir: ‘Still, Still weil's Kindlein schlafen... ‘
Not true – just spinning a love story
That afternoon, in a small sitting room lit by firelight Viggo and Meg sat drinking tea and eating tiny sandwiches. ‘So far I like you Viggo and I have never seen Sean look happier and yes, to a degree I am on your side. I can imagine how hard it must be and I am sure you think it is none of my business.’ She paused and looked fiercely into his face continuing ‘But, if you hurt Sean or behave in a careless manner which could bring disgrace on him, Mum, Dad and the rest of us, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I do understand Meg but the last thing I want is to hurt anyone and that includes my parents and myself. I simply want you to know that Sean will always be my beloved, no matter what. Also, believe me I have learned how to be discrete’
‘Good, that’s out the way then. Well, are you ready to try these cakes? They are a Yorkshire speciality called ‘Fat rascals’.
‘What is it with food names in England’ wondered Viggo as he bit into a delicious fruit and nut filled cake.
The next day, Christmas Eve, the tree was brought in and trimmed, Meg’s fiancé Alan arrived and Viggo smiled to see the strong, forthright Meg blush and melt into his arms.
It snowed all day and by late afternoon they were truly snowbound, not even a visit to the midnight service at the local church was possible. After supper Sean’s mother sat down at the piano and started to play, they gathered round and sang carols. At the end of the evening Frank wound up the gramophone
‘A silly little tradition Viggo, Alan but on Christmas Eve we always play my favourite carol, it is called ‘Still, Still, Still’ and is sung in German, it means near enough the same as in English ‘Still, quiet, peaceful, calm.’ I bought it several years ago when I was over in Germany, I made a lot of friends there but now... his voice trailed off then swallowing hard he raised his glass, ‘Merry Christmas to us all and also to next Christmas, may we all be gathered again in peace.’
Divine music and the young voices filled the room but outside the north wind still blew and the snow still raged.
The snow finally relented a little and they were able to make it back to London in time for New Years Eve. Merry with good food and champagne they joined the revellers in Trafalgar Square. Pushed close together by the press of people they sought each others hands and listened as Big Ben stroked the sounds of the New Year across the city and country.
They cheered and hugged ‘Beginning of forever for us’ whispered Viggo ‘Aye, us forever’ replied Sean ‘Good bye to 1938 and a hearty welcome to 1939.’
Chapter 10 Part 2
Summary – Good bye England
Hello New York January 1939
Not true – just spinning a love story
Music? “I’ll see you again” sung by Nelson Eddy I believe he recorded this song 1940
Southampton docks early morning January 5th 1939
Reversing the joyous journey of December they drove down to Southampton. The sky was bleak and the land still deathly cold. A fine mist hugged the hedges and the shivering fields awaited the touch of spring warmth. Their conversation was stilted, too much to be said in mere words. In a world dissolving into war they would be too far apart to plan another visit.
‘We’ve half an hour to spare let’s stop and get some tea or coffee, warm us up a bit’ said Sean as he pulled into the lorry crowded car park of a brightly lit cafe. Warmth, steam and the savoury smell of bacon wafted enticingly around them. Viggo smiled as he saw the ubiquitous bottle of Camp coffee on the counter. He thought how he would miss foolish things like that.
They found a table in the corner and sat sipping their coffee in silence
Suddenly Sean leant forward ‘Viggo when you go home, your parents are going to want you to settle down, get married. Please find a lovely dark eyed, tango dancing woman, fall madly in love with her, marry her and have loads of wonderful children and I can be their crazy English uncle who visits occasionally.’
Furious Viggo hissed back ‘Are you out of your mind? It is you I love, how dare you suggest such things. Is that what you think of us, of me? That I can simply fall in love just like that? He snapped his fingers ‘To please my parents? ‘What about us?’
Sean smiled sadly ‘Viggo we will be continents and oceans apart. I will be joining up and soon we are going to be at war, you know it is true. Hitler will push and push and instead of our shameful betrayal as happened last year to the Czech people, we will have to honour our treaties and obligations. We will have to stand and fight. It is not your fight, go home to peace and plenty, we will write, we will always be in each other’s thoughts. It may be a long while until we can see each other again but we have enough love and memories between us to see us through, come what may.’
Viggo stayed silent he knew this was going to be a long and perish the thought, maybe a final farewell but never would his heart accept it. He would hold to the hope of meeting again, free to be together, to live each day edged with the gold of their love. On the quay, time was now counted in minutes and seconds. Manly hug and pats on the back as they held each other tightly, letting their hearts beat in unison one more time.
‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’* whispered that deep magic voice as Sean pressed a tiny hidden kiss to Viggo’s neck.
‘Cuidese, te amo para siempre’* Viggo’s lips ghosted across Sean’s soft, trembling mouth as they parted.
Viggo watched from the deck leaning over as the tugs urged the liner gently out into deep water, a rare softening in the mist allowed a little glimpse of the sun to filter through. He waved to the slender lone figure, and could just see a long wave back, then for a second, the fragile light caught Sean and Viggo saw the faint trace of gold around his lover’s fair hair. Soon all was lost in the mist and had become the past.
Ten days later in New York; Viggo was leaving to fly to Buenos Aires,
later in the afternoon. However, first he was going to have lunch with David and catch up on his news. They talked about England, they laughed over Viggo’s jokes about the strange names for food and especially Camp coffee. He even confessed to David that he had bought and hidden a bottle in his luggage.
‘A souvenir’ he started to joke but then swallowed his pain and fell silent for a moment before he continued ‘If war comes how can we even stay in touch by letter?’ he shook his head, despair threatening to overwhelm him.
David spoke softly ‘Viggo, send any letters or packages to me at my New York address, I have ways of making sure they will reach England even if things become ... difficult shall we say? I will get in contact with Sean as well and give him a name and telephone number. If the worst happens he will still be able to get letters through to you via my contacts’. It was little enough but Viggo was comforted by David’s kindness and understanding.
He had written a long letter on board ship, to the casual glance a simple account to a friend of sea voyage, yet hidden in such phrases as ‘wish you could have been beside me and seen the beautiful sunset, felt the warm breeze...’ was a wealth of love and yearning. Childishly, he had pressed his lips to the casual good bye ‘Hope to see you soon down our way, all the best ...’ he hoped Sean would understand and garner the hidden kisses.
tbc
*‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’ Go with God my love
* Cuidese, te amo para siempre’ Take care, I will love you forever.
Chapter 8 – part 2
Yorkshire December 1938
Summary – Christmas snow and joys
Song? Mr Sinatra and ‘Let it snow, let it snow’ sets the mood for this chapter I think…
Not true – just spinning a love story
It was a long hard drive; the weather was settling in, ominous heavy banks of clouds driven across the skies by a fierce North wind that grew bolder as the day wore on. They stopped for lunch, a meat pie and a pint each in a small, dark pub. All the conversation was about the weather. Heavy snow was forecast on the radio and by various well wrapped up old men, mumbling in country accents about the last big fall and the chaos it had caused.
Viggo, worriedly looked around as he sipped his beer and tried to find a piece of meat in his meat pie. He had hoped they would beat the snow.
‘Relax, soon be on our way again, not so far now. Stop mucking about wi’ that meat pie if you don’t want it pass it over here.’
Grateful, Viggo passed it to Sean and fascinated, watched him as he munched away with enjoyment. They filled the car up at a little garage in the village
‘Reckon this ere pump’ll be frozen by tonight’ said the owner
‘Aye feels cold enough’ replied Sean.
Viggo nudged him
‘Aye? Where does that come from?’
‘That my dear Viggo is Yorkshire for ‘yes’ we are not far away now and it is time you learnt to speak the Yorkshire dialect.’
Viggo raised his eyebrows wrapped his rug around himself and settled back in the car. ‘Crazy language, they drive on the wrong side of the road and they eat strange soggy meat pies without any meat in.’ he muttered then shook his head and blew a kiss at Sean as they set off again.
An hour later they turned off the lane and onto a gravel driveway. A lantern feebly lit the large closed gates that rattled in the wind, Sean honked the horn and out of the gatehouse came a short heavy set man
‘Now then’ he greeted them and dragged open the gates. Sean wound down the window ‘ow do Will?’
‘Fair t’middlin, fair t’middlin’ was the reply.
Sean grinned at Viggo who poked his tongue out and refused to make any comment. They drove down the long drive as the first of the snow fell. Faint lights ahead resolved into the lit windows of a substantial mansion. With a satisfying crunch on the gravel and honking the horn Sean drew up and the huge double doors opened, dogs and people came rushing out to greet them. Sean squeezed Viggo’s hand ‘Come on Vigs, meet my folks’ he whispered then climbed out of the car.
Next morning feeling warm, peaceful and well rested Viggo awoke as the maid brought in a tray with a pot of coffee. She set it down with a smile on the table by his bed and pulled open the curtains, the room filled with a cold white light.
‘Morning sir, snowed all night so it did, reet deep ‘tis now’ she knelt and poked the fire adding another log and a few more pieces of coal, then left the room.
Viggo got up, pulling on his robe and slippers. The scene from the window was of a world melted and smoothed by the snow, no sharp edges, each thing changed and softened. He smiled and turned back to the tray to pour a cup of coffee. A tap on his door then it was opened and a beloved face appeared around the corner.
‘Morning, how did you sleep?’ Sean asked
‘Fine, but missed you next to me and you?’
Sean entered the room, closing the door and turning the key. He looked debonair and rakish in a long burgundy dressing gown; he bent over the chair and pressed a soft kiss on Viggo’s lips. He winked and giggling said ‘By my watch we have at least fifteen minutes before everyone starts getting dressed and heading down for breakfast, we could of course admire the view or ...’
Later, Viggo sat with an enormous plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, kidneys, fried bread, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms in front of him. He also poked at something he wasn’t too sure he liked the look of wondering ‘Did they say it was black pudding? Isn’t pudding a sweet eaten after dinner?’ He puzzled then decided to hide the dark slices under a rather large grilled tomato. Viggo looked round the table, Sean favoured his father, Frank, as he had asked to be called; a tall slender, graceful, man, with thinning but still slightly long, floppy fair hair. He smiled occasionally over the top of his newspaper. Sean’s mother, Emily, a gentle dark haired woman watched over the table and cuddled her granddaughter, a small shy girl on her lap. Sean’s brother Mark, dark like his mother was busy serving his solemn son with more sausage.
‘Viggo’ said Sean’s sister Meg stirring her coffee ‘We must get together for a long chat later, I would love to hear all about the Argentine’ she smiled as Viggo nodded, Sean prodded him and smiling said ‘Ha, she’ll give you no rest until she knows everything about you – curious is our Megs’
‘Mr Mortensen is it true what Uncle Sean said, that you lick labels and stick them on tins of corned beef for a living?’ asked the little boy. Amidst the laughter breakfast ended.
The research and development section of the family aircraft design business was housed in what had once been a vast barn. Drawing boards, tables full of papers, models of aircraft, and large pieces of what looked like engine parts leant against walls. A cluttered office occupied one corner of the barn and after showing them around Frank Bean disappeared into his office.
‘Wow, this is really something’ said Viggo looking around.
‘Yes, my father has a genius for understanding how planes fit together and fly, I love working with him and Mark enjoys taking care of the business side. A real family company, even Megs used to keep the books. You know she wants to vet you this afternoon? To make sure you are good enough for her little baby brother?’
Viggo rolled his eyes ‘What do you think?’
‘You’ll do, you’ll do just fine’ replied Sean blowing a tiny hidden kiss.
Chapter 9 Part 2
Yorkshire Christmas 1938
Music? Vienna Boys Choir: ‘Still, Still weil's Kindlein schlafen... ‘
Not true – just spinning a love story
That afternoon, in a small sitting room lit by firelight Viggo and Meg sat drinking tea and eating tiny sandwiches. ‘So far I like you Viggo and I have never seen Sean look happier and yes, to a degree I am on your side. I can imagine how hard it must be and I am sure you think it is none of my business.’ She paused and looked fiercely into his face continuing ‘But, if you hurt Sean or behave in a careless manner which could bring disgrace on him, Mum, Dad and the rest of us, I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, I do understand Meg but the last thing I want is to hurt anyone and that includes my parents and myself. I simply want you to know that Sean will always be my beloved, no matter what. Also, believe me I have learned how to be discrete’
‘Good, that’s out the way then. Well, are you ready to try these cakes? They are a Yorkshire speciality called ‘Fat rascals’.
‘What is it with food names in England’ wondered Viggo as he bit into a delicious fruit and nut filled cake.
The next day, Christmas Eve, the tree was brought in and trimmed, Meg’s fiancé Alan arrived and Viggo smiled to see the strong, forthright Meg blush and melt into his arms.
It snowed all day and by late afternoon they were truly snowbound, not even a visit to the midnight service at the local church was possible. After supper Sean’s mother sat down at the piano and started to play, they gathered round and sang carols. At the end of the evening Frank wound up the gramophone
‘A silly little tradition Viggo, Alan but on Christmas Eve we always play my favourite carol, it is called ‘Still, Still, Still’ and is sung in German, it means near enough the same as in English ‘Still, quiet, peaceful, calm.’ I bought it several years ago when I was over in Germany, I made a lot of friends there but now... his voice trailed off then swallowing hard he raised his glass, ‘Merry Christmas to us all and also to next Christmas, may we all be gathered again in peace.’
Divine music and the young voices filled the room but outside the north wind still blew and the snow still raged.
The snow finally relented a little and they were able to make it back to London in time for New Years Eve. Merry with good food and champagne they joined the revellers in Trafalgar Square. Pushed close together by the press of people they sought each others hands and listened as Big Ben stroked the sounds of the New Year across the city and country.
They cheered and hugged ‘Beginning of forever for us’ whispered Viggo ‘Aye, us forever’ replied Sean ‘Good bye to 1938 and a hearty welcome to 1939.’
Chapter 10 Part 2
Summary – Good bye England
Hello New York January 1939
Not true – just spinning a love story
Music? “I’ll see you again” sung by Nelson Eddy I believe he recorded this song 1940
Southampton docks early morning January 5th 1939
Reversing the joyous journey of December they drove down to Southampton. The sky was bleak and the land still deathly cold. A fine mist hugged the hedges and the shivering fields awaited the touch of spring warmth. Their conversation was stilted, too much to be said in mere words. In a world dissolving into war they would be too far apart to plan another visit.
‘We’ve half an hour to spare let’s stop and get some tea or coffee, warm us up a bit’ said Sean as he pulled into the lorry crowded car park of a brightly lit cafe. Warmth, steam and the savoury smell of bacon wafted enticingly around them. Viggo smiled as he saw the ubiquitous bottle of Camp coffee on the counter. He thought how he would miss foolish things like that.
They found a table in the corner and sat sipping their coffee in silence
Suddenly Sean leant forward ‘Viggo when you go home, your parents are going to want you to settle down, get married. Please find a lovely dark eyed, tango dancing woman, fall madly in love with her, marry her and have loads of wonderful children and I can be their crazy English uncle who visits occasionally.’
Furious Viggo hissed back ‘Are you out of your mind? It is you I love, how dare you suggest such things. Is that what you think of us, of me? That I can simply fall in love just like that? He snapped his fingers ‘To please my parents? ‘What about us?’
Sean smiled sadly ‘Viggo we will be continents and oceans apart. I will be joining up and soon we are going to be at war, you know it is true. Hitler will push and push and instead of our shameful betrayal as happened last year to the Czech people, we will have to honour our treaties and obligations. We will have to stand and fight. It is not your fight, go home to peace and plenty, we will write, we will always be in each other’s thoughts. It may be a long while until we can see each other again but we have enough love and memories between us to see us through, come what may.’
Viggo stayed silent he knew this was going to be a long and perish the thought, maybe a final farewell but never would his heart accept it. He would hold to the hope of meeting again, free to be together, to live each day edged with the gold of their love. On the quay, time was now counted in minutes and seconds. Manly hug and pats on the back as they held each other tightly, letting their hearts beat in unison one more time.
‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’* whispered that deep magic voice as Sean pressed a tiny hidden kiss to Viggo’s neck.
‘Cuidese, te amo para siempre’* Viggo’s lips ghosted across Sean’s soft, trembling mouth as they parted.
Viggo watched from the deck leaning over as the tugs urged the liner gently out into deep water, a rare softening in the mist allowed a little glimpse of the sun to filter through. He waved to the slender lone figure, and could just see a long wave back, then for a second, the fragile light caught Sean and Viggo saw the faint trace of gold around his lover’s fair hair. Soon all was lost in the mist and had become the past.
Ten days later in New York; Viggo was leaving to fly to Buenos Aires,
later in the afternoon. However, first he was going to have lunch with David and catch up on his news. They talked about England, they laughed over Viggo’s jokes about the strange names for food and especially Camp coffee. He even confessed to David that he had bought and hidden a bottle in his luggage.
‘A souvenir’ he started to joke but then swallowed his pain and fell silent for a moment before he continued ‘If war comes how can we even stay in touch by letter?’ he shook his head, despair threatening to overwhelm him.
David spoke softly ‘Viggo, send any letters or packages to me at my New York address, I have ways of making sure they will reach England even if things become ... difficult shall we say? I will get in contact with Sean as well and give him a name and telephone number. If the worst happens he will still be able to get letters through to you via my contacts’. It was little enough but Viggo was comforted by David’s kindness and understanding.
He had written a long letter on board ship, to the casual glance a simple account to a friend of sea voyage, yet hidden in such phrases as ‘wish you could have been beside me and seen the beautiful sunset, felt the warm breeze...’ was a wealth of love and yearning. Childishly, he had pressed his lips to the casual good bye ‘Hope to see you soon down our way, all the best ...’ he hoped Sean would understand and garner the hidden kisses.
tbc
*‘Vaya con Dios mi amor’ Go with God my love
* Cuidese, te amo para siempre’ Take care, I will love you forever.
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
Chapter 11 Part 3
Summary – the game’s afoot …
Song ? How about Stormy Weather sung by ~ the delectable Etta James
Not true – just spinning a love story
Argentina/New York
June 1939
In June an increasingly unhappy Viggo and his parents finally had a long and almost frank conversation. Gently, Viggo lied and explained that he had not yet met a girl as wonderful as his mother, a girl with whom he could happily settle down and dedicate his life to.
‘If our local girls do not stir your senses, maybe you should look for a nice gringa. Why didn’t you find one when you were in New York or even when spending time in England with your friend?’ asked his father.
‘I want to please you both but to live a lie with a girl I do not love; I cannot do this’ Viggo hedged.
‘Exactly, you are tired of what is on offer here and maybe a few weeks of holidays here and there are not enough time for you to meet the right girl, to be sure she is from a good family and has a good reputation.’ Don Jaime paused and Viggo rubbed his chin covering his smile at the phrase ‘good reputation’.
His father continued ‘As you pointed out to me recently we need to be aware of this looming war, even though it is continents away. Yes, there are plenty of opportunities for us to prosper from this war. Troops need protein, meat that is safely sealed, has a long life and easily carried so, yes we could do very well indeed from our corned beef interests.’
He paused then continued
‘I also agree with you that one day the United States will be forced to enter the war and when this happens it will be on the side of a free Europe. A nasty little dictator ruling all of Europe and friendly with Japan would be too much of a threat to America. Your mother and I have decided that this year Spain is hopeless, Italy is now also in the hands of crazy dictator and therefore it is too dangerous to visit Europe, so we will holiday in Chile. You however will go back to New York. We need to dismiss our agent, distance ourselves from Argentine politics that favour Germany and open our own office in New York. Let us see how things will go for a year. You, dear Viggo, will of course set up and run this office at least for the first year. I have every faith in you and I am sure that nice young man David can help you find a suitable office and give you any advice you need.
First thing ‘he continued’ is to find that rare thing, an honest lawyer, to make sure everything is water tight and legal, then a good accountant to make sure we pay the least possible in taxes. Third and most important thing is to find you a wife, a good girl from a good family. Dona Elena wants some grandchildren to spoil.’
Viggo hugged and thanked his parents for their faith and trust in him.
Yet later that night unable to sleep he wept bitterly, his longing for Sean was like a deep wound that would not heal. In despair he also wondered how he could ever keep his promise to his parents to find and fall in love with a ‘good’ girl and give them the grand children such loving people deserved.
New York July 1939
Viggo soon felt at home back in busy, steamy New York. Letters from Sean and his to Sean arrived quicker, he felt closer and less isolated. They wrote always of casual things, Sean was in the RAF and he amused Viggo with tales of training pilots and the wonderful times he was having training the Czechs and Poles on Hurricanes and Spitfires…
‘Mad buggers, brave as lions, they never listen to a word I say, love them to pieces and I am very glad they will be on our side! Camp coffee is still delicious! No I do not wish you were here; I love to think of you safe in America, maybe occasionally driving down to Long Island. Bumped into Harry the other day, he sends his best to that ‘daft Argentine sod.’
Viggo replied ‘If you see Harry again tell him greetings from me to the noisy bugger! Love living in New York and how could I forget that special time we spent on Long Island? A few days ago I went back to Horseshoe Crab beach and sat for a while remembering; then paddled in the water and saw again those strange looking crabs. They still survive, never changing, just like us.
Yes, they have cleaned up after the hurricane and everything is nearly as you remember it. I see our mutual friend David now and again for dinner or lunch; he is still the ‘mysterious’ smoothie. He sends his regards and says there are waffles, stuffed with fresh raspberries and smothered in rich cream with your name on waiting for you at Shipwrecks’ Viggo’s nights were however sad, lonely and filled with nightmares.
3rd September 1939
I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street. This morning, the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note, stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany…
Viggo and David listened to a recording of the broadcast on the radio, they read the words over and over again in the newspapers. One journalist had noted it had been a perfect September morning, full of warm autumn sunshine.
P.S you can listen to this solemn radio declaration on Youtube causes chills down the back of my spine.
Summary – the game’s afoot …
Song ? How about Stormy Weather sung by ~ the delectable Etta James
Not true – just spinning a love story
Argentina/New York
June 1939
In June an increasingly unhappy Viggo and his parents finally had a long and almost frank conversation. Gently, Viggo lied and explained that he had not yet met a girl as wonderful as his mother, a girl with whom he could happily settle down and dedicate his life to.
‘If our local girls do not stir your senses, maybe you should look for a nice gringa. Why didn’t you find one when you were in New York or even when spending time in England with your friend?’ asked his father.
‘I want to please you both but to live a lie with a girl I do not love; I cannot do this’ Viggo hedged.
‘Exactly, you are tired of what is on offer here and maybe a few weeks of holidays here and there are not enough time for you to meet the right girl, to be sure she is from a good family and has a good reputation.’ Don Jaime paused and Viggo rubbed his chin covering his smile at the phrase ‘good reputation’.
His father continued ‘As you pointed out to me recently we need to be aware of this looming war, even though it is continents away. Yes, there are plenty of opportunities for us to prosper from this war. Troops need protein, meat that is safely sealed, has a long life and easily carried so, yes we could do very well indeed from our corned beef interests.’
He paused then continued
‘I also agree with you that one day the United States will be forced to enter the war and when this happens it will be on the side of a free Europe. A nasty little dictator ruling all of Europe and friendly with Japan would be too much of a threat to America. Your mother and I have decided that this year Spain is hopeless, Italy is now also in the hands of crazy dictator and therefore it is too dangerous to visit Europe, so we will holiday in Chile. You however will go back to New York. We need to dismiss our agent, distance ourselves from Argentine politics that favour Germany and open our own office in New York. Let us see how things will go for a year. You, dear Viggo, will of course set up and run this office at least for the first year. I have every faith in you and I am sure that nice young man David can help you find a suitable office and give you any advice you need.
First thing ‘he continued’ is to find that rare thing, an honest lawyer, to make sure everything is water tight and legal, then a good accountant to make sure we pay the least possible in taxes. Third and most important thing is to find you a wife, a good girl from a good family. Dona Elena wants some grandchildren to spoil.’
Viggo hugged and thanked his parents for their faith and trust in him.
Yet later that night unable to sleep he wept bitterly, his longing for Sean was like a deep wound that would not heal. In despair he also wondered how he could ever keep his promise to his parents to find and fall in love with a ‘good’ girl and give them the grand children such loving people deserved.
New York July 1939
Viggo soon felt at home back in busy, steamy New York. Letters from Sean and his to Sean arrived quicker, he felt closer and less isolated. They wrote always of casual things, Sean was in the RAF and he amused Viggo with tales of training pilots and the wonderful times he was having training the Czechs and Poles on Hurricanes and Spitfires…
‘Mad buggers, brave as lions, they never listen to a word I say, love them to pieces and I am very glad they will be on our side! Camp coffee is still delicious! No I do not wish you were here; I love to think of you safe in America, maybe occasionally driving down to Long Island. Bumped into Harry the other day, he sends his best to that ‘daft Argentine sod.’
Viggo replied ‘If you see Harry again tell him greetings from me to the noisy bugger! Love living in New York and how could I forget that special time we spent on Long Island? A few days ago I went back to Horseshoe Crab beach and sat for a while remembering; then paddled in the water and saw again those strange looking crabs. They still survive, never changing, just like us.
Yes, they have cleaned up after the hurricane and everything is nearly as you remember it. I see our mutual friend David now and again for dinner or lunch; he is still the ‘mysterious’ smoothie. He sends his regards and says there are waffles, stuffed with fresh raspberries and smothered in rich cream with your name on waiting for you at Shipwrecks’ Viggo’s nights were however sad, lonely and filled with nightmares.
3rd September 1939
I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street. This morning, the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note, stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany…
Viggo and David listened to a recording of the broadcast on the radio, they read the words over and over again in the newspapers. One journalist had noted it had been a perfect September morning, full of warm autumn sunshine.
P.S you can listen to this solemn radio declaration on Youtube causes chills down the back of my spine.
-
loucifer67
- Site Admin
- Posts: 2030
- Joined: Mon Jul 11, 2011 4:02 pm
-
sharpshooter1
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2517
- Joined: Thu Jan 10, 2008 7:20 pm
- Location: Sandhurst, Berks, UK
Posting early to stay in correct sequence - sorry real klutz when it comes to posting.
*****************
Chapter 12 Part 3
Summary – they also serve ...
Song - maybe ‘Smile’ by Nat King Cole?
Not true – just spinning a love story
New York May 25th 1940
Viggo was puzzled and dismayed to read the news, it seemed the whole British Army was trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk in France. Yet selfishly all his thoughts were of where and what Sean was doing. He hurried over to David’s office; this time rather than smiling and waving him through, David’s pale, serious, English secretary asked him to wait.
Viggo sat impatiently; he could faintly hear David’s voice, it seemed he was on the phone. The second hand jerked steadily round and round on the wall clock, he watched the secretary. Her face was stern and still, yet as she bent over her typewriter he saw her mouth twist in what looked like pain. He began to understand this news was about more than his love, his Sean. The war to him was all about it taking Sean away, putting Sean in danger. He realised this war was spreading like a cancer, Europe gripped by the throat, all those people no longer free, Britain on her knees.
For the first time he understood how selfish love could be. For him everyone else’s sacrifice and suffering had been acceptable, everyone, except for Sean. He thought about Sean’s family, had his brother Mark joined up? How were they all coping, what about his parents, the children, Meg? Had her Alan joined up? Then he thought of Maisie and Harold and he felt a weight of sadness, how were they doing for money, for food? What of David’s family? He had never even asked him. He stood up and went over to the desk
‘Excuse me; I can see Mr Wenham is very busy and tied up today could you ask him to join me, if he can, for dinner at my place this evening. He’s got my number.
‘Certainly Mr Mortenson’ She replied, smiling faintly and as he turned to go he saw her surreptitiously dab her eyes.
He spent the rest of the day on the phone; he was humbled to discover that while he made money and worried over Sean, other people had started doing positive, helpful things. He smiled at the wonderful name ‘Bundles for Britain’ then ransacked his closet and took items down to the collection point which was in an empty Park Avenue store. He had even included his spare blankets, he remembered how cold and damp England could be. Then he smiled remembering ‘No, not cold, ‘chilly’ that is the word they used. ‘Chilly and damp.’
David arrived later that evening; he looked drained and pulled a letter from Sean out of his pocket. Viggo took it and carefully put it behind the clock to read later, smoothing his fingers over the address and smothering a sigh. Viggo then spent a good ten minutes bombarding David with crazy, hastily made decisions to go to England and join up, learn to fly, learn to fight, and generally save the world and Sean single handed.
After two slices of pizza and two large glasses of an excellent red Argentine wine, Viggo stopped and looked over at David who still looked drawn and tired but managed to smile back.
‘I’m sorry David, I just feel so useless sitting here there must be something I can contribute to the war effort.’ He paused remembering the men dying and trapped on the beaches in France, looking down he continued ‘I am sorry, I thought only of myself’
David sat up straight. ‘I really can’t tell you too much, but we are not finished yet and we are going to get our chaps home whatever it takes. Viggo, you are good at business, at logistics at moving large quantities of corned beef cheaply and effectively to where they are needed. Do you know what Britain and trust me, at some point, America, are going to need? Logistic experts, that’s what. Men, goods, food, arms, guns, ammunition, tanks etc they all have to be moved around and end up in the right hands and in the right place. Not an easy job is it Viggo?’ be patient, I have to be away in Washington for a few weeks. Please wait for me to come back, I think you can be of more help to the war effort from this side of the Atlantic. Well it’s getting late I’ll be off now, early start tomorrow’ he smiled and glanced at the envelope behind the clock.
‘Just a moment please, can you make sure these letters get ‘sent’ safely’ Viggo asked as he opened his desk drawer grabbing a pile of sealed envelopes and cramming them into David’s hand. He looked down, then back to his friend’s face. ‘I forgot other people for a while, especially make sure this one gets through, I changed some dollars and put a five pound note in with their letter, they might need it. Should be alright in the mail shouldn’t it? David smiled ‘Ah, a little something for Maisie and Harold, good I’ll make sure it is delivered to them personally.’
Viggo continued ‘The other letters are for Sean’s family and of course for Sean.’ He hesitated then asked ‘David how are your family doing?’
David smiled ‘So far so good,’ He gripped Viggo’s arm ‘Take care’ ‘You too, you too’ replied Viggo .
***************************
Chapter 14 Part 3
New York September 1940
Summary ‘... never was so much ...’
Not true – just spinning a love story
Viggo had taken on a part time, unofficial role as David’s logistics ‘wing man.’ He liked using his hard earned knowledge and contacts and he got more involved with not only the British but the American diplomats and the military who were working, hoping and praying to end the war in Europe. All the time looming on America’s other horizon was Germany’s ally in the east, Japan. He sometimes lay awake at night and found it hard to recall what peace had felt like, but always he ended with that breakfast at Shipwrecks. Waffles, raspberries, cream and coffee, an arm carelessly draped on the back of his chair, touching his shoulder, golden hairs perfect in the sun.
Very few letters came now, the last one a tired scrawl from Sean ‘...sometimes we even sleep standing up, Camp Coffee keeps us going, ha ha do you remember? This is one battle we have to win. I promise you one day we will meet again – just like the song says. I always keep your gold medallion in my pocket, hugs Sean.’
Viggo pressed his lips to the letter and held it against his heart. ‘Please, please, please keep him safe’ he whispered to his kind, imaginary God who would never ever let even a sparrow fall. Viggo had heard that Maisie and Harold died together during a wicked air raid in late August. Viggo had sat and wept, remembering their love for each other, the porridge, the kippers, and the generous, thick slices of rich Christmas cake.
Early one morning he heard the door bell ring, waking, he glanced at his clock, puzzled, it was very early. He opened the door and a pale and tired David was standing there.
‘Viggo, old friend ...’ he began ...
Two weeks later David handed him a letter. ‘This just came through in the diplomatic pouch, I think it is from Meg’ Viggo looked up from his desk, slowly he reached out. ‘If I take it, it will make it true won’t it. He might have bailed out.’ Viggo insisted
‘Viggo, you know I have checked so many times. There is no record of a parachute leaving the plane, I have even spoken to other pilots in his group.
‘Viggo it is true, he’s gone you have to face it, please don’t close everyone out, please don’t deny him or your feelings. You have to grieve for him – he deserves that at least.’
Viggo took the letter with a shaking hand. David patted his shoulder and left. Viggo did not open it till much later that night. Inside he found a single folded sheet of paper and a sealed envelope. Meg had written
Dearest Viggo
‘Sean left this letter with me to send to you if anything happened. It is very hard to now have to send it. I never believed I would have to do so. I wanted us to laugh at such sentimental foolishness, for him to tear it up when this wretched war is won. Dear friend do not forget us, one day when all this is over come and see us again. We are as well as can be expected. It is very hard, so many dear ones no longer here. He was my beloved young, golden, brother, happy, full of fun and mischief. We will always miss him and to you, dearest Viggo, I send you love straight from my heart. You gave him what he always hoped he would find, a partner loving and true. He knew he was loved and valued and it filled his heart and soul with joy and contentment. Promise me you will live and live well for him. God bless, Meg xxx”
He sat remembering that perfect Christmas Eve the snow, the carols. Sean sneaking into his bed late at night, claiming he had cold feet and Father Christmas had refused to warm them and sent to him Viggo’s room to get warm. Setting the alarm so he could get back to his own bed before everyone woke up. Viggo bowed his head and let his tears finally come. How could he deny his love and refuse to read Sean’s letter, refuse to honour his bravery and accept his death, he opened it and read.
Vigs, my beloved, my lover and my dearest friend,
If you are reading this letter then you will know I am gone. Don’t worry dear one I promise you that I will be waiting for you somewhere, somehow, someday.
Don’t spend your life mourning for me. We have had so much, we have danced under the stars, made love on the beach and lit by firelight on the pampas we have lain, sated in each other’s arms. I cherish these memories of our love. I do believe one day we will be together again, this time forever. Remember me and be happy, life is precious - promise me you will live well and love again.
Always
Sean xxx
Viggo garnered the kisses with trembling lips and remembered that perfect sunny morning, the golden hairs on his lover’s arms, his Sean now gone forever. He wept the night through until a sliver of morning sun slipped between the curtains. He felt it’s warmth on his face as if it was a ghost of a kiss.
*****
‘Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few – Churchill.’ Re: Battle of Britain.
No song for this posting but an incredibly moving poem – available to read on the internet.
‘High flight’ by Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee, No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
TBC please stay with the story...
*****************
Chapter 12 Part 3
Summary – they also serve ...
Song - maybe ‘Smile’ by Nat King Cole?
Not true – just spinning a love story
New York May 25th 1940
Viggo was puzzled and dismayed to read the news, it seemed the whole British Army was trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk in France. Yet selfishly all his thoughts were of where and what Sean was doing. He hurried over to David’s office; this time rather than smiling and waving him through, David’s pale, serious, English secretary asked him to wait.
Viggo sat impatiently; he could faintly hear David’s voice, it seemed he was on the phone. The second hand jerked steadily round and round on the wall clock, he watched the secretary. Her face was stern and still, yet as she bent over her typewriter he saw her mouth twist in what looked like pain. He began to understand this news was about more than his love, his Sean. The war to him was all about it taking Sean away, putting Sean in danger. He realised this war was spreading like a cancer, Europe gripped by the throat, all those people no longer free, Britain on her knees.
For the first time he understood how selfish love could be. For him everyone else’s sacrifice and suffering had been acceptable, everyone, except for Sean. He thought about Sean’s family, had his brother Mark joined up? How were they all coping, what about his parents, the children, Meg? Had her Alan joined up? Then he thought of Maisie and Harold and he felt a weight of sadness, how were they doing for money, for food? What of David’s family? He had never even asked him. He stood up and went over to the desk
‘Excuse me; I can see Mr Wenham is very busy and tied up today could you ask him to join me, if he can, for dinner at my place this evening. He’s got my number.
‘Certainly Mr Mortenson’ She replied, smiling faintly and as he turned to go he saw her surreptitiously dab her eyes.
He spent the rest of the day on the phone; he was humbled to discover that while he made money and worried over Sean, other people had started doing positive, helpful things. He smiled at the wonderful name ‘Bundles for Britain’ then ransacked his closet and took items down to the collection point which was in an empty Park Avenue store. He had even included his spare blankets, he remembered how cold and damp England could be. Then he smiled remembering ‘No, not cold, ‘chilly’ that is the word they used. ‘Chilly and damp.’
David arrived later that evening; he looked drained and pulled a letter from Sean out of his pocket. Viggo took it and carefully put it behind the clock to read later, smoothing his fingers over the address and smothering a sigh. Viggo then spent a good ten minutes bombarding David with crazy, hastily made decisions to go to England and join up, learn to fly, learn to fight, and generally save the world and Sean single handed.
After two slices of pizza and two large glasses of an excellent red Argentine wine, Viggo stopped and looked over at David who still looked drawn and tired but managed to smile back.
‘I’m sorry David, I just feel so useless sitting here there must be something I can contribute to the war effort.’ He paused remembering the men dying and trapped on the beaches in France, looking down he continued ‘I am sorry, I thought only of myself’
David sat up straight. ‘I really can’t tell you too much, but we are not finished yet and we are going to get our chaps home whatever it takes. Viggo, you are good at business, at logistics at moving large quantities of corned beef cheaply and effectively to where they are needed. Do you know what Britain and trust me, at some point, America, are going to need? Logistic experts, that’s what. Men, goods, food, arms, guns, ammunition, tanks etc they all have to be moved around and end up in the right hands and in the right place. Not an easy job is it Viggo?’ be patient, I have to be away in Washington for a few weeks. Please wait for me to come back, I think you can be of more help to the war effort from this side of the Atlantic. Well it’s getting late I’ll be off now, early start tomorrow’ he smiled and glanced at the envelope behind the clock.
‘Just a moment please, can you make sure these letters get ‘sent’ safely’ Viggo asked as he opened his desk drawer grabbing a pile of sealed envelopes and cramming them into David’s hand. He looked down, then back to his friend’s face. ‘I forgot other people for a while, especially make sure this one gets through, I changed some dollars and put a five pound note in with their letter, they might need it. Should be alright in the mail shouldn’t it? David smiled ‘Ah, a little something for Maisie and Harold, good I’ll make sure it is delivered to them personally.’
Viggo continued ‘The other letters are for Sean’s family and of course for Sean.’ He hesitated then asked ‘David how are your family doing?’
David smiled ‘So far so good,’ He gripped Viggo’s arm ‘Take care’ ‘You too, you too’ replied Viggo .
***************************
Chapter 14 Part 3
New York September 1940
Summary ‘... never was so much ...’
Not true – just spinning a love story
Viggo had taken on a part time, unofficial role as David’s logistics ‘wing man.’ He liked using his hard earned knowledge and contacts and he got more involved with not only the British but the American diplomats and the military who were working, hoping and praying to end the war in Europe. All the time looming on America’s other horizon was Germany’s ally in the east, Japan. He sometimes lay awake at night and found it hard to recall what peace had felt like, but always he ended with that breakfast at Shipwrecks. Waffles, raspberries, cream and coffee, an arm carelessly draped on the back of his chair, touching his shoulder, golden hairs perfect in the sun.
Very few letters came now, the last one a tired scrawl from Sean ‘...sometimes we even sleep standing up, Camp Coffee keeps us going, ha ha do you remember? This is one battle we have to win. I promise you one day we will meet again – just like the song says. I always keep your gold medallion in my pocket, hugs Sean.’
Viggo pressed his lips to the letter and held it against his heart. ‘Please, please, please keep him safe’ he whispered to his kind, imaginary God who would never ever let even a sparrow fall. Viggo had heard that Maisie and Harold died together during a wicked air raid in late August. Viggo had sat and wept, remembering their love for each other, the porridge, the kippers, and the generous, thick slices of rich Christmas cake.
Early one morning he heard the door bell ring, waking, he glanced at his clock, puzzled, it was very early. He opened the door and a pale and tired David was standing there.
‘Viggo, old friend ...’ he began ...
Two weeks later David handed him a letter. ‘This just came through in the diplomatic pouch, I think it is from Meg’ Viggo looked up from his desk, slowly he reached out. ‘If I take it, it will make it true won’t it. He might have bailed out.’ Viggo insisted
‘Viggo, you know I have checked so many times. There is no record of a parachute leaving the plane, I have even spoken to other pilots in his group.
‘Viggo it is true, he’s gone you have to face it, please don’t close everyone out, please don’t deny him or your feelings. You have to grieve for him – he deserves that at least.’
Viggo took the letter with a shaking hand. David patted his shoulder and left. Viggo did not open it till much later that night. Inside he found a single folded sheet of paper and a sealed envelope. Meg had written
Dearest Viggo
‘Sean left this letter with me to send to you if anything happened. It is very hard to now have to send it. I never believed I would have to do so. I wanted us to laugh at such sentimental foolishness, for him to tear it up when this wretched war is won. Dear friend do not forget us, one day when all this is over come and see us again. We are as well as can be expected. It is very hard, so many dear ones no longer here. He was my beloved young, golden, brother, happy, full of fun and mischief. We will always miss him and to you, dearest Viggo, I send you love straight from my heart. You gave him what he always hoped he would find, a partner loving and true. He knew he was loved and valued and it filled his heart and soul with joy and contentment. Promise me you will live and live well for him. God bless, Meg xxx”
He sat remembering that perfect Christmas Eve the snow, the carols. Sean sneaking into his bed late at night, claiming he had cold feet and Father Christmas had refused to warm them and sent to him Viggo’s room to get warm. Setting the alarm so he could get back to his own bed before everyone woke up. Viggo bowed his head and let his tears finally come. How could he deny his love and refuse to read Sean’s letter, refuse to honour his bravery and accept his death, he opened it and read.
Vigs, my beloved, my lover and my dearest friend,
If you are reading this letter then you will know I am gone. Don’t worry dear one I promise you that I will be waiting for you somewhere, somehow, someday.
Don’t spend your life mourning for me. We have had so much, we have danced under the stars, made love on the beach and lit by firelight on the pampas we have lain, sated in each other’s arms. I cherish these memories of our love. I do believe one day we will be together again, this time forever. Remember me and be happy, life is precious - promise me you will live well and love again.
Always
Sean xxx
Viggo garnered the kisses with trembling lips and remembered that perfect sunny morning, the golden hairs on his lover’s arms, his Sean now gone forever. He wept the night through until a sliver of morning sun slipped between the curtains. He felt it’s warmth on his face as if it was a ghost of a kiss.
*****
‘Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few – Churchill.’ Re: Battle of Britain.
No song for this posting but an incredibly moving poem – available to read on the internet.
‘High flight’ by Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee, No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
TBC please stay with the story...
-
loucifer67
- Site Admin
- Posts: 2030
- Joined: Mon Jul 11, 2011 4:02 pm
-
Way2prickly
- Bean VIP
- Posts: 2185
- Joined: Thu Jan 22, 2009 6:27 pm