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by sharpshooter1 » Mon Apr 01, 2013 9:34 am
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.